Production?

This is the first real year the terrace garden has been going. Last year was a wash with the rainy June we had combined with the just-completed nature of the project. Presently, hard edges on stone are beginning to soften, at least to my eye, and the plants are happy with having a full season of growth and the luxury of nutrient rich soils and thermal gain. As the nights get cooler and the spiciness of Autumnal winds begin to infuse the little valley where we live, I begin to reflect over the year and about definitions of productivity.

By all accounts, the garden was productive as you can see from the photos of the tomatoes below. Thus far we've had 25-30 pounds of glorious love apples. Peppers have been abundant too as have been the carrots, beets, collards and medicinal herbs.

I'd argue too that the garden has been productive in it's calling me to be "unproductive" and rest. Sitting amidst the swaying fronds of the asparagus ferns, counting butterflies on the Mexican Hyssop and combing the sea of bobbing nasturtium leaves for the zingy orange flowers to zest up salads or the mid afternoon doldrums, I become more productive and creative. Perhaps being in a garden reminds me of why I am doing what I do, getting me back to the most elemental joy of seeing complex sensory and spatial dynamics in easy harmony. 

Art/landscape/food

After the show at Provisions - I have more motivation to paint and make things. Ultimately it's about ensuring that all parts of my creative process are engaged. Reflecting on the great feedback I received during the show's duration ( thanks to all who went!), I had an epiphany that my art work is a critical part of my "landscape" process. That might sound blatantly obvious to some, but seeing it up on the wall made me realize that my painting is realistically and metaphorically part of the landscape work I do. All my work is about nourishment on some level - for the eyes, for the stomach, for the soul. Where before a few weeks ago, I might have told you that art, landscape and food were all in neat, separate boxes, I now believe that they're all different manifestations of the same urge I have to nourish, heal and provide a way to see connections that might not have been readily apparent but exist on their own terms in astonishingly beautiful ways. Perhaps I am realizing my own ecology of creativity. 

Here are some of the projects I've started recently. One I am most thrilled about is in the barn. The ball is made of woven concord grape vine. The vine is from the cuttings of last year. Over time, I plan to add more vine from each year's cuttings - making additive sculpture that reinforces the timeliness of material -  local, seasonal art.

Keeping it local

After doing more research into the eco-region of Bend, I decided that sourcing all the plants locally was the best way to ensure a successful planting. Initially I had structured the concept of the installation around the specific healing characteristics of the plants in each space and so was reluctant to vary my approach. The more I thought about it and the more I searched for specific medicinal plants like codonopsis ( a qi builder) and elecampane ( a strong digestive and upper respiratory aid) I realized that the initial idea, while good, would have required more inputs (my energy to locate plants, special attention from maintenance crews and gas to pick up plants 5 + hours away in a different growing zone) than plants sourced from local nurseries. In the process of reorganizing, I talked with some great people at Land Systems Nursery and Winter Creek Restoration  - both of which are in Bend. Rick Martinson at Winter Creek helped me select native plants with similar ethnobotanical/healing properties to the plants I was replacing. Even better than the plants I had selected initially, these plants were used for healing and nourishment in Bend by native peoples before European settlement.

Contained in this experience is a great metaphor. Embracing the reality of what is there as opposed to trying to make a situation work because it's on paper and it fit what was in my head made this process less fraught and more rewarding. I am thrilled about the way the addition of these new plants deepens the connection/meaning of the installation to the place. I am also grateful for the chance to have let go of an idea and been rewarded with meeting great people, and learning on many different levels. 

One of the plants I learned about from Rick is Stanleya Pinnata - or Prince's Plume. It's in the brassica (mustard) family. Typically, it is boiled and eaten like cabbage in the spring and is very bitter - making it a good liver tonic, much like dandelion or chicory that we have here in the Northeast. The form is striking, tall spikes of yellow flowers that tower over much of the scrubby desert vegetation in the region. I am looking forward to seeing some of these in situ and getting started on the installation. It's coming up quickly! 

Stanleya - Prince's plume

revised planting

Internal Biochar

There are certain points where I realize that if an objective person were to read my journals from years past they would find cyclical patterns. Euphoria, fascination, sadness, etc. My internal ecology I think has a certain forest pattern that includes the seasons as well as periods of accumulation and then fire where all those accumulated ideas, thoughts and feelings get upcycled into biochar. I think about how certain seeds need fire to germinate - that heat burns off the protective coating and activates the growth process. The seed is then nourished by the rich ash from all that accumulated material.

Always in that regrowth period, there's a certain lyrical nature to the world around me, where I am more aware of the layered realities surrounding me. I am grateful for these periods of re-awakening, to see the world with new eyes again.

Central Maine Botanical Gardens

A few weeks ago, my family and I were nearby the Central Maine Botanical Gardens and spent the afternoon exploring its different gardens. I remember visiting the site before anything was there - about 7 years ago, and was astounded by the creativity and work that went into creating such beautiful spaces - from piney Maine woods - which are beautiful in and of themselves.

I was heartened to see the area devoted to gardening for those with mobility challenges. The only other example I had seen of this was at the Chicago botanic garden. The garden beds were around 2.5' - 3' tall and there were spaces inset into the walls for people with wheel chairs so they could reach the beds. I appreciated the attention paid to the walking surface and that there was shade there at mid-day as well. The vistas of the neighboring garden were nice as well - with generous areas to stop and take it all in. From the photos, you can see that I was really interested in the modular planting cages inset into the vertical garden frameworks. It inspiring to think that in tiny spaces and anywhere, there are straight forward options to grow in any plane or space. I think that the way these were constructed was particularly successful - because of the simplicity and elegance of design. I am looking forward to trying some experiments in this vein out myself, and down the road perhaps adding a green roof to our house like the one in the second photo down.

acupressure labyrinth

universally accessible garden with raised beds

modular growing cage

modular growing cage

Vertical garden wall

Vertical garden wall

Shifting Rhythms

An amazing year we're having. Lots of intense sun and aside from the lack of rain over this past month, a great growing year. It's hard to believe that it has only been a year since the garden went in. Already, it seems like the terraces have been there for years - especially considering the robust growth of the plants....Mediterranean in origin plants like the Clary Sage and Hyssop are thriving, and I am amazed at their structure and beauty. Having been a vegetable gardener - with some understanding of culinary herbs, it is wonderful to harvest garden bounty during what was once early in the season. As with the post earlier about the red clover, I knew that there was beauty in the flowers of certain plants, but to have healing in them too is marvelous. I have enjoyed shifting my rhythm in the garden to harvesting and processing earlier and with different methods. Yesterday I made a garden sage, thyme flower and tulsi essential oil - infused honey. Today I caught the tail end of the elder flower season, and made a batch of Elder Flower Fizz starter ( see Darina Allen's the Forgotten Skills of Cooking). We'll see how all these initial attempts come out. In the process though, there's poetry. Taking something that had meaning and beauty to me already and then integrating it into my life in nourishing, new and unexpected ways has pushed my experience of landscape and ecology into a new direction that's more profound and rewarding to me.

Vegetable Portraits II

    

Last Sunday, I hung my show at Provisions, a fantastic wine and cheese shop, in Northampton. It will be up for the rest of July. There are some new paintings there as well as some from the initial Vegetable Portrait series. The space there is beautiful, and I think my paintings are quite harmonious with the vibe of the shop. Stop by on Arts Night Out in Northampton, July 13th, from 5-7pm.