Artwalks consists of a simple idea: meet up with someone, go for an adventure in nature, make some art with what you find…
Summer doesn’t happen overnight. It takes time, and moves slowly, and pokes its wee head out from under the ground as it gets warmer and lighter and there’s great joy and comfort that comes from noticing that. By marking time, aligning ourselves with nature’s calendar, and paying close attention to how things are changing we are reminded that the world still turns. And that we are part of that world, and this too shall pass.
Making art that doesn’t stay reminds us that nothing is permanent. Taking time over this art gives us time to pause, and notice, and connect. Leaving something beautiful in nature makes other people smile. We are all part of something bigger than ourselves.
Participants were matched with a fellow member in their local area, encouraged to make natural art and document what they’ve created.
This week’s jumping-off point was CHANGE and MOVEMENT. It was a week of spirals, and of the sea gently surrounding pieces till they disappeared. It was a week of fleeting movement captured in one frame. It was a week where we found the remains of old fires, and built out from them. It was a week where pairs found the work of other pairs, and discovered that they’d been added to in the interim.
It was a week where one pair captured “the evolution of scenery we observed as we were walking”…. “where we witnessed nature’s magic arts. The land itself underwent change – an island floated in the sky. The ground was ripped up & the movement showed changes through the ages. Near a stream where light water changed to dark we saw faces of those who had been captured and transformed into trees.”
This week we took full advantage of the little extra freedom we’ve been granted – bringing people together in slightly larger groups; something I didn’t think we’d be able to do, but for which I’m so very very grateful. Our theme, in honor of this, was CONNECTION.
We had sea, and sticks, and sunlight. We had boats of few flowered leek, and DNA spirals curling their way between trees. We had a trail of yonic art through a woodland, we stuck our feet in a cold cold river on the way back home and picked red flowering currant blossoms. We left a watchful eye in a tree, we made trails of shells on the beach. We are taking tiny steps toward learning to be together again, after a long, cold, and lonely winter.