Change

Growing up in rural western Pennsylvania, and then living in suburban Philadelphia for 10 years, I miss the changing of the leave during fall in Florida. In fact, I think Florida doesn't have much seasonal change at all. But, since I've been going to the arboretum regularly, about every 2 weeks, I've discovered that I am wrong! With these frequent visits with nature, I am brought into awareness of change: new blooms, dropping blossoms and leaves, ripening fruit. 

I took my advanced modern class to the arboretum on 10/28, to explore ecosomatic connections. While we were there, I documented all the things that had changed since I was there the last time, 3 weeks before, because of fall break. 

Being aware of our more than human kin can highlight change and progress. Even when we feel stuck, or like nothing is happening, nature reminds us that, as Irmgard Bartenieff liked to say "the only constant is change". 

The Chenille Plant was flowering. I call this one "Muppet Fingers". It's incredibly soft. 

Dicots fruiting. 

Pinball blossoms. 

The Seek app couldn't identify this one, but it definitely wasn't in bloom when I was there before. 

Update!

 A rainy weekend means that not much work has happened in movement. It does give me pause to think about creating an outdoor performance! Will it rain? Will rain keep people away? Will the dancers be comfortable? What happens to work on the ground if it rains? Many things to consider!

We hope to announce our date and location by November 1, so stay tuned!

Personal Essay from Nicole re: Relationship to Land

 Earth is so much a part of my childhood. 

Oil City. The earth as a resource. Not like connecting again to the source of life. Unless crude oil is the source of life. Which, maybe a case could be made…..

As a child, and even young adult, being from Oil City seemed important, a source of historic pride. The first, the hub.

Now, it’s sad. What has oil been a source for, for that community? Anyone who had wealth from it moved out long ago. They are no longer part of that community. I suppose some folks still have residuals from wells on their property. 

What has oil been a resource for? Pain. Poverty. Sickness. Stench. Ghosts. 

Earth as a child meant work. Pick rocks. Pick and snap beans. Pick and pit cherries. Be hot. Get up early. 

Hunting. Be cold. Get up early. Necessary to protect the garden and orchard. Necessary to save money on meat. 

Actually, the garden and orchard were necessary, too. To save money on veggies and fruits, especially in the winter. 

Why could these things not have been joyful? Why did we not talk about the land? The process? Our connections to our family history? Why was it just another chore? Maybe for a bookish kid like me, it always would have been. But I’d like to think I’d see it differently, if it was presented differently. 

Maybe that’s why it all felt like work. It came from necessity, not curiosity, joy, connection, desire. But from fear and need.