Wednesday, December 1, 2010

The story I told the tree


'False Pass'  oil and soft pastel, charcoal;
Kathleen Faulkner



There are several garbage islands out in the oceans. These are huge masses of plastic where nothing lives except previously owned stuff, re-morphed into garbage that will last forever and that the fish and birds and animals eat because it looks like food.

It's all made from oil and contributes to our potential doom.

Of course, there are other ingredients in the doom recipe: global warming, pesticides, radiation, clear cutting and the destruction of whole ecosystems to feed humans' need for stuff.   There are many more, too many to mention.


Everyone that has something to sell hopes that someone will buy it.  I am an artist.  I create work because  it fulfills me and it supports me.  It's still stuff.  I often have conflicts about it all.  We all contribute to the doom recipe but less really is more and, as much as I can justify Art as a quality of life necessity, it still requires materials, some more destructive than others, to make it.  I wonder if I have any right to feel that what I do is worthwhile.  Maybe I'm just using resources for my own selfishness. 

Recently a friend read this story to me:  Global Warming and Art

It changed my perspective a bit and eased the angst.