birch, please

It feels like there's so much happening on the screen when you look at the internet, so much visual chaos in the form of ads and sidebars and videos that play automatically, but, God, just look at some dirt. Look at a regular patch of grass and weeds and look at how much there is going on.

How many species of plant are in a weedy, overgrown lawn? Whatever number you guess, it's too low, because you haven't learned to see. You can only see big and obvious shapes and colors. But I realized I was trapped in this...almost toddler-like simplification in my perception, and I realized that the more I cracked my brain open trying to identify plants and trees, the more I could zoom in on the parts of nature that had once seemed like the finest level of detail and see higher and more intricate tiers of complexity.

To almost everyone, grass looks like just grass. Do you know how many kinds of grass there are? Do you know how many I've found in my own yard? There are at least 15 different grass and sedge species in our yard. And I have no idea how they all looked like just grass to me before. There are dozens and dozens of species of plants and wildflowers in our "lawn."

And there are trees! Tiny saplings, the children of great and mighty trees, constantly sprouting in lawns and roadsides and ditches, unable to know that they are destined to be unnoticed and cursorily mowed down.

Today I saw a tiny oak tree, maybe six inches tall, poking from the grass in a green, well-maintained lawn, and I felt so much grief, because that little tree is never going to grow up to be a towering giant, because—why? Because of the kind of world ours is. Not because we don't want to live in a world of towering trees, but because we've genuinely and through no malice or transgression of our own become unable to see and recognize those trees as tiny seedlings. Every patch of grass is the same as every other patch of grass to us.

And, because of the kind of world ours is, it doesn't really occur to us that there would be trees in our back yards if we looked. Trees? For free? Nothing in this world is free. Trees are forty-two dollars apiece, at the garden center at Lowe's. Trees are an asset to highlight when you are selling your house. 1.2 acres, fruit trees on property! 1.4 acres, mature trees!

Anything that begins to grow in your lawn unprompted, without your permission, is a "weed," automatically in our minds, because...it doesn't make sense. Beautiful flowers and sweet, edible fruits happen because of hard work, fertilizer, landscape fabric, weeding, watering, soil testing kits, hundreds spent on potted perennials. We all know that. Nothing generous or beautiful ever just happens to us, so every little stranger that germinates in our lawns is a "weed," threatening to take away what little we do have.

And yet. And yet blackberries are ripening in the shaded thicket out behind my house. And yet wild chicory and dandelions are blooming in the tall grass to the brush pile. I show my family a picture of what the purple passion flowers will look like when they bloom, and it's like it's hard for them to believe—that's native to here? they just grow wild?

They do. They do. And so do majestic oak and sycamore trees, elm and tulip poplar. The seeds of trees that may outlive us by hundreds of years have germinated in our lawns and sidewalks and drainage ditches. This place was a forest once, and in all its little edges and corners it is always starting to become a forest again.

I think we HAVE to see this. I think every single person needs to break their brain with 25 hours of trying to identify plants using Wikipedia, Google, and pure confusing-sedge-induced rage until they get their third eye blown wide the fuck open.

People need to see this happening with their own eyes, the Happening that is always happening in nature, the activity and life always flourishing and living in every square millimeter of every yard and walkway and roadside, how absolutely absolutely bursting with species even a crack in the pavement on the side of the road is, how mind-numbingly simplified and static our concept of the natural world around us is next to the real thing.

There are so many kinds of lightning bugs. Did y'all know that? I'm seeing them now. There are many different species, with different colors and markings, and I'm noticing them chilling in the foliage around me in the daytime. I'm listening to the songs of birds and learning to recognize them, and there are so many more birds around me than I really realized.

I heard the call of a bird today that I did not recognize. Why didn't it register in my mind before that birdsongs I couldn't recognize were gaps in my knowledge?

Why doesn't it feel essential, immediate and necessary to seek knowledge about the other living things in our immediate surroundings? To at least know their names?

If I don't know my neighbor's name after living next to them for ten years, I haven't done anything to be their neighbor; they're just a stranger that lives near me. Are the trees and birds around me not my neighbors too? People will look up the name of an actor they've recognized before in a show, the name of a song they heard. Why are grasses and trees so far outside of what immediately seems relevant to us? What has our world done to our curiosity? To our sense of belonging in a world that is fundamentally interconnected and generous and alive?

Out there, on a pristine green lawn, a tiny seedling of an oak tree sprouts, barely six inches high. I saw it earlier on my walk, and I felt so sad. I'm sorry that we cut down a forest and turned it into this place. That's what I thought. But something changed in my mind as I thought it.

I realized that a forest was not a thing but a process, and not a process either in the sense that there's a beginning and an end result, but in the sense of things happening and being connected to other things, and I understood that the immensity of this thing far transcended what the word "forest" denotes.

A baby oak tree growing with nobody's permission on a flat green lawn belongs to this thing, "forest," just as much as a massive hundreds-of-years-old oak tree in the depths of the woods belongs to "forest," because a forest is growth, survival, persistence, the fight of a place that once was a forest to become forest again

Once I started trying to learn how to transplant and grow little plants and trees, these shattering realizations started coming to me. I really believe that once you put a little effort into learning to observe, Nature herself will teach you.

Plantcraft—The Ways of the Plants.

Tell your secrets to the trees in forest deep, let them guard you as you sleep. Moon above and soil below, whispered wind haunting low.

Shed your tears in forest lake, release emotion and as necessary stone-heart make. Pleasure will be found where root and mystery and darkness are bound.

It was easy ($300 + showing up to court and politely answering some yes-or-no questions from a judge) and my only regret is not doing it years ago.

Do you want to paint but pain, disability, limited range of motion or tremors are getting in the way of that?

It’s world watercolor month and disability pride month, so let’s combine the two and talk about ways that you can watercolor and make it a little easier on yourself.

First up, if you struggle with grip issues, some manufacturers like Blick will actually make some of their brushes with egg shaped handles.

These are typically easier to hold, but they do come in a limited range of options so you can get something like one of these egg shaped pencil holders that will do more or less the same thing. These are just a bit easier to hold and they can reduce hand fatigue.

Next up, if you struggle with something like tremors or shaking, weight is your friend. There are universal weighted handles that you can slip onto the end and tighten on your brush or whatever you’re using as long as it fits in, and it adds a bunch of weight to the back end of it so it reduces the amount of shaking that’s possible.

If you struggle with grip strength or need something to help you hold onto something, this is an easy ring writer clip, and you can slot your brush into it and even if you’re not gripping it tightly it’s still secured to your hand.

Another option is something like this, this is an easy grip. It’s a silicone attachment that you can place on that give you an extra handle and extra security for holding your brushes and other art tools.

And finally one of my favorite tools is this artist leaning bridge. Mine is an acrylic piece of plastic that just sits over the top and allows you to rest on top while you can paint underneath it.

Hiring managers acknowledge as much. In a survey of more than 1,000 hiring managers last summer, 27% reported having job postings up for more than four months. Among those who said they advertised job postings that they weren’t actively trying to fill, close to half said they kept the ads up to give the impression the company was growing, according to Clarify Capital, a small-business-loan provider behind the study. One-third of the managers who said they advertised jobs they weren’t trying to fill said they kept the listings up to placate overworked employees.

Hokay so.

Let me preface this with some personal history. It's not relevant to the sins of the advertising industry perse but it illustrates how I started to grow to hate it.

I wanted to be a veterinarian growing up, but to be a vet you basically have to be good enough to get into medical school. I do not have the math chops or discipline to make it in medical school. I went into art instead, and in a desperate attempt to find some commercial viability that didn't involve moving to California, I went into graphic design.

I've been a graphic designer for about seven or eight years now and I've worn a lot of hats. One of them was working in a print shop. Now, the print shop had a lot of corporate customers who had various ad campaigns. One of them was Gate City Bank, which had a bigass stack of postcards ordered every couple months to mail to their customers.

Now, paper comes from Dakota Paper, and they make their paper the usual way. Somewhere far, far from our treeless plain there is a forest of tall trees. These trees are cut down and put on big fossil fuel burning trucks and hauled to a paper mill that turns them into pulp while spewing the most fowl odors imaginable over the neighboring town and loads the pulp up with bleach to give it a nice white color.

Then the paper is put on yet another big truck and hauled off to the local paper depot, then put on another big truck and delivered to my print shop, where I turned the paper into postcards telling people to go even deeper into debt to buy a boat because it's almost summer. The inks used are a type of nasty heat sensitive plastic that is melted to the surface of the paper with heat. Then the postcards are put on yet ANOTHER truck and sent to the bank, which puts them on ANOTHER truck and finally into the hands of their customers, who open their mail and take one look at the post card and immediately discard it.

Heaps and heaps and literal hundreds of pounds of literal garbage created at the whim of the marketing team several times a year. And thats just one bank in one city.

I came to realize very quickly that graphic design was the delicate art of turning trees into junk mail.

And wouldn't you know it there are a TON of companies that basically only do junk mail. Many of them operate under the guise of a "charity," sending you pictures of suffering children or animals and begging for handouts and when they get those handouts the executives take a nice fat cut, give some small token amount to whatever cause they pay lip service to, and then put the rest of the cash right back into making more mailers. "Direct mail marketing" they call it.

Oh but maybe it's not so bad, you can advertise online after all. Now that there's decent ad blocker out there and better anti-virus ads usually don't destroy your computer anymore just by existing.

Except now when I search for the exact business I want on Google it's buried under three or four different "promoted search items" tricking me into clicking on them only to shoot themselves in the foot because I searched for the specific result I wanted for a reason and couldn't use those other websites even if I felt like it.

And now we have advertising on YouTube and on every streaming service, forcing more and more eyes onto the ad for the brand new Buick Envision that parks itself because you're too stupid to do it on your own.

Oh thats ok maybe I'll get Spotify premium and go ad free and listen to some podcasts- SIKE we have the hosts of your show doing the song and dance now. Are you depressed and paranoid from listening to my true crime podcast about murdered and mutilated teenagers? That's ok, my sponsor Better Help can keep you sane enough to stay alive and spend more money.

It's gotten so terrible that now you have content farms, huge hubs of shell companies that crank out video after video to get more and more precious clicks. Which if the videos were innocuous maybe that wouldn't be so awful except now you have cooking hacks that can actually burn your house down and craft hacks that can electrocute you being flung into your eyes at the speed of mach fuck so some slimy internet clickbait jockey doesn't need to get a real job.

It of course goes without saying that animals are also relentlessly exploited by clickbait companies that will put them in compromising situations on purpose to create a fake fishing hack video or even just straight up killing them for sport by feeding small animals to a pufferfish that rips them apart for the camera.

And all of this, ALL of this doesn't even touch how adveritising is the death of art in general. Queer topics, any kind of interesting art, any kind of sex or substance use topics are scrubbed clean and hidden at the behest of advertisers.

Sex education, a nude statue, topics such as racism or sexism or bigotry in general have tags purged or hidden from search, even life saving information about SDTs or drug use, because if someone saw that and complained then Verizon might sell fewer tablets and we can't fucking have that.

Conservative talking heads often bitch and moan that they're being censored on social media. The stupid part is, they're right! They are being censored! But it's not by a woke mob, it's by ATT and Coca Cola not wanting their adspace sharing screen time with their stupid fucking opinions.

However, they won't ever figure that out, because the talking heads they get their marching orders from like Tucker and Jones ALSO rely on the sweet milk flowing from the sponsorship teat and they aren't about to turn on their meal ticket so they have to come up with even stupider shit to say for the train to continue rolling.

I managed to rant this far without even getting into the ads I see for the beauty industry. The other day a botox ad described wrinkles as "moderate to severe crows feet" as if wrinkles are a symptom of a fucking serious disease! Like having a flaw in your skin is a medical problem that you need thousands of dollars of literal botulism toxin to fix! I was incandescent with anger.