#landscape memory

“The Mechanics of Control”

They tried to contain what was never meant to be still. The structure holds — but only just. You can hear the tension in the water’s voice — patient, ancient, unforgiving. What they call control is only delay. Eventually, even concrete must remember how to break.

Usually I walk the rocks every day as if both my feet and the earth had a memory. There is a kind of playful balance of thinking and not thinking that happens as each shift of my weight finds its place. It is as if my feet and the rocks have tactile memories. I find balance as I study the high tide mark. I look at the shape and surface of driftwood, imagining where it came from. I collect shells bricks rocks and take photos. This year I walk the center path as if I am walking on the spine of the island. Touching the connective tissue of moss mud roots and fungus. The path has rocks that are like the vertebrae; the mushrooms and Indian pipes are clues to the interconnected quality of the natural world. I am in need of the underground connectivity.

The year that Zoe and Mike were married, every day I collected petals from the beach roses. I came home with pockets of them and put them out to dry in her unused bedroom. I enjoyed the mediation on love. I collected the daily handfuls to be thrown after the wedding ceremony back home in Virginia on the pond. Another year she was making sculptures out of rope. And each day as I walked the west shore I took a knife or scissors to collect colored rope from lobster traps that wash ashore. I looked at the tangled lines like some kind of illegible script. The accumulation and collecting gave structure to my days and gave both the earth and my hand memory.

En cuanto a géneros,  las sedas y el chiffon se combinan con textiles más básicos y fáciles de usar como algodón y denim, siempre de cuidada calidad.

Video: Jay Carreras

Ph: Ignacio Meisner

Ella: Lucia Bertotti para Universe Management

Back: Ramiro Grosso y Francisco Lux