Don’t see how to share photos but I try and take pictures of the space midsummer, fall and spring equinox and mid winter. Keeps me focused on creation, the work of it, the beauty and the passing.
I cannot find the photo to share that I'm going to reference here. Let's get that disappointment out of the way...
Years ago, I lived walking distance from work. Two miles thru neighborhoods in a small city in Iowa, but in the middle of the walk was a good sized park. Woodland trails, a creek, hills.
One wintry day, I had just crossed the creek, emerging from the bare trees. And there was an ornament hanging from a limb.
An ice disc with a frozen brown leaf in it. Attached with fishing line, it was obviously not meant to exist forever, if even the week.
That image has never left me, remembering when I stumbled across something that caught my eye and truly stopped my thoughts.
Thank you for sharing this. The fact that you can't find the photo almost makes it better. That's the paradox at the heart of impermanent art: the object disappears, but the moment it creates in you doesn't. The memory, the feeling—that's permanent.
I think you’ve described why I enjoy gardening — or, more precisely, the kind of gardening that leans into the nature of the plants themselves. It’s more collaboration than control.
A lovely meditation on the beauty of things that don't last. I’m reminded of the Lotus, which blooms in the water but remains unattached to it. Your post is a great prompt to practice that same 'divine detachment' (Vairagya) and simply appreciate the beauty of the moment. Thank you.
Meditate on the mortality of life... I have popped out of this soil, and into this soil I shall go, so be mindful always... Gardening gently is also very therapeutic!
What I wanted to continue to write before my finger disappeared my train of thought, is that this creative proposal of yours, to go create an impermanent art piece, is a thrilling idea. Today I plan to do that with rocks and sand in the Santa Fe desert. My daughter is a paper artist. Her work is extraordinary.. she cuts paper with an exacto knife - words, images, swirls, and there's no way her work will last "forever". Check it out. www.AnnieVought.com.
I think this is my favorite Substack. I keep wanting to write to tell you that. I'm being challenged right (maybe who isn't) with an old husband who was an extraordinary jazz musician whose work and life has almost melted - to follow the Goldsworthy metaphor - back to its original form.
Nan, I appreciate you saying that! It means more than you know. And I can feel so much love in the way you speak about your husband. Sending you and him so much love.
I often think of gardening as art being created, and then changing on its own, and then disappearing waiting to be recreated each year.
Midsummer
That's a beautiful take on gardening! I agree.
Don’t see how to share photos but I try and take pictures of the space midsummer, fall and spring equinox and mid winter. Keeps me focused on creation, the work of it, the beauty and the passing.
I cannot find the photo to share that I'm going to reference here. Let's get that disappointment out of the way...
Years ago, I lived walking distance from work. Two miles thru neighborhoods in a small city in Iowa, but in the middle of the walk was a good sized park. Woodland trails, a creek, hills.
One wintry day, I had just crossed the creek, emerging from the bare trees. And there was an ornament hanging from a limb.
An ice disc with a frozen brown leaf in it. Attached with fishing line, it was obviously not meant to exist forever, if even the week.
That image has never left me, remembering when I stumbled across something that caught my eye and truly stopped my thoughts.
Thank you for sharing this. The fact that you can't find the photo almost makes it better. That's the paradox at the heart of impermanent art: the object disappears, but the moment it creates in you doesn't. The memory, the feeling—that's permanent.
I think you’ve described why I enjoy gardening — or, more precisely, the kind of gardening that leans into the nature of the plants themselves. It’s more collaboration than control.
BTW, to see another aspect of Andy Goldsworthy’s work, if you’re ever in Edinburgh, visit the National Museum for both his rooftop garden and his constructions in the Early People gallery. https://environmentalsculptures.wordpress.com/national-museum-of-scotland/
That probably would have connected for me if I garden, but I don't. It's something I want to get into!
I took the Death Archetype test, and the result was right on. I am a Phoenix. I am 81 years old, and totally appreciate your writing. Thank you.
Love that! I’m also a Phoenix. If I’m fortunate to live as long as you, I wonder if I will still be one at 81.
A lovely meditation on the beauty of things that don't last. I’m reminded of the Lotus, which blooms in the water but remains unattached to it. Your post is a great prompt to practice that same 'divine detachment' (Vairagya) and simply appreciate the beauty of the moment. Thank you.
Beautiful add about the Lotus! Thank you.
Meditate on the mortality of life... I have popped out of this soil, and into this soil I shall go, so be mindful always... Gardening gently is also very therapeutic!
I hear that a lot about gardening! 💚
I love Andy Goldsworthys work. And I love this too: “when we stop making things to last, we start making things to feel.”
I’ve often taken even just 5 minutes to make a little nature creation. I love the fact it’s temporary.
Love that!
What I wanted to continue to write before my finger disappeared my train of thought, is that this creative proposal of yours, to go create an impermanent art piece, is a thrilling idea. Today I plan to do that with rocks and sand in the Santa Fe desert. My daughter is a paper artist. Her work is extraordinary.. she cuts paper with an exacto knife - words, images, swirls, and there's no way her work will last "forever". Check it out. www.AnnieVought.com.
I'm so glad the invitation resonated, and that you accepted! Rocks and sand in the Santa Fe desert sounds perfect.
And I checked out your daughter's work. It's incredible. I would love to collaborate with her one day, if she's ever interested.
I think this is my favorite Substack. I keep wanting to write to tell you that. I'm being challenged right (maybe who isn't) with an old husband who was an extraordinary jazz musician whose work and life has almost melted - to follow the Goldsworthy metaphor - back to its original form.
Nan, I appreciate you saying that! It means more than you know. And I can feel so much love in the way you speak about your husband. Sending you and him so much love.
Lovely! I was aware of Goldsworthy's work in stone, but not in ice. What a gloriously temporary art form! Thanks for sharing.
Here's some of his work with sticks too: https://andygoldsworthystudio.com/
Such an incredible visionary!
Had never heard of that artist but really appreciate his work.
He should be more famous!