“Our principle spirit work is a response to the troubles of the times; not freedom from the troubles of the times. Freedom from these kind of troubles is truancy, not freedom”
- Stephen Jenkinson
Today, in the midst of the 6th mass extinction and extreme wealth inequality, beings world-wide contend with the impacts of the Great Acceleration. Naturally, many of us are reckoning with our relationship to place, materiality, and voice as the consequences of unsustainable lifestyles and ideologies loop back to meet us in the shape of global warming.
What is the obligation of an artist working today? How do we make meaning, let alone, sense of these times? I wonder, in an era when we must scale back, can we find sanctuary within limitation? I believe the answer to these questions has to do with our capacity to stay with the trouble, as multispecies feminist theorist Donna Haraway says. “Staying with the trouble of living and dying together on a damaged earth will prove more conducive to the kind of thinking that would provide the means to building more livable futures.” (Haraway, 2016)
In this essay I offer my artwork, insights and observations about the role of grief work in the search for meaning-making amidst socio-ecological crisis. Amidst my artworks is an undercurrent of influence stemming from geographic, academic, exploratory, and observational origins. These experiences shape the way in which ecological and emotional questions intersect. My perspective is a consequence of my encounters growing up in Northeast America. As a european-American on the receiving end of upper-middle class prosperity, I’m quite sure that my ancestors fixated on personal growth and accumulation to secure the livelihood of their kin. Yet today, my brother and I are fixated on scaling back, letting go, and taking lessons from indigenous and post-colonial perspectives.
I am a “formally trained” visual artist. But I also have a background in the healing arts. This is because I felt that my institutional training fell dramatically short of addressing meaning-making in a time such as ours. In my final years studying painting at the Rhode Island School of Design, I couldn’t make sense of why I was making art. I was wreckoning with a crisis of futility. So after school I hit the road to study under vagabond poets, culture activists, healers, and farmers to secure insight on the spirit work of our time. After gaining some perspective, I realized the wisdom in orienting yourself towards the trouble; towards the elephant in the room. It is through this discovery that an aesthetic of ecological greif, repair, and praise emerged in my artwork. Or rather, re-emerged. I was able to shed new light on the brooding, moody angst and passion I felt as a young teen growing up in a culture seduced by material distraction and blind to its impact. I finally had the courage to openly accept that everything is not okay. More importantly, I understood that showing up to feel what is wrong is important work that is easily put-off in a culture of distraction, deflection and denial. In light of this I wonder, if we don’t show up to feel what is wrong, are we necessarily entertaining delusion?
Paying attention is worthy to examine who does and does not have the tolerance for discomfort and precarity in this atmosphere; to who does and does not have the tolerance to stay with the trouble. Who among us opens their ears and eyes to what is going on? And what mindsets, or lifestyles, make it possible to not perceive what is going on? It seems my culture has a hard time accepting endings, limitations, and ephemerality. We are stead-fast oriented toward linear progress and I believe this is connected to a fear of death. It seems possible that many of our actions and accelerated pace is grounded in a place of denial of what is happening around us.
I wonder about wealthy, developed nations such as mine: at what point does the wayward drive toward progress recognize encroaching limitations? As Timothy Morton notes, “Global warming is a symptom of industrialization and industrialization is a symptom of massively accelerated agriculture.” (2016) My piece A Culture of Fire, is a reflection on industrial acceleration. Working men heave with strength and might in an industrial landscape, while unbeknownst to their efforts, a body of water emerges from a subtle explosion or breakage in the background.
Building on this reflection, I notice we are in too much of a rush to take a pause and take stock of the environmental shifts happening around us. For those paying attention, it is becoming increasingly evident that the modern capitalist project doesn’t have solid ground to stand on. Amends have not been made for historical and ongoing tresspasses. The soil, no longer fertile, is haunting. It carries the aches and cries of un-acknowledged dead. In light of this atmosphere, my painting, Ancestor of Maize, uses motifs of the corporeal, ancestry and agriculture, as well as the celestial and the underground to articulate a sense of human and earthly co-existence for the sake of making amends.
I believe there is a broken-ness we must respect about the modern American lifestyle. Respect, so that we might become response-able. That is, able to respond. Able to engage different ways of being in and relating to the world. Now, as ever, I believe we must ask ourselves: What is the consequence of our actions?
The answer is grim, no doubt. But before we move on to the latest tik-tok video, can we take a pause here? Can we let the consequences of our actions sink in and shape us? Have a consequence on us? It is not an easy thing to sit with, I will give you that. But I feel there is a diamond to be found in the ruff here.
By orienting toward socio-ecological disrepair, we are likely to meet despair. However, I believe this is necessary groundwork to render a person capable of mobilizing toward learned, livable futures that are rooted in reciprocal ecologies. Further, such response-ability has the potential to authentically remedy a crisis of futility for the individual and cultivate pathways of creative resilience in communities and environments.
But before turning to resiliency, let me return to the role of grief work. For I am often wary of those leaping toward hope without having done the grief work. Or worse, as a way to by-pass the grief work. Such positive facing, ambitious undertakings seem often rooted in the same quality of redemptive drive that is characteristic of the acceleration and progress that got us into this mess in the first place.
We grieve the loss of what we value. Where grieving ecological destruction is taboo is evidence of a lack of value placed upon the Earth and a lack of understanding or appreciation for our relational ties and dependency upon the Earth. “Ecological grief is likely to be more common among peoples that retain close living and working relationships to natural environments than those who do not.” (Cunsolo and Ellis, 2018)
It is true, obviously, that no single person is responsible for global warming. However, as philosopher Timothy Morton speculates, we simultaneously have to hold a larger truth: as a species, we operate as a geological agent that did cause global warming and the sixth mass extinction underway of our planet. He coined the term hyperobject to describe things that are massively distributed in time and space, such as global warming. (2013, pp 1, 5) Likewise, post-colonial theorist and historian, Dipesh Chakrabarty writes,
“We are both part of the present of the human historical time as well as the present of some sort of a geological period that we are calling the Anthropocene. It's out of this sense of falling; being thrown into this doubleness that my first questions about climate change arose, as a humanist, as a human.” (2021)
I spend a great deal of time exploring my capacity to attune to both of these truths simultaneously; the latter one, in particular. I use art as a vehicle to speculate somatic attunement to non-human time and non-human entities. As in the works Tuning into Strata and Submission of a Body Into Earth, I use the body as a point of reference to speculate entanglement, collapsing the boundaries between “self” and “other”, “self” and “environment”, “self” and the “dead” or “unborn”.
Global warming is a sobering encounter that illuminates a fate of interconnectivity. It becomes ever clearer to many that there is no way out and there is no “away”. Our trash and our exhaust come back to meet us by way of an elusive, looming recalibration that is seemingly indifferent to our fate. As it turns out, the Earth speaks. And [she] is communicating the necessity of replacing anthropocentric perspectives with multi-species, multi-level perspectives.
I am ironically grateful for our troubling fate as a species, because it necessarily breaks a spell of ideological separation from the natural world. As the hypnosis of individualism dissipates it becomes evident that I do not exist as an independent agent. As a consequence of entanglement, I am responsible. By accepting responsibility for the actions of myself, my ancestors, and my culture, I am rooted in a web of actions and consequences that spans time and space. Therein, I am able to reclaim the wild-edges of my humanness.
As demonstrated in my piece A Web of Intra-Actions, piecing together individual fragments to create a larger whole helps me realize the interconnectivity of a seemingly fragmented world. Recycling art objects is also a way of observing the constant state of change behind all beings, regardless of how fixed or permanent something might feel.
I find sanctuary and sanity in the aesthetics of darkness and limitation for their capacity to ground and stabilize being otherwise. Through painting and drawing I can process ideas about how to stay with the trouble; how to meet ends and let myself be re-arranged; how to appreciate the fertility of transformation; how to find sanctuary in limitation. Through art I can think through an acceptance of change and lean into death as a transformative act. Like composting, I can appreciate there is a cycle I am embedded in and my death does not just belong to me.
I stay close to the trouble to sober my psyche and catalyze delusion into response-ability. By acknowledging and staying with what is not okay in the present, I believe we can compost our despair into sanity, purpose, compassion, and interconnectivity. This is where resilience comes in.
“Recognizing and reimagining our dominant signal is the beginning of change.”
-Anthropocene: The Human Epoch
Bibliography
Aloi, Giovanni. “Art after Nature #10.” Art After Nature, November 2021, School of the Art Institute of Chicago. Course Lecture.
Anthropocene: The Human Epoch. Directed by Jennifer Baichwal, Edward Burtynsky, and Nicholas de Pencier, Mercury Films, 2018.
Chakrabarty, Dipesh. “The Climate of History in a Planetary Age: Dipesh Chakrabarty in conversation with Homi K. Bhabha.” YouTube, uploaded by The University of Chicago, Jun 29, 2021, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AmL0V6xBh6o
Chakrabarty, Dipesh. “Whose Anthropocene? A Response.” RCC Perspectives (Internet), no. 2, Rachel Carson Center for Environment and Society, 2016, pp. 101–14.
Chapman, Anna, www.AnnaChapmanArt.com. Accessed December 2021.
Cunsolo, Ashlee, and Ellis, Neville R. “Ecological Grief as a Mental Health Response to Climate Change-Related Loss.” Nature climate change 8.4 (2018): 275–281. Web.
Haraway, Donna J. Staying with the Trouble: Making Kin in the Chthulucene. Duke University Press, 2016, https://doi.org/10.1215/9780822373780.
Inoue, C., Y. A. and Moreira, P., F. (2016) “Many worlds, many nature(s), one planet: Indigenous knowledge in the Anthropocene” in Revista Brasileira de Política Internacional, pp.1-19
Jenkinson, Stephen. “Part 01 - Spirit Work, Conspiracies, Elderhood and Grief.” Orphan Wisdom interview with Kimberly Ann Johnson, September 2021, https://soundcloud.com/orphan-wisdom/2021-september-kimberly-ann-johnson-part-01-spirit-work-conspiracies-elderhood-and-grief.
Morton, Timothy. “What Is Dark Ecology?” Changing Weathers, 2016, http://www.changingweathers.net/en/episodes/48/what-is-dark-ecology. Accessed 1 December 2021.
Morton, Timothy. Hyperobjects : Philosophy and Ecology after the End of the World . University of Minnesota Press, 2013.