Trees give shade: strong, swaying and still. They communicate through their roots and depend on each other. They are normally green, brown and grey. But sometimes pink, or yellow, or white. They are observant, omnipresent and benevolent; like a God. They have been here long before us and will be here long after. Growing and observing, maternal: reproducing and providing.
Living in a big city, I really feel a lack of trees. I know we have a lot, but it is just not quite enough. Perhaps by looking harder, we will find even more?
Lamp posts give shade. They lean over us and also provide light. They communicate through their wires, buzzing and blinking below our feet. They are normally just grey or black, but at night they glow. Yellow, orange, gold and silver. Tall and dark, but protective and guiding. They too will last for a while, but perhaps their impermanence can also be valued: they are constantly improving.
My project began with the belief that we should make a special effort to access nature: seeking it out for ourselves rather than willing it to come to us. I was prepared to demand that we spend at least 20 minutes a day, outside, under a tree and in silence. This quickly seemed unreasonable. I could never manage that and why should I?
I was troubled by the fact that I could not prescribe nature a definition. Where do we draw the line from nature to not nature, what even is the opposite? I swiftly concluded that everything has come from the earth, so therefore, everything is natural.
This concept propelled me forwards. I realised that by seeing everything as nature, I was looking through a lens. This lens highlighted the humanity in everything.
By concluding that all we see is natural, we will see the world through a lens: magnifying the humanity in everything.