Last night, I hauled and dragged a christmas tree four blocks to my house. When I got there, I kicked the halloween pumpkin, which had been disemboweled by a single-minded, grapefruit-shaped squirrel, off the stoop into a bush. Time for new seasonal holiday flora. The tree is now up, wrapped in lights and covered in the sparkly sentiment of ornaments. I keep looking at it surprised, like: How did that get there, all decorated? I do remember one-pointedly deciding to go for it, get a tree and decorate it last night, and being in motion for a couple of hours, but somehow it still surprises me that at some times, a thing is not there, then it is. And even more surprising, I’m the one that brought it there and set it up. Everything is kind of like this: a fluid action of things arising and passing away. Last summer, after leaving the 2017 tree to dry out back, I limbed and fast-burned its crackly remains in our fire pit. Now its ash beneath ash 10 inches or so down, currently being covered with snow - freed gases long gone. All the summer fires: where are they now? ..... The way things change form, burning in fire, dissolving in water, being eaten, decomposing, ending, beginning, growing is relentless and unstoppable. The way we charge about on energetic days, doing things, moving ourselves and our stuff, preparing and presenting, exploring and changing, all of this - where *is* it? Perhaps it’s in our records: memories, photographs, websites, objects, other people’s memories. Is that the semi-satisfying gesture of social media, sharing and looking, witnessing this relentless stream of event, view, moment? On this particularly quiet snowy day, I just feel like asking.
In your life, what’s now here that a day or so was not? Make a list. I’ll do it too. Here's mine: snow the food in our fridge the tree, decorated! an interesting email from a local artist I hadn’t heard about til today the sounds coming from the other room the particular arrangement of objects on my couch a current list of things to do memories of the weekend What’s gone that was here a week ago? a mostly in-tact pumpkin a mild fall climate herbs in the garden all the food we’ve eaten everything that has gone down a drain concern over last week’s upcoming events anticipation and preparation for thanksgiving an open space in the livingroom where the tree now is After making these lists, what do you notice? TWO OFFERINGS: 1. My third book about the Elements of the Periodic Table, similarly explores the constant in and out flow of states and forms. Check it out here. and Purchase the book here. 2. A related art project is called You Are Legend, and you can see it here.
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ALIVECheck out the newest book:
FIELD GUIDE TO AMBIGUITY NOW--ISH A solo exhibition Opening June 7—Sept 6 2024, Saugatuck Center for the Arts, Saugatuck MI. FREE SESSION WITH HANNAH!If you feel overwhelmed, confused or just plain excited by what's afoot in your life, and would like some excellent clarifying space and tools, try a session with Hannah! She's been a coach for 15 years. First 30 minutes is just to see what it's like...
AuthorHannah Burr is a contemporary artist and author. Originally from Boston, she lives in Ann Arbor MI. Archives
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