Day Three: "It was an amazing evening"

The third gathering of the group for ecological artmaking was one week ago, February 21, so this posting is late indeed. A persistent flu virus has kept me cloistered indoors for nearly two weeks, and though tonight's forecast of extremely cold weather is daunting, I don't want to miss this evening's activities.

The morning after the third gathering I had an email from one of the participants:

"We missed you this evening, it was an amazing evening similar to last week as we spent the first little bit creating a thunderstorm with percussion, and then broke off for forty five minutes to various medias and elements. Once again reuniting at the end to bring together the process and discuss ideas."

The creative energy of the people involved in this project is one of the best antidotes I know to the creeping despair that can settle into one's soul after reading about the damage being done to the planet. I try to balance my reading between the "factual" material from writers who are keeping tabs on the current state of the world, and those who, while acknowledging the crisis, make it their task to make a deeper connection with the natural world and find creative ways to engage with issues.

The thought of that percussive thunderstorm last week has remained with me for the promise that such sounds offer of rain and wind for a thirsty earth. For all that our winter of heavy snow has seemed endless, all that white stuff will soon be water. Since only 2% of the earth's water is not saline, we have treasure heaped up outdoors in the form of snow banks.

Much of my reading the past couple of weeks has been generally about environmental art, and more specifically about water and our increasing need for it to be clean, healthy and abundant.

David Rothenberg's Book of Music and Nature is not expressly about water as an element but recognizes the musical qualities of moving water and the world's largest creatures -- the whales -- who live in that element and make their music there. In his introduction Rothenberg writes, "With only a little effort, the whole world can be heard as music." Even stones -- Icelandic composer Elias Davidsson has explored the sounds of stones gathered at different geographical locations.

The soundscape component of our eco-art making is proving to be a way of pulling together all the other creations inspired by the four elements we'll be focused on.