008. indications
many plants in this one
Greetings [:
Compared to a month ago, I’ve been spending more time outside these days. Finding home base on a certain rock. Two rocks. Actually, maybe three. At the moment, we have a few “favourite rocks”.
It’s hard to explain my love for landscapes that are peppered with rocks and trees strewn so haphazardly. There is a certain spot on the hills, just 10 minutes from where we live, that has become our favourite spot. Coming from a tropical country, I know enough about vegetative spaces that are dense, damp, and dark, enough to avoid it when I can. Those places are lush, teeming with life, good for quickly passing through. Though, definitely not great for hanging out. Because, insects. Where we are is just the right amount of spacious. A good variety of rocks, slopes, trees — both standing and fallen over, bushes… all of these keep things interesting. A few times last week, we settled on a rock (one of the three), and just enjoyed what those hours of those days had to offer. Surrounded by greens, with the blue overhead.
Not all days are made equal. I love blue sky days [:
❥ Desire and where to find it
I often wonder how animals and plants came to be the way they are. You know, when you consider the animals and plants that we recognize today — the ones that are in existence right now, whether or not we know them by name or have had personal encounters — does it occur to you that what you are looking at is the best of the lot, the fittest in survival of the fittest?
There is no doubt that this cream of the crop can only be handpicked. If you’re familiar with Darwinin theory, you probably know a thing or two about natural selection — in layman’s term, handpicked by nature. If you’re familiar with the lengths humans have gone to to make dogs and cats family, and you kinda know that some amount of effort was made to cultivate grapes and watermelon that are seedless, you probably know about selective breeding, otherwise known as handpicked by Man.
Humans have agency and are able to exercise choices that give shape to the many things we see today. That we already know. Plants — our botanical companions — on the other hand, seem to be the least agentic of the lot. Because unlike humans and animals, plants are unable to move, and as such seem completely dependent on external forces and a convergence of suitable conditions for their survival and reproduction. It is understandable that most of us walk away thinking of plants as helpless and passive.
But, here’s something I found out recently that is utterly fascinating and could potentially change the way you see plants:
In The Botany of Desire, Michael Pollan goes into detail about four familiar botanical species — the apple, the tulip, marijuana, and the potato — and relates it to how they satisfy four fundamental human yearnings — sweetness, beauty, intoxication, and control. In this “whimsical, literary romp”, as LA Times calls it, Pollan drew extensively from various historical and cultural contexts to make his case, urging us to consider this seemingly wild possibility: Instead of thinking of plants as inert, what if we consider plants as beings with agency, beings that work collaboratively with us, pandering to our desires and longings — our desire for sweetness in the case of apples, beauty in the case of flowers, the desire for altered states of consciousness in the case of the cannabis plant, the desire for control in the case of potatoes which can be genetically modified with varying ease — in exchange for sticking around? It is our active selection of these traits that keeps these species in the gene pool, a process that we partake in in return for the sweetness, beauty, intoxication and control we are offered. Those are the terms of the contract, inscribed in mysterious ways. If you consider the possibility that the process is collaborative, and you walk away convinced, like I was, you might come to see that as humans, we have never, in actual fact, in the larger scheme of things, lorded over anything. As humans, we're acted on, as much as we act on others.
More than most of us do, Chapman seems to have had a knack for looking at the world from the plants’ point of view—“pomocentrically,” you might say. He understood he was working for the apples as much as they were working for him. Perhaps that’s why he sometimes likened himself to a bumblebee, and why he would rig up his boat the way he did. Instead of towing his shipment of seeds behind him, Chapman lashed the two hulls together so they would travel down the river side by side.
Pollan's basic premise is that by looking closely at what is maintained and kept close to us, one can begin to understand and decipher the many desires that sustain them. He goes on to suggest, quite beautifully, that by looking at a flower, we can come to understand better what a bee finds beautiful. And come to understand that the bee has a sweet tooth.
This way of looking at the world lends the story a different flavour. Not that I imagine evolutionary processes to be any less of a struggle, but I see that a softer layer of asserting and responding to desire is also, as much, present and part of the larger story.
Understanding this, my world has been so much more animated ever since.
☀ Summer Solstice
The snow has melted considerably and waters have been a-flowing. Draping so gracefully, veiling the earth and pebbles with its light touch. Occasionally, it turns to shaping channels in unsuspecting terrain. Despite that, there are certain shaded spots that seem to be a lot further behind in the spring thaw, still snow-covered. That took us by surprise when we went for a walk last evening; we found a suitable clearing and made a fire anyway. It took a few tries, and the fact that it was drizzling lightly didn’t help but we eventually coaxed the fire into being. We found some suitably long branches, pointy and angled in the ways we prefer, stuck our marshmallows on and waved it over the dancing flames. The evening of the longest day of this year was spent like that. White and squishy things atop flames atop snow. Good times.
I think rituals are important, rituals that mark the passage of time. Well, it’s just time, I hear you say, just a man-made construct. Our lives run in tandem with a certain perception of time as backdrop — for most of us, that’s “clock time”. Even then, that has been quite forcefully upended by the proliferation of async communication channels of content production and consumption these day. Paying attention to the length of day grounds me and I feel tethered to a rhythm unaffected by trends, obligations, and news cycles. I treasure the moments that offer me opportunities to notice, because I don’t always do, as much as the opportunities are ever present.
With that, we are officially in Summer.
𓃹 Field Report: Animal sightings? You betcha.
A couple of new findings over the past few days. A hare. Two mule deers. The house we’ve always walked past on our walks — we met their cat a few days ago; it’s great that he or she is fairly enthusiastic about us. Tail wagging ala happy dog style can only signal approval. A few more experiences of the gray jays — also know as the Canada Jay. They do come quite close and their boldness is a pleasant surprise!
𖦹 Sharing is caring
Two things I stumbled upon recently that I’m very very pleased to share:
Eyes as Big as Plates
A photo series by artist duo Riitta Ikonen and Karoline Hjorth, featuring retired farmers, fishermen, zoologists, plumbers, opera singers, housewives, artists, academics and ninety year old parachutists. The project seeks to explore human’s belonging in nature, and by focusing on the seniors, it seeks to cast a different light on a demographic group often forgotten or marginalized
“Each image in the series presents a solitary figure in a landscape, dressed in elements from surroundings that indicate neither time nor place. Here nature acts as both content and context: characters literally inhabit the landscape wearing sculptures they create in collaboration with the artists.”
I’m sharing a few favourites from the project here, but really, you should check out the whole collection for yourself. It really is quite delightful.
Norval (“Copper Thunderbird”) Morrisseau
The art of Anishinaabe Aboriginal Canadian artist Norval (Copper Thunderbird”) Morrisseau showed up as colourful motifs in a Google Doodle yesterday that was hard to miss. It caught my eye and that’s how I came upon these striking pieces of art. Known as the grandfather of the woodland art style, Morrisseau’s generous use of colour, motifs and shapes often span the entire canvas. Many of these pieces hold stories of traditions and spirituality, with politics occasionally woven in.
I do not know if any art that is impactful did not first began with a clear intent to make a statement. Art is necessarily political, can be political, and I do not believe it that it should free itself from the responsibility and possibility of creating openings for essential discourse. The role of art in my life these days is to move me in places that would otherwise be callused over, simply because it can be so emotionally draining to engage; in recent times, many conversations seem to take similar trajectories, often times escalating into identity politics, heavily grounded in language preferences.
So these days, art does feel like sacred vessels offering safe passage. Little boats that we can quietly board, turn towards the things we care about on our own terms and at our own time, without being hastened, heckled or confronted by the tricky and treacherous terrain that the usage of language in text-based mediums inevitably strays into.
Parting shots
I think and talk about language alot. Mostly because language is generative and inevitably shapes the way we see the world. And if I may slip in something light to tell you about this preoccupation with the many ways humans language the world, this would be it:
As always, thank you for reading this, it means alot to me to know that there is someone on the receiving end; as much as I write for myself, I also write for you. If you know another kindred soul who may enjoy this, do spread the word. There is much weaving to be done. As usual, I’m all ears — more than happy to hear from you, what you’re up to, and whatever else resonates or keeps you up at night. Till next time!
xx
Lim, should I look to the mountains or hope to see the stars?