This piece is a collaboration between two people and represents unfinished stories of connection. The first story represents the connection between three ecosystems in the Eastern Sierra: desert, alpine and riparian. The second story represents the connection which is created between people when we make with our hands. The third story was realized on the last day of weaving/netting and represents the connection with our own bodies and inspired the title of this piece. The viewer is asked to continue the story from their own perspective.

The story of connection between ecosystems is one that can be easily observed. It is something we are confronted with every time we go outside, something we feel in our core, yet this connection is often forgotten or devalued. In this piece, the three ecosystems are represented in the three coils through the use of colored rope. The netting represents the endless and intricate avenues in which these ecosystems are connected. These connections can appear excessively complicated, sometimes secretive. They may take circuitous routes, twist and fold back, though invariably every thread is connected. For us, that is reassuring and comforting. Water is one avenue for this interconnectedness. Water transports minerals, nutrients, substrate, pollution, biota, seeds and at times, lost socks. The mountains hold this water in the form of snow through winter, reminding us to be patient. Our patience is rewarded come spring when the water tumbles, rolls and erodes its way down into the desert valley. There are many other connections between the mountains, deserts and rivers. It is worth taking time to observe, listen and seek out those stories.

The story of connection between humans through making with our hands is a new story to me, but one that has been laying dormant just under the surface. Our hands did not evolve just to tap and type on computers, or to sit idle. Our hands have become a tool to create, transform and shape. It feels good when we create with our hands- this is our body’s way of reminding us that we are made for this. When we make with our hands, we can enter a calm flow state, a reprieve from busy and hectic days. We slow down and we open ourselves up, allowing us to become more empathetic to others and feel connected to the world around us. The results of our making are tangible, they can be felt and seen, and in turn we are imbued with a sense of purpose and empowerment. The desire to share with others the joy received from making with our hands is unavoidable. To share what you made, to share your skills with others, meet and talk with other creators, the community. Towns that are rich in makers are rich in community. I believe we are supposed to make something with our hands every day whether it’s cooking, sewing, sculpting, gardening, woodworking, or drawing in the dirt with a stick. It’s an integral part of being human.

The natural world is also a maker, a creator, of processes and life. So when we make with our hands, when we alter the natural state of something, we are in collaboration with the natural world. We must be aware of the need to share creative space with the natural world and leave some things as they are. Because what we create with our hands only appears beautiful in relation to the natural state of things. When we do not leave space for our creative collaborator, the natural world, our creations become convoluted and overpowering. Whether we are transforming hardwood trees and squirrel hair into a paintbrush or diverting part of a stream for irrigating food, we must always leave room for collaboration with other natural processes.

The story of connection between ourselves and our bodies is the story I needed to receive from engaging in this project. Many of us spend most of the day detached from our body, entertaining endless conversations in our head. We walk around assuming we are grounded in our physical self, but can often be so detached from our body that we are numb to our physical senses. We become unaware of the sensation of putting on a sock. To come back to your body is to give full attention to the sound of the woodpecker on the oak tree or to your partner making tea in the kitchen. To be in your body is to notice how the first water droplets in the shower feel as they trickle down your spine and to seek out the pleasures of having a body; one that feels, tastes, and hears. This could be called being present, but I also like to think of it as returning to our body. I heard May Lindstrom say that people think that everyone is out of their mind these days, but really everyone is out of their bodies. I agree, and in that light, I used this project as a way to return to my body. I began to truly feel the cotton rope running between my fingers. I slowed down so I could feel it more intensely. My movements became more fluid, enjoyable, more full. Joy permeated my body. Feeling a cotton rope with your fingers may seem mundane, but I assure you, it’s not. When you can no longer feel that cotton rope, your brain has removed your largest sensing organ from your experience of life. It is too easy to get stuck in your mind, having conversations with yourself, spinning in thoughts. When we feel disconnected from our body, we feel disconnected from other humans, from humanity, and we can lose hope for the world. Our mind spins about the endless problems of the world, fostering hopelessness. We may not be able to change our thoughts at that moment, but it is possible to always come back to body, whenever we want.

As I finish writing this, I realize that there is one more story to add. The connection that is made through collaboration with other humans. The artwork alchemy that transpires when pieces are produced by two or more people, the result of which would never have existed without the decision to work together. Allowing space for each other’s creativity to blossom. And within that space of freedom, also releasing something that is often held so close, so personal, and letting it become something else. Not better or worse, but something completely different and loving that too.