Monday, November 28, 2011

Water, Not Pure or Simple


The northeastern USA is anything but a cultural or ecological desert. There are so many choices of things to attend: concerts, lectures, exhibitions or actions!  Because I was attending a splendid performance by The American Ballet Theater up at Bard College in beautiful, lush New York state, I missed author Coleman Barks' reading from his latest translation, RUMI: THE BIG RED BOOK, at the D & R Greenway Land Trust in Princeton, New Jersey in early November.  I did manage to get my hands on a copy of this beautiful book though, and in fact got a surprise signed copy because of the thoughtfulness of friends there.  And what a signature it is!  That gesture contains the attitude of the book!  Now that the Thanksgiving festivities are over and my life is settling back into a routine (I'm being hopeful here), I have finally begun to read this book that has sat invitingly on the coffee table since early November.

The introduction of RUMI: THE BIG RED BOOK has already filled me with inspiration. You who read my blog know that I am always interested in consciousness and matters of the brain, and also water, both as metaphor and physical substance. In trying to describe what it is like to "be inside a Rumi poem" Barks quotes Plotinus' metaphor for the predicament of human consciousness: a net thrown into the sea.

"We are the net.  Soul is the ocean we are in, but we cannot hold on to it.  We cannot own any part of what we swim within, the mystery we love so.  Yet the longing we feel is there because of soul.  To some degree we are what we are longing for.  Some part of the ocean swims inside the fish."

Just think about how true this is.  A few years ago I attended the traveling exhibition, "Bodies", when it was in Philadelphia.  This extensive display of systems of the human body (skeletal, muscular, nervous, respiratory, digestive, urinary, reproductive, endocrine, and circulatory) showed how fluid living humans are.  Our bodies are composed of structures to hold, regulate, or ferry fluids around. We are the water we consume, the water we bathe and swim in.
THE FALLS, ©Joy Kreves '11, ceramic & wood.
Our veins and arteries are simply other versions of our earth's creeks and rivers.  This is why I rejoiced with so many other people last Monday, when a vote on whether to allow more fracking of the Delaware River Basin was postponed.  There is no way someone from a gas drilling company is going to convince me that pouring extremely toxic chemicals into the ground to extract natural gas beneath the rocks is a "safe" procedure, no matter how many pro-fracking ads they run on TV, as they are doing now.  People can consume all sorts of unhealthy substances for awhile, but inevitably those toxic substances will contribute to a state of disease or death.  They will infiltrate tissues and veins and organs that haven't evolved to tolerate them.  The earth's body has limit's too.  What goes around comes around; you are what you eat; what goes in must come out...etc. 

Those are just common sense sayings if one stops to notice that humans are actually part of the environment and not just existing on or off of it.  If one mistakenly thinks that God planted humans on the earth to take and take and take, then one would just think of the earth's water as another thing to use up or make a profit from instead of something whose purity and availability needs to be protected.  Those who see profits from gas drilling operations do not worry that fracking chemicals have and will inevitably continue to cause pollution of our water supplies. Mistakes happen, leaks happen, and there is no correction for the damage.  We are the water.  In fact, The Associated Press already reported on March 11, 2008, that our already treated drinking water is FULL of pharmaceutical drugs.  Our water is not pure.  But it is there, for most of us in the northeast.


Perhaps you haven't heard that the earth has a water shortage now.  The more than 7 billion people now living on the earth are using up the finite supply.  Vast areas of the earth including parts of the USA are turning into deserts - - over decades, not over millenia.  Industries of varying kinds need water to create some product so they build plants near lakes, rivers and streams.  Because they "create jobs", nobody makes them clean up after themselves. The body of water gets polluted, and the people who rely on that water for drinking and washing get sick from the pollutants.  Some die.  This is why people who care about having water are fighting fracking in our Delaware River basin.  Landowners with lakes on their property may be presented with offers for that water by corporations in much the same way that gas companies are buying (or taking) the mineral rights from landowners who now live in areas where they want to frack.

Who owns the earth?  Who owns the water?  "Some part of the ocean swims inside the fish."  Who owns the ocean that swims inside the fish?  Well, guess what?  Corporations own that ocean!  It is a fact that corporations like Nestle, Coca-Cola, The World Bank and American water companies are buying up water rights around the the country and the world now, because they see the earth's water crisis as a money-making opportunity.  The time has already come for some populations that they only have the water they can afford to buy back from the corporation.  Until someone saw this business opportunity, water was considered a free natural resource that everyone had a right to, not just those who could afford it. 

This is why last year's exhibit of "Festival of Trees" at the Morven Museum in Princeton, New Jersey upset me.  The museum was filled with many Christmas trees, each decorated by some local organization.  Christmas is another PR opportunity for the corporations who know that water on and in our earth is already disappearing at an unsustainable rate. The D & R Greenway Land Trust's tree celebrated untamed acres saved from development and the multitude of wildlife that lives on those acres.  The American Water Company had a tree there also.  The American Water Company's Christmas tree was simply a propaganda tree done to create positive feelings about a corporations that actually buy up municipal water systems and sell it back to the cities at a higher price after "treatment".  According to Judy Keen in a USA Today 4/21/2010 article,

"American Water, which operates in 35 states, is discussing deals with 75 municipalities and other entities -- the most in at least four years, CEO Don Correll says."  "Selling or leasing water systems isn't always a good deal, says Wenonah Hauter of Food & Water, a non-profit group.  Some cities that do so are 'mortgaging their future' by ceding control of a vital asset, she says, and rates often climb."

I grew up not far from Pekin, Illinois, whose water system was sold to Illinois American, part of American Water, in 1982.  The city manager at that time since said "Selling a water system to a private company is 'a terrible, terrible mistake'".

The American Water Company Christmas tree was decorated with their logo on plastic water bottles!  How lovely!  How environmentally friendly!  How infuriating!  An advertisement for this year's Christmas tree exhibit at The Morven brought back those feelings, especially since I had just watched a video of Maude Barlow, Chair of the Council of Canadians and of Food and Water Watch, who will speak at The Institute For Advanced Study in Princeton this Wednesday, Nov. 30th on  "The Global Water Crisis and the Coming Battle for the Right to Water.  As for the Morven's exhibit?  There are so many exhibits a fine museum could have, even around the Christmas theme. Why allow it to become a PR event for corporations?  Oh, ...perhaps the water company donates money to The Morven!  I forgot!  Art museums and entire exhibitions are bought up, too.

I think I'll go dive back into the inspirational waters of Rumi now to wash these toxic dealings out of my mind by reading verses of love.  Merry Christmas, Everyone!

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Overcoming The Autumn of Distractions

"Autumn" is a smooth word that conjures up images of postcard trees and cool days, a season that slides into the cold, snowy calm of winter.   The other name for this season, "Fall", is sometimes more fitting.  In "Fall", the environment is closing down and shedding all non-essentials.  In "Fall" the earth is busy cleaning house. Those leaves that were needed for spring and summer are discarded by wind and fierce rain.  Of course, just like when one begins to clean out a closet, the result is piles and more piles.  I'm not even talking about raked leaf piles; the leaves in my neighborhood are shed in such gargantuan quantities that they pile themselves all over the ground in a thick, messy carpet.  I crackle loudly as I try to slip quietly out to the mailbox without my dog noticing.  I develop an intense craving for clarity and order.
Whirlwind, ©JoyKreves
 Every year September finds me inspired for innumerable house, social, and art projects.  I am reading at least 10 books at a time, daydreaming of happy gatherings, holidays and family celebrations to come.  Then, by early November, I start to feel as if turning all those daydreams into real plans would be a burdensome project I might not be up to.  As the leaves mount and get dragged into the house with every entrance by person or dog, I begin to feel that I've lost my handle on things.  Fall is just too messy, too full.  The flurry of dry leaves is actually a perfect metaphor for my state of mind.  I am convinced that one's mind, one's body, and one's environment are integrally related.
Homesick Brain, ©JoyKreves'11
Scattered around outside are leaves and fallen branches, but scattered in the dining room are notes with possible Thanksgiving recipes to make, birthdays to remember to acknowledge (GOD, I know a lot of Scorpios), and postcards for events to attend.  There are phone numbers for friends to visit post-surgeries, and in the bedroom, piles of out of season clothes to put away.  There are two piles being assembled for donation, and another for holiday gifts.  In my studio are new artworks that haven't found exhibits or homes yet, and pieces of others that need finishing.  There are plants that had to be brought in from the colder nights but which I really  have no room for.  Around November I realize that I have accomplished very little of my plans.  Sometimes, I just feel distracted!
I'm So Distracted Today, ©JoyKreves
Several art shows are the core around which all the other stuff swirls:
 
Currently, I have work at the ArtTimesTwo Gallery, in a four-person exhibit curated by artist Madelaine Shellaby, "Interior Design:  The Brain and Spine in Art", now on view by appointment (http://www.arttimestwo.com) through March 2012.  The gallery is at The Princeton Brain and Spine Care Institute, 731 Alexander Rd, suite 200, Princeton, NJ.

My sculpture "Beautiful Life" is in an exhibit at the picturesque Hunterdon Museum of Art, 7 Lower Center St., Clinton, NJ, through January 7, 2012.
The Beautiful Life, ©JoyKreves'10
In December I will have a number of pieces at The D&R Greenway Land Trust gallery's "Textures & Trails" exhibit curated by Diana Moore, including some of my jewelry.
Essence of Bluejay, ©JoyKreves '08
I am especially excited about the opportunity to exhibit "Transported" there, my new mixed media piece there that incorporates some of the paper I made in the workshop with Judy Toby this past summer. 
Transported, ©JoyKreves'11
In JANUARY I'll be delivering three pieces to The George Segal Gallery at Montclair State University, 1 Normal Ave., Montclair, New Jersey, for the juried "Art Connections 8" show.
I'm also excited about completing a new three dimensional waterfall painting, out of acrylic and watercolor on ceramic and wood.  I have too many other ideas cooking to keep track of.

You just cannot stop the onslaught of swirling leaves, and you cannot stop the myriad of exquisite activities and concerts beckoning your attention.  You must not stop your creative flow, either, even as you turn off those outside faucets for the winter.  You've got to keep creating, or at least refining, as the trees poke their newly bare twigs into the uncluttered air of late autumn.  You've got to get a handle on the coming winter.

Today I visited a friend with a great tale of mind/body connectedness.  A poet, she hadn't been able to write for a long time, due to her muse being blocked by pain.  She needed surgery, which she had a couple of days ago.  Well she wrote not one, but five poems while in the hospital!  Uncorked by the diminished pain, her muse flew back into action in spite of the less than inspiring hospital environment.  It was a wonderful thing for me to see her whole being rejoicing in the return of the creative spirit which is her core.  Now mid-November, my muse seems to be just starting to settle into sharper focus, where I hope she'll stay through the winter holidays and breaks, to give me a handle on the coming winter.  I'm reaching for her fingers in the clearing air of late autumn. 

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