tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1565900178023346232024-03-15T18:09:36.048-07:00Emily van Lidth de JeudeEmily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.comBlogger57125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-42478291886375992522024-03-12T22:04:00.000-07:002024-03-12T22:04:07.987-07:00Playgrounds, Gaza, and a Forest: How Competition Impedes Prosperity<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7_4-zuX_zKjB5BPQU8SqQrb5x74usl8iFP85t06Sy1KGFI-A8c_KULF-vJiai0ykZG5d6IReUFc0LCIlLCxu1BwEwR1o21SzljJqW7_i36mxkv8Faw0JqWrCPscMazeeJKlRWw5R78c0pkk5T_9JEDNmpQ8kOricE16nJ56dG1rV3SRAz3AMjbxbNXQ/s3180/20130908_tali%20rhiannon%20ceperley%20playground_15c.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2461" data-original-width="3180" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7_4-zuX_zKjB5BPQU8SqQrb5x74usl8iFP85t06Sy1KGFI-A8c_KULF-vJiai0ykZG5d6IReUFc0LCIlLCxu1BwEwR1o21SzljJqW7_i36mxkv8Faw0JqWrCPscMazeeJKlRWw5R78c0pkk5T_9JEDNmpQ8kOricE16nJ56dG1rV3SRAz3AMjbxbNXQ/w400-h310/20130908_tali%20rhiannon%20ceperley%20playground_15c.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>One
damp autumn day, I crossed the dirt and wood-chip playground to the
swings, where I saw a girl a couple of years younger than I was, and
also the bottom of her grade's social heap, swinging on the best
swing. You know the <i>best</i> swing? It's the one that is for some
reason not spun up out of reach by the older kids, and the most
visible to the playground supervisor, so other kids don't bother
trying to haul you out of it. During those years, I spent all
recesses and lunch hours either hiding on the bluffs, up in a tree,
or firmly glued to that swing and swinging fiercely back-and-forth,
back-and-forth, daring people to come near me with a glare they never
noticed. But this day, this younger girl's thick brown hair flew
back-and-forth, back-and-forth over her raincoated shoulders. I stood
at the pole of the swing-set and ground my boots into the dirt. When
nobody was looking, I told her passing face that I was magic and
would turn her into a rock if she didn't get off and give me the
swing.<p></p>
<p>When I was a kid I was near the bottom of the social heap. The
kids who hurt me the most were also hurt the most by their parents,
or by other kids at the school. It's normalized, in our culture, to
turn and dish out to someone else a cruelty that was served to us.
School, career-building, politics, capitalism--they're all just games
of getting ahead of others, and put us in a position where we feel
that "getting ahead" is the same as "prosperity".
It's an illusion, but our longstanding capitalist social structure
leads us to believe in it at the cost of vision and community. </p>
<p>Israel is flexing its playground seniority in Gaza. It feels
heartless to compare genocide to playground bullying, but I want to
point out that in accepting what we see as insignificant cruelty in
our privileged day-to-day as a necessary cost of getting ahead, we
also pave the way to accept greater and greater atrocities. I
understand from my playground experience how easy it feels to commit
some lesser act of cruelty against another person when I've been
hurt. So by extrapolation, I get that maybe if your people has been
persecuted for thousands of years, and even in living memory was the
pointed victim of horrific acts of genocide, it might seem less than
horrible for (some members) of that people to commit genocide against
the next victim down the chain. I mean, aren't we all just making
gains by stepping up upon the backs of those just below us in rank,
privilege, or esteem? <br />
<br />
Well no--not everybody is doing
that. Some of us from every race, religion, and social ranking in the
world are in fact trying very hard not to be that kind of monster.
Some of those in my circles who are most vocally supporting freedom
for Palestinians are my Jewish friends. Because fighting to get or
stay on top of a social pyramid does <i>not</i> equal prosperity!
Because some of us learned this important lesson in childhood. </p>
<p>Back in my elementary school playground... I have never forgotten
the look of horror on that girl's face, and my triumph at seeing her
run away, so I could get to safety on that swing. My triumph was
the worst. I remember the sick feeling in my stomach, after she left.
I didn't know where she had run to, or who might be kicking her,
feeding her dirt, or holding her down and whispering the most vile
threats in her ears. I remember thinking we looked rather similar and
maybe she could have been my friend if I hadn't been so desperate to
get that swing. I felt that getting the swing gave me safety, but it
also took away hers. I remember that my triumph came with a horrible
cost to my feeling of righteousness, and that year I became one of
those people who knows better than to pass the bullying on to the
next rung down the ladder. Sometime after that I bravely spoke a few
words to my bullied-mate in the classroom. We had a breath-holding
competition. So for a couple of minutes we found common ground
in an environment of terror and ladder-climbing, and I think in some
small way we both learned to transcend the hierarchy of our class.</p>
<p>We can ALL learn from our mistakes. We can all look at our leaders
and our cultural and personal privileges and refuse to make progress
at the cost of others. Sure, we're trying to survive in what is, at
its root, a culture of competition, and to some degree we have to
participate in the status quo to survive. But we can also work to
change it. Those of us with more privilege have more ability to
effect change. We can change the ways we look at others; we can
choose to befriend the people who make less money than we do, the
people whose lashes lower when we speak to them; the people who seem
least likely to improve our social status. We can look critically at
our privilege and resources and belongings and ask ourselves what we
actually need, and how we can change our lives and share the excess
to achieve a social balance in our community. We can remind ourselves
that a balanced community means prosperity for all. </p>
<p>Does prosperity mean a lack of suffering? Of course not. We're all
going to die. We're all going to hurt. We're all going to lose loved
ones, and health, and hope. But a balanced community is exactly the
only thing that will sustain us through these challenges. And we can
look to the ecology just outside our city limits for inspiration in
achieving prosperity through social balance. </p>
<p>A tree in a forest. If a maple drops ten thousand seeds on the
forest floor, all but a few hundred of those are likely to be eaten
by insects, rodents and birds before they ever sprout, and of those
that do sprout, most will be eaten as spring greens by the likes of
deer, and others. And maybe five will grow to be saplings, and maybe
zero will live to become trees, most years. Until one day the mother
tree has crumbled under the weight of some winter snow and in the
mess of her fallen limbs, one of last year's saplings will grow
sheltered and become a tree, itself. But you know what? In all those
years where not a single one of those seeds grew to maturity, that
original tree fed the ecosystem around her, and reached her roots
through the landscape to share nutrients with the neighbouring trees.
All the other plants and animals' droppings and dead bodies fed the
soil, and now that soil is rich with microbial life and nutrients,
and that new maple tree will grow strong--not on the backs of all
those it conquered, but in an ecology of giving and dying and
growing. The maple tree has no fear of falling behind. She is a
sanctuary for mosses, ferns and all kinds of insect, microbial and
animal life--she is <i>part of</i> that life. She's just growing and
giving and crumbling and feeding her ecology. And that is why she
prospers. I want to learn some of that wisdom.</p>
<p>What if there was no fear of falling behind in human society?
Would we carry, feed, and connect with each other; with our ecology?
Would we relish those connections instead of conquering others? I
feel like I've experienced this when I sing in community. When my own
voice drowns away among the voices of others, but together we're a
beautiful sound. I experience it when I play with children in the
wilderness. We're each so insignificant in the big forest, but our
play changes the landscape and we see the impact of our being there;
we learn to play carefully. We learn that if we destroy the
stream-bank, then the water downstream will be muddy, and then we'll
have no clean water for drinking, anywhere. We learn that affecting
anything (anybody) will have impacts on ourselves.</p>
<p>If my life depends on privilege gained through competition, and
supported by people who aren't being supported by me, then when those
people's lives falter, so do I. We can't build a pyramid to stand on,
then rip out the stability of the base, and expect to keep standing
on the top.</p>
<p>And from another perspective, when we've prospered exponentially
at the cost of the ecosystem that supports us without honouring it,
giving back to it, and living in harmony with it, the ecology we
depend on is faltering underneath our ridiculous pyramid, and we're
all beginning to discover what happens, then.</p>
<p>Our system of pyramid-climbing is not a strong one. A strong
system is lateral. Like a forest, or a group of people singing. A
strong system loses a limb and regrows to heal the wound. A
strong system has no leaders, but many trusted and equal members, all
giving instead of taking. Giving is not sacrifice, it's prosperity.</p>
<p>It's scary to think of not having enough (food, money, land,
power, achievement, influence, etc.) In a hierarchical culture, "not
enough" equals failure, threat; fear. For those near the bottom
of the cultural pyramid in my community it means no shelter; no food.
For those on the bottom in Gaza it means abject trauma every day. It
means death. Is this an acceptable cost for my "getting ahead"?
I don't want this kind of unstable throne. I don't want to support a
global society that prospers on hierarchical oppression, because in
that kind of culture, everybody is a potential pawn, or enemy.
Everybody is unstable. </p>
<p>I want to transcend capitalism and find joy in uplifting others
instead of uplifting myself at a cost to others. I want to stop
prospering as an individual, and when I fall, I want to fall down in
community, knowing that others will grow into my wounds. I want to be
worth more than what I own or who bends under my feet. In a lateral
community I will be worth the whole of us. I want the mirage of
hierarchy to disappear and I want us all to be free.</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;">Free Palestine.</p>
Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-30277031936456360982024-01-11T13:13:00.000-08:002024-02-06T09:36:16.725-08:00Participate in a Long Covid Awareness Project!<p></p><div dir="auto"><div class="x1iorvi4 x1pi30zi x1l90r2v x1swvt13" data-ad-comet-preview="message" data-ad-preview="message" id=":r2a0:"><div class="x78zum5 xdt5ytf xz62fqu x16ldp7u"><div class="xu06os2 x1ok221b"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto"><div class="xdj266r x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs x126k92a"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><b>CALLING PEOPLE WITH LONG-COVID:</b></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">I'm looking for self-contributed photos of people who have or have had Long-Covid. </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">I live with Long-Covid myself, and am currently working on a Long-Covid art piece, which will be performed and displayed at the Art Vancouver fair in April, 2024, and likely more places, after that. The piece will be part of my (dis)robe series, and titled Hospital Gown. It will be a wearable art piece made of a hospital gown and hospital blanket, and including a train Long-Covid symptoms and research findings over a gown of the faces of Long-Covid! I will need at least a few hundred faces of the millions currently affected in order to make a solid statement. The purpose here is to increase visibility for this issue, as well as for the many who are affected. Hopefully through awareness we'll also get more research.</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Edited to add: The 200+ people who have already sent their selfies for this project have humbled me. I've had personal conversations with over a hundred of them; have shared stories of symptoms, of ups and downs and hopes and despair. We've talked about some of the things that are helping us persevere, and of who we were before all this. The images I'm collecting cover a range of experience from pre-covid wellness to the depths of illness. There are masked, gowned and tubed people, and smiling faces in work and athletic gear. This experience has been personally very motivating for me. It's easy when, like me, we've been sick for 4+ years, to forget our humanity and to accept the social perception that we're just a bunch of sick people. This project is reminding me that before this we were active contributing members of society. We want that back. This is why raising awareness matters.<br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofxtd4GEJ9iWfXdfqZnFFC38Ukyz9PLxhb2pOjyT4gNJiMAY2ZoU7-XPqMqcse31mzj8awW_Ug-JJI5c8OmKrOn_lr9-O1MZQvS5d1KlmtvjJF493i-5i4hxvRvaiU0w1Ioz4MTamaSxwJTQzOT_Db0uTrE-AAc4-G07b0oJ8dSZu8e9Bw2mqfnntd5g/s2883/(dis)robe_hospital%20gown%20plan%202.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="2883" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofxtd4GEJ9iWfXdfqZnFFC38Ukyz9PLxhb2pOjyT4gNJiMAY2ZoU7-XPqMqcse31mzj8awW_Ug-JJI5c8OmKrOn_lr9-O1MZQvS5d1KlmtvjJF493i-5i4hxvRvaiU0w1Ioz4MTamaSxwJTQzOT_Db0uTrE-AAc4-G07b0oJ8dSZu8e9Bw2mqfnntd5g/w640-h500/(dis)robe_hospital%20gown%20plan%202.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Current concept drawing for (dis)robe: Hospital Gown, Jan 25, 2024</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">In April 2023 <a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC9839201/">the National Library of Medicine published</a> that "at least 65 million individuals worldwide are estimated to have long COVID, with cases increasing daily." This gown will be a part of sharing that story with the public. <br /><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlLhp83gcN_mzpW4Mln_9FWagBo5zPvUu0xiK6VJZvl8eiBcTvwvityd7Yz9p842_7LQWqPSc0TjXhaj-_tXN53NS0boY5H8U7yFw293gIzVNxOpEGXVQdMSRIn_nhd3itybxiYQb_R_Q51BUFESJ1y3IShhkn_D0LYwSh3HDAGksjujxuWHHeJsdb6mE/s4000/Hospital%20Gown%20Faces%20first%2072%20faces%20promo.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlLhp83gcN_mzpW4Mln_9FWagBo5zPvUu0xiK6VJZvl8eiBcTvwvityd7Yz9p842_7LQWqPSc0TjXhaj-_tXN53NS0boY5H8U7yFw293gIzVNxOpEGXVQdMSRIn_nhd3itybxiYQb_R_Q51BUFESJ1y3IShhkn_D0LYwSh3HDAGksjujxuWHHeJsdb6mE/w640-h360/Hospital%20Gown%20Faces%20first%2072%20faces%20promo.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto"><i>Huge gratitude for these first 72 faces that will become a part of the upcoming project! I now have nearly 200 contributed faces, and hope to finish with 300.<br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><b>IF YOU HAVE OR HAD LONG COVID AND WANT TO <span></span>PARTICIPATE:</b></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Just send me a photo of your face--any photo you like (although face must be visible). That's it!<br />You can Instagram DM <a href="https://www.instagram.com/emilyvanartist/" target="_blank">@emilyvanartist</a> or send in an email to <a href="mailto: emilyvanartist@gmail.com" target="_blank">emilyvanartist at gmail dot com</a>.<br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Yes it will be anonymous! Even if I see your name when you send me the photo, it will be printed without a name and added anonymously to the gown.</div></div><div class="x11i5rnm xat24cr x1mh8g0r x1vvkbs xtlvy1s x126k92a"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">I would also very much appreciate this post being shared, as I hope to get at least a few hundred photos on this art-piece. Thank you!</div></div></span></div></div></div></div>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-30755821780216593932024-01-11T09:17:00.000-08:002024-01-11T09:17:08.738-08:00New Year New Projects!<p>WOW it's been a year!!!<br />If you follow this blog or my <a href="https://www.instagram.com/emilyvanartist/" target="_blank">Instagram feed</a>, you already know I was lucky enough to install three shows this year, all with the gracious help of my partner Markus, and one with my first project grant from the <a href="https://canadacouncil.ca/" target="_blank">Canada Council for the Arts</a>. I also hold enormous gratitude for the <a href="https://thehearthartsonbowen.ca/" target="_blank">Hearth Gallery</a> and the <a href="https://gpag.ca/" target="_blank">Gibsons Public Art Gallery</a> for hosting these shows, and to the huge number of supporters I'm beginning to realize I have for not only showing up at the openings and to take in the shows, but also for buying quite a few of my paintings to bring home. Because of this support I was able to donate over $1400 this year to support the <a href="https://bowenislandconservancy.org/our-work/" target="_blank">Bowen Island Conservancy</a>, an organization that works hard to advocate for and preserve wilderness around my home. It feels humbling, in the way my wedding did, nearly 25 years ago now, when I looked out of the window and saw the guests gathering, and realized that these people cared about me. It's very deeply personal, and in the case of my art, it means I'm able to make an impact in protecting and educating about the things that are important to me. And this is huge.<br /></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1921CCfhaEp3jr79Prm5h0fGbfhu8OKk8Wly2WBTU5ZG54Gj7pN0xw9xphbHqUI75g1HrY_rnls9Eg51Gxewlmj3jL0ytKqncrOP3iXUdfmMfqIDgfX0HY7LWXlC-nEQkNPLr2XcidVQ_KNgGWs3ONGK0yusSOu4DoLN0HRVq3fy74YOdWtOMe7JS2IU/s3742/20230829_emily%20van%20Lidth%20de%20Jeude%20in%20studio%20portrait%20by%20Markus%20Roemer.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3293" data-original-width="3742" height="565" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1921CCfhaEp3jr79Prm5h0fGbfhu8OKk8Wly2WBTU5ZG54Gj7pN0xw9xphbHqUI75g1HrY_rnls9Eg51Gxewlmj3jL0ytKqncrOP3iXUdfmMfqIDgfX0HY7LWXlC-nEQkNPLr2XcidVQ_KNgGWs3ONGK0yusSOu4DoLN0HRVq3fy74YOdWtOMe7JS2IU/w640-h565/20230829_emily%20van%20Lidth%20de%20Jeude%20in%20studio%20portrait%20by%20Markus%20Roemer.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>In my studio working on paintings about the Shuswap fires.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />As I sit here contemplating the year, the things that stand out are even more personal. My kids moved out last January and are now paying their own way in the city, some friends lost their homes in the raging wildfires we had this year, we lost a few loved ones both in my family and the community, and I'm FINALLY beginning to recover some of my ability after 3.5 years of living with long covid. Interesting, because 3.5 also happens to be the number of MILLIONS of Canadians who have or have had long covid, as of <a href="https://www150.statcan.gc.ca/n1/pub/75-006-x/2023001/article/00015-eng.htm" target="_blank">StatsCan's December 2024 publication</a>.</p><p>So this leads to my next project: Hospital Gown. <br />This wearable art piece will be part of the (dis)robe series, and will be made from donated used hospital gowns and blanket, along with an ever-growing collection of photos of Canadians currently living with long-covid. Again I am humbled by so many people putting their trust in me as an artist to bring their faces into the wider community. The gown is barely started, but has already been invited to the Art Vancouver fair in April. I'll wear it to the opening event, there, whereafter it will be displayed along with other gowns from the collection. I still encounter quite a bit of misinformation and disbelief about long-covid, especially because those of us with autoimmune disease are so invisible. Either we're hidden away with our illness or we're out in public trying our damndest to look healthy. So it means a lot to me to have this opportunity to bring the faces of so many invisible sufferers out into the world.<br /></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-58760030307516962632023-11-20T16:44:00.000-08:002023-11-20T16:44:02.399-08:00New video of w h a t . h o m e installation<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/RqJPWFjZxvo" width="320" youtube-src-id="RqJPWFjZxvo"></iframe></div><br /><p></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-2667498097942810872023-10-23T11:34:00.000-07:002023-10-23T11:34:08.754-07:00w h a t . h o m e coming to Nex̱wlélex̱wem/Bowen Island November 10<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnd6Vhr1-FhpnAafvUG0oMlmu82nACt7xSDqLnqyY4Pe_aCQbKgroIXFzaHGEEuEqngQpcZ4BBmhy04wg65_oEBS3PZu7TTAJvxkzCWEMC_w4-U21-0FGGZWqyY37WR9pyDJHZ74AezPJyO9yTFbP0pwCiCrbVPyVGyQIfHyJS0TfInQaPH7QCvsKEZ9U/s4922/whathome%20promo%20hearth%202023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3094" data-original-width="4922" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnd6Vhr1-FhpnAafvUG0oMlmu82nACt7xSDqLnqyY4Pe_aCQbKgroIXFzaHGEEuEqngQpcZ4BBmhy04wg65_oEBS3PZu7TTAJvxkzCWEMC_w4-U21-0FGGZWqyY37WR9pyDJHZ74AezPJyO9yTFbP0pwCiCrbVPyVGyQIfHyJS0TfInQaPH7QCvsKEZ9U/w640-h402/whathome%20promo%20hearth%202023.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />I'm SO excited to finally be installing this immersive show in the community where it began. The first person to volunteer was my father. The next was my brother, and from there my video documentation of people talking about their experiences of home, belonging, and community spread into the wider community, and eventually to the mainland and Vancouver Island. What a massive learning process this was for me!! Not only the technical side of developing ways to intersect stories and landscapes by film, projection, and fabric, but learning to ask questions that promote the sharing of stories we don't often tell. I made many friends while interviewing for this work. And in an extreme stroke of luck I got to develop and exhibit the first iteration of it in Amsterdam! Which was odd, since all of the protagonists of the work are living in Western Canada. But the Dutch audience responded with passion, causing me to realize that it doesn't really matter where we live; feelings of belonging and community are essential to humanness. <p></p><p>So here comes w h a t . h o m e to Nex̱wlélex̱wem/Bowen Island!! It's opening on my birthday, so I'm making some wild (local) needle teas and cookies to share. I hope you'll come. </p><p>Lots of further links and info about this show are on the <a href="https://emilyvanlidth.blogspot.com/p/gallery-w-h-t-h-o-m-e.html">w h a t . h o m e page</a>, but here's the essential info:</p><h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000; font-size: x-large;">w h a t . h o m e
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<div><div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #660000;">The importance of place, community and belonging in our increasingly globalized world</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;"><b>The Hearth Gallery</b></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="color: #0b5394;">430 Bowen Island Trunk Rd.<br /> Bowen Island, BC <br /><i>(a 20-minute ferry ride from West Vancouver, and a 1- to 2-minute walk from the dock)</i></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><span>Nov 10 – Nov 25, 2023 </span></b></span><br />Wednesdays – Mondays, 11am-5pm <br /><br /> Evenings for this show only:<br /> 5-8pm, Nov. 11, 17, 18, 24 and 25th <br /><br />Opening event: November 10, 6-8pm</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d;"> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d;">Oh yeah... and those forest paintings from the next post below will be on display during this show, as well. 😊 </span><br /></div></div></div></div><p></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-28518572010938450082023-10-23T11:04:00.002-07:002023-10-23T11:10:42.503-07:00What's for Sale this Holiday Season!<p>It's holiday shopping time, which for me means it's almost my birthday... and that is when I finally get to discover what my partner bought for me at the Gibson's Public Art Gallery a few months ago!!! Woohooooo!!! I love supporting other artists, and I love when people support them in my honour. 🧡 So increasingly I'm realizing that my art is also a commodity, and of course I love to be supported in what I do! </p><p>People ask me what's for sale. Well... pretty much everything's "for sale", except my soul -- hahaha! But maybe you'd like a list of what's popular. I happily oblige. Here's a selection of things of various prices, to hopefully inspire your gift-giving, or just to fill your own home with some love and thought-provoking interest.</p><p><b><span style="font-size: medium;">To Purchase:</span></b> Please contact me at <a href="mailto:emilyvanartist@gmail.com">emilyvanartist at gmail dot com</a> to arrange for e-transfer (or cash) and pick up or shipping! Of course, if you'd like to visit the studio and see these works in person before purchasing, that's always an option. Email me to arrange!<br /></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Forests</b></span> - these are so fresh that you can't pick up until late November, when the paint's cured, and they're finished their residence at the Hearth Gallery, on Nex̱wlélex̱wem/Bowen Island. They're also so popular that one of them sold before I finished it (yikes--scary for me as an artist, but also super exciting, as I finished it specifically for the person who bought it!)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPI93Qxl3OlZ_5k7q-OC0xTNWoE2xlQWPWkh1LI-G7NT61-J9JCoFGIFQZmvKlS-j5MocYeSlcjXmpW_IpwbJmZ03yY46cxuVV2HlFiI35yCZ6KuxKIS10j5yJY37zcXXrmDCYqlUDQj5fVGt5AcCxBHKSbC7NeDEj1jVfuJYGzIjfyKZsZ0lvQ6cTmac/s8028/2%20forests%2012x36inches.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="8028" data-original-width="5500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPI93Qxl3OlZ_5k7q-OC0xTNWoE2xlQWPWkh1LI-G7NT61-J9JCoFGIFQZmvKlS-j5MocYeSlcjXmpW_IpwbJmZ03yY46cxuVV2HlFiI35yCZ6KuxKIS10j5yJY37zcXXrmDCYqlUDQj5fVGt5AcCxBHKSbC7NeDEj1jVfuJYGzIjfyKZsZ0lvQ6cTmac/w274-h400/2%20forests%2012x36inches.jpg" width="274" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Left: "Cedars Dancing in the Autumn", 12x36 inches, $632 CAD<br />Right: Licorice Ferns Embracing Cooler Weather", 12x36 inches, $632 CAD</i></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRS28YjtLLmlP4EJsCW_ofPVDINtlnF4cv66baYy2ageNqhJ3D9_m1LA0kulwxIbCutr99p92F2yAfmCQxkpkf9_ixHq14hZvhFaZwTZxzmkh9eJUhpkVpSn3K9fNcwDNYntU5o9FLlfvY-dHMHbDVZr_8hhrffa9LS5G2VUTdgVvvTzEU4q5LrKgBCj8/s6000/IMG_20231022_154602931_HDR~2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6000" data-original-width="1500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRS28YjtLLmlP4EJsCW_ofPVDINtlnF4cv66baYy2ageNqhJ3D9_m1LA0kulwxIbCutr99p92F2yAfmCQxkpkf9_ixHq14hZvhFaZwTZxzmkh9eJUhpkVpSn3K9fNcwDNYntU5o9FLlfvY-dHMHbDVZr_8hhrffa9LS5G2VUTdgVvvTzEU4q5LrKgBCj8/w160-h640/IMG_20231022_154602931_HDR~2.jpg" width="160" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Late September Catching Wind off the Sea"<br />18x72 inches, $1496 CAD</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmsQ5zkRDeWt8fjnpxkwvE9Xw9OjmFpD0We2FgA3kSYhU4VNXNEqm3GUuz5PT4smt3GhNHtTtm_wh2ajjmFMKgd4XV75e6N3yh23uMljH2txFw3vRe-Ul07Zg0Gyy1hLdOwEZe6KxXI18UNUZXbmcxDjC1LmvJ8UW_NvvQHMOWzlyHlGlCNmCxigRaRX8/s10000/4%20forests%204x12%20inches.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6013" data-original-width="10000" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmsQ5zkRDeWt8fjnpxkwvE9Xw9OjmFpD0We2FgA3kSYhU4VNXNEqm3GUuz5PT4smt3GhNHtTtm_wh2ajjmFMKgd4XV75e6N3yh23uMljH2txFw3vRe-Ul07Zg0Gyy1hLdOwEZe6KxXI18UNUZXbmcxDjC1LmvJ8UW_NvvQHMOWzlyHlGlCNmCxigRaRX8/w640-h384/4%20forests%204x12%20inches.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Each of these is 4x12 inches; $248 CAD<br />Titles, left to right: "Cedars in September", "Licorice Ferns in September", "Dancing Trees", "Licorice Ferns on Fallen Maple".</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Change/Able</b></span> - these are rearrangeable paintings. The concept is that you can change the art on your walls whenever you like; rearrange, reconfigure, or just turn a piece. Make your own art from a set of hand-painted unique tiles. It's like psychological growth: nobody else is working with the exact set of experiences we are as individuals, and we can experiment and direct our own growth, every day. The smallest ones come on a panel so they're very easy to hang (like a regular wired painting), but the larger ones come with hanging instructions, so you can blend them gorgeously with your own wall. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh86KpvSR1ZYucMM4H0vn7LSN8KNK_hfF9_YGhbo4wFR6iOhagWxkRntvigyRPKSm8TwzZ-RYGD60fS4L4q1x1IwlmcBhpoucDpPAqv2xz_DH-U6AD248qNuKJaUCwYdGJgYrzVimBgZCx58z8jnYERp6e3QNMXTAqNYchaQLrVrEkpGNkrtvUYXe9481g/s1200/26685542_2018651358405790_7077506674141317385_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="449" data-original-width="1200" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh86KpvSR1ZYucMM4H0vn7LSN8KNK_hfF9_YGhbo4wFR6iOhagWxkRntvigyRPKSm8TwzZ-RYGD60fS4L4q1x1IwlmcBhpoucDpPAqv2xz_DH-U6AD248qNuKJaUCwYdGJgYrzVimBgZCx58z8jnYERp6e3QNMXTAqNYchaQLrVrEkpGNkrtvUYXe9481g/w640-h240/26685542_2018651358405790_7077506674141317385_o.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Wash Away the Rain", 7 canvases 4x12 inches each, $760 CAD</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgII2vmgE07jDurjxfhQcuaGwSxisWkQeSk6idfdiV4Rm53f4xZGinv9J8ls2a4niAPC-YxsZP1W5HKq0cYO6XgXFDu6nEXAoTOBCvNHDyU5vnE6G9oxbYnrFLev1mNjWedC5l_Tstxrq19Z46pbbUTD-bnUbN8i5BR8dQ8MSOzQvqD6axIYusi8hh9VH4/s816/devils%20dream.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="816" height="628" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgII2vmgE07jDurjxfhQcuaGwSxisWkQeSk6idfdiV4Rm53f4xZGinv9J8ls2a4niAPC-YxsZP1W5HKq0cYO6XgXFDu6nEXAoTOBCvNHDyU5vnE6G9oxbYnrFLev1mNjWedC5l_Tstxrq19Z46pbbUTD-bnUbN8i5BR8dQ8MSOzQvqD6axIYusi8hh9VH4/w640-h628/devils%20dream.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Devil's Dream", 13 canvases, 3x3 inches each, $317 CAD</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeEFz0lDUbd0JIY0kmvsqpQvl5sZ81g1aSjI-0W5TNxEpCHTd2TuLJ-wvy15RkYGTGTGNNweNH6ZKpd_F-P-ANN6YbGhTyibElJ0qB3DdO84Rhh29dNd2mqujdnkQ70ni1f0ZvROH2Isfnt68K9McvhDAZ7xRwAGgQO4q5OL6AF6RRx7RvTGgD0fagQ5Q/s800/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_change-your-own-adventure_Fingals-Cave_2018_13x3x3__small.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeEFz0lDUbd0JIY0kmvsqpQvl5sZ81g1aSjI-0W5TNxEpCHTd2TuLJ-wvy15RkYGTGTGNNweNH6ZKpd_F-P-ANN6YbGhTyibElJ0qB3DdO84Rhh29dNd2mqujdnkQ70ni1f0ZvROH2Isfnt68K9McvhDAZ7xRwAGgQO4q5OL6AF6RRx7RvTGgD0fagQ5Q/w640-h640/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_change-your-own-adventure_Fingals-Cave_2018_13x3x3__small.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Fingal's Cave", 13 canvases, 3x3 inches each, $317 CAD</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwfLy3fb-59B90r8LucNUPxE37p6Su1umA8qQ-iHO5JTwi9U25Mo4Zt-4JZ0dwuU4Jk2KpDWBQkMQaUJzfqEPYOFi8DVkWfpGuTUhgctMNh9J8fFitUON9taakYs50w6VnHsosqG8TsNbct50w114EhZct6I7fSv0yCx2bj_dg530_QqUDixg73xedSzY/s805/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_change-your-own-adventure_Invasive-Family-Tree_2018_24x6x6__small.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="805" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwfLy3fb-59B90r8LucNUPxE37p6Su1umA8qQ-iHO5JTwi9U25Mo4Zt-4JZ0dwuU4Jk2KpDWBQkMQaUJzfqEPYOFi8DVkWfpGuTUhgctMNh9J8fFitUON9taakYs50w6VnHsosqG8TsNbct50w114EhZct6I7fSv0yCx2bj_dg530_QqUDixg73xedSzY/w636-h640/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_change-your-own-adventure_Invasive-Family-Tree_2018_24x6x6__small.jpg" width="636" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Invasive Family Tree", 24 canvases, 6x6 inches each, $1640 CAD</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWjYnTrg6RqDxYRvMbJYo4EMIXeBleQMudfTaJxVeTzGuA3NR9vyt29c40rPx5DUuNDoe8je4k_wC0slyX6GEVzowkuySFsHT7tqYOVZsEy1_l6jEk7qgYEznw0Oz3hxxFnyHQJGCHzdcTpJ2bO2rd57u8fEXmi75UGvo1J_N9N_tNL4KGQuliP7Ezb4k/s809/mayflies.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="809" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWjYnTrg6RqDxYRvMbJYo4EMIXeBleQMudfTaJxVeTzGuA3NR9vyt29c40rPx5DUuNDoe8je4k_wC0slyX6GEVzowkuySFsHT7tqYOVZsEy1_l6jEk7qgYEznw0Oz3hxxFnyHQJGCHzdcTpJ2bO2rd57u8fEXmi75UGvo1J_N9N_tNL4KGQuliP7Ezb4k/w632-h640/mayflies.png" width="632" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Mayflies", 9 canvases, 4x4 inches each, $488 CAD</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3yE8JSaOZIUQDKFthgJqbC3grY-vdcNyXpkV5v9WvJK0PEwyDHYkYM0ZPA5gxaZpKP9fm-fMumYvyb4pRds1vzJj14KuGDNeFZVy9-wNsZNoWMba1khLeuhIxFiPry_7k993MLznv1Cdi1WZD00Nk_qdNKEsyWP8gAjkgcT163p8dvcDyZbnHsX3RwGI/s1209/the%20instability%20of%20memory.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1209" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3yE8JSaOZIUQDKFthgJqbC3grY-vdcNyXpkV5v9WvJK0PEwyDHYkYM0ZPA5gxaZpKP9fm-fMumYvyb4pRds1vzJj14KuGDNeFZVy9-wNsZNoWMba1khLeuhIxFiPry_7k993MLznv1Cdi1WZD00Nk_qdNKEsyWP8gAjkgcT163p8dvcDyZbnHsX3RwGI/w636-h640/the%20instability%20of%20memory.jpg" width="636" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"The Instability of Memory", 16 canvases, 10x10 inches each, $2440 CAD</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9uAMZscseKqIwiQ-5Hxactw2buedx-74ax7LTkwotCXmtJ77ET36oZONLqz7mj3BfCh-nxVOGmOwVZzeGYVbekXGLq4FmTjw8c6xiaReIvynOBn0pqw5TU1QanO_A42BUu9oeLdSDAXqMjp6uZ582qvpcHU5Zflk-et68xh8Udhs9MkMz05vjCMf7BPk/s2048/universe%20inside%20me.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1462" data-original-width="2048" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9uAMZscseKqIwiQ-5Hxactw2buedx-74ax7LTkwotCXmtJ77ET36oZONLqz7mj3BfCh-nxVOGmOwVZzeGYVbekXGLq4FmTjw8c6xiaReIvynOBn0pqw5TU1QanO_A42BUu9oeLdSDAXqMjp6uZ582qvpcHU5Zflk-et68xh8Udhs9MkMz05vjCMf7BPk/w640-h456/universe%20inside%20me.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"A Universe Inside Me", 18 canvases, 4x4 inches each, mounted on panel 30x24 inches, $776 CAD</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Abstracts</b></span> - some of these are painted to a particular song, the lyrics of which inform the title. These are my visual/emotional interpretation of the stories in the songs. Others are my interpretation of a feeling.<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEjvFB_t-pVjAZ9ZFmjfr7ou2SDr7ytNfCYjJfd2J-T-6Eee0-vA5ccwAVvyfcx8Kv3ji2Sy9A9Xf02ufvGV64mP9ZCXoqyHKiK1ahL3IKoI70NqStgdGXyaJHbP1FESGSUjiGwRqBrbb2TcrfmjNaY6E0oy19j6DRqHOyoq7SUT0UA0o9PNKTtAsFZfw/s400/11216842_1610894499181480_6078574616682259012_n.png" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="198" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEjvFB_t-pVjAZ9ZFmjfr7ou2SDr7ytNfCYjJfd2J-T-6Eee0-vA5ccwAVvyfcx8Kv3ji2Sy9A9Xf02ufvGV64mP9ZCXoqyHKiK1ahL3IKoI70NqStgdGXyaJHbP1FESGSUjiGwRqBrbb2TcrfmjNaY6E0oy19j6DRqHOyoq7SUT0UA0o9PNKTtAsFZfw/w316-h640/11216842_1610894499181480_6078574616682259012_n.png" width="316" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Tree of Life 2", 15x30 inches, $650 CAD</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFtRenQKaLChYOwovI71NNYzgQjowV5nyYuTz5OSvlHpOUa8rGup2624P3L2fLOAYA1f5_5hlC0mzszHjSJW9-6GYGhyphenhyphengYuxOF0N-8scxuiHrP3_C1VS6jdLFTkapapZrOavP1oImj3QcYtIBVn6aSRiyD19vwyJFzrjqm8aZkzx0bjAU5CPcuooUmOg/s800/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_Blue-1_2015_30x24inches__small.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="800" height="568" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFtRenQKaLChYOwovI71NNYzgQjowV5nyYuTz5OSvlHpOUa8rGup2624P3L2fLOAYA1f5_5hlC0mzszHjSJW9-6GYGhyphenhyphengYuxOF0N-8scxuiHrP3_C1VS6jdLFTkapapZrOavP1oImj3QcYtIBVn6aSRiyD19vwyJFzrjqm8aZkzx0bjAU5CPcuooUmOg/w640-h568/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_Blue-1_2015_30x24inches__small.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Blue 1: A Meditation on Phosphorescence", 30x24 inches, $920 CAD</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqN73crPzRL5EdNaE1XeX5iLWRPCSw5sZGItLjHmAworNTq4LP1z6wWoRfgeJZRRdhT4hQytFhQq1k3PArNZBvFA1mdGObsJIHQYFt7d8tYkVUe0vQPv3aI2MtJiEgx_COO8-PjecMlnF3qh52d68gF_aMjFXf4CTTNgjUGZRFd-rScT0DwGe5-Ro1H9U/s800/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_Do-You-See-Me-Does-Anyone-Care_2018_16x40inches__small.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="332" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqN73crPzRL5EdNaE1XeX5iLWRPCSw5sZGItLjHmAworNTq4LP1z6wWoRfgeJZRRdhT4hQytFhQq1k3PArNZBvFA1mdGObsJIHQYFt7d8tYkVUe0vQPv3aI2MtJiEgx_COO8-PjecMlnF3qh52d68gF_aMjFXf4CTTNgjUGZRFd-rScT0DwGe5-Ro1H9U/w266-h640/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_Do-You-See-Me-Does-Anyone-Care_2018_16x40inches__small.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Do You See Me? (Does Anyone Care?)", 16x40 inches, $952 CAD</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAzDemy7HOWS4KiIOqeB6zXpaUMfE9t7Z5W2e0w85OEtrjUaNQFpIUY_zV83MoDGxNetva2OVNdaGAHZVY0oXtVbTYureggj5wsCUnPnfH7Q4J_ug_yooSSJf8hF0WXOYppH2UTqFwbo6mM85A_k4q2vkqzE2ed8d2VFTu_Ml-Zn2gYoTD4jRiQU6TdeA/s800/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_Green-1_2015_36x24inches__small.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="581" data-original-width="800" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAzDemy7HOWS4KiIOqeB6zXpaUMfE9t7Z5W2e0w85OEtrjUaNQFpIUY_zV83MoDGxNetva2OVNdaGAHZVY0oXtVbTYureggj5wsCUnPnfH7Q4J_ug_yooSSJf8hF0WXOYppH2UTqFwbo6mM85A_k4q2vkqzE2ed8d2VFTu_Ml-Zn2gYoTD4jRiQU6TdeA/w640-h464/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_Green-1_2015_36x24inches__small.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Green 1: A Meditation on Phosphorescence", 36x24 inches, $1064 CAD</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgS6B_LRpCnUgHAt7bMDdp_kfsilGmpzEN0glIODNZ02NNDErvR5HMzKAz1NJQNIIW1B62u8IcfQVEmAASsaHa5D6XEM3rgD89-asbgevEavcrNOF-rctae3PxyN3ZMch5isrAuJV5ID50Q_BxsbkfG4W-qZI8ksG0d0bSHsBLB1RnyIemS-Cys1YWvOM/s755/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_Keep-Your-Eyes-Open-Mama-Were-Almost-Home_2015_16x20inches__small.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="755" data-original-width="600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgS6B_LRpCnUgHAt7bMDdp_kfsilGmpzEN0glIODNZ02NNDErvR5HMzKAz1NJQNIIW1B62u8IcfQVEmAASsaHa5D6XEM3rgD89-asbgevEavcrNOF-rctae3PxyN3ZMch5isrAuJV5ID50Q_BxsbkfG4W-qZI8ksG0d0bSHsBLB1RnyIemS-Cys1YWvOM/w508-h640/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_Keep-Your-Eyes-Open-Mama-Were-Almost-Home_2015_16x20inches__small.jpg" width="508" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Keep Your Eyes Open, Mama; We're Almost Home", 16x20 inches, $520 CAD</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT3VrMwSuUfe8vOV3z0TUCBZbyQHJSR2zQoZAFP8CRsElSIKPBdeTCr4FI7CYZC9bDZXZNsp1H_LjR-r2XiB1Jte85dcjNXpsKJF6KsjNn8Qsph0HiwKVbiUjplfXvu7bxK0-EGT09qxKmdU1DSeeSUxc-RryW25YqjXdwiSKwUhmtb_fWohqRnrJ95rA/s1775/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_please-sit-with-me-and-watch-the-sun-yellow-behind-the-smoke_2019_4x12inches__small.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1775" data-original-width="600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT3VrMwSuUfe8vOV3z0TUCBZbyQHJSR2zQoZAFP8CRsElSIKPBdeTCr4FI7CYZC9bDZXZNsp1H_LjR-r2XiB1Jte85dcjNXpsKJF6KsjNn8Qsph0HiwKVbiUjplfXvu7bxK0-EGT09qxKmdU1DSeeSUxc-RryW25YqjXdwiSKwUhmtb_fWohqRnrJ95rA/w216-h640/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_please-sit-with-me-and-watch-the-sun-yellow-behind-the-smoke_2019_4x12inches__small.jpg" width="216" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"<span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto">Sit With Me and Watch the Sun Yellow Behind the Smoke</span>", 4x12 inches, $248 CAD</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQLME1jtFGFJs7QHyLW-UWiMndw-TqDwjYid82gb2aFvz4yXhNkG64ZjzOSW3c_CEgzYePl8DCot-LD4hMzh5colOtZxZJ_pfG1KrVUNRPQyEhyphenhypheni5YASvkUb29_LGooRv4ZrgL5kHHc-ilNHy_Vh9lEXToLn-hsjI_AWy0biPu4vnb7OXBCErIBv11nnI/s2368/08_Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_drink-before-the-war_2019_20x24inches.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2368" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQLME1jtFGFJs7QHyLW-UWiMndw-TqDwjYid82gb2aFvz4yXhNkG64ZjzOSW3c_CEgzYePl8DCot-LD4hMzh5colOtZxZJ_pfG1KrVUNRPQyEhyphenhypheni5YASvkUb29_LGooRv4ZrgL5kHHc-ilNHy_Vh9lEXToLn-hsjI_AWy0biPu4vnb7OXBCErIBv11nnI/w540-h640/08_Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_drink-before-the-war_2019_20x24inches.jpg" width="540" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto"><i>"Drink Before the War", 20x24 inches, $680 CAD<br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEialLoU1SCjx2xCVue16TqDRxqRL5gCXG3zgI5Dv9UuLnogyUwu7VrDZP0WCC8rFCigZQSxktTt1_d41oENuK1B4VE590wp1KbgZ09SvweBwIEp3xt0-80ORBlTr4hnNDXfvj2pf1di3mlqM1Au7fggEM0CfIPGVYBJqhquGdixWtErmh06cawo0bBRG5Y/s5787/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_sun-setting-on-the-avenue-2_2023_3x4x12inches.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4500" data-original-width="5787" height="498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEialLoU1SCjx2xCVue16TqDRxqRL5gCXG3zgI5Dv9UuLnogyUwu7VrDZP0WCC8rFCigZQSxktTt1_d41oENuK1B4VE590wp1KbgZ09SvweBwIEp3xt0-80ORBlTr4hnNDXfvj2pf1di3mlqM1Au7fggEM0CfIPGVYBJqhquGdixWtErmh06cawo0bBRG5Y/w640-h498/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_sun-setting-on-the-avenue-2_2023_3x4x12inches.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto"><i>"Sun Setting on the Avenue 2", three canvases, 4x12 inches each, $344 CAD<br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDOHsUEoyCOVAye4VocW9CCO0ROCjJymsOL2ttXFldci2a-_fFTSVcbag-jwBmLS-8dzmDBlnBzNRIIZRqB8WROaIqYfGGwm34QAzZhaN2RBnpe7UFKcZXU1nZJbnYkhBqDbt5Ugb078jU__aNnEjTKjrkruRsgRggs9VskMU-1ENit09rK0prt8Np_Wo/s800/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_Up-Behind-And-Away-Again_2017_40x24inches__small.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="504" data-original-width="800" height="404" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDOHsUEoyCOVAye4VocW9CCO0ROCjJymsOL2ttXFldci2a-_fFTSVcbag-jwBmLS-8dzmDBlnBzNRIIZRqB8WROaIqYfGGwm34QAzZhaN2RBnpe7UFKcZXU1nZJbnYkhBqDbt5Ugb078jU__aNnEjTKjrkruRsgRggs9VskMU-1ENit09rK0prt8Np_Wo/w640-h404/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_Up-Behind-And-Away-Again_2017_40x24inches__small.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto"><i>"Up Behind and Away Again", 3 canvases, 12x24 inches each, $1280 CAD<br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Vegetation</b></span> - all oil on canvas. I don't paint these much anymore, but sometimes I just need a little joy!<br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VdLlGGcFQjR3hbVoLvyAIATsl8mh-4hpwAcPWkcoT1Cu0rC5VBe2Seot6sqcSDy1QjsFWsxmMRwp8hmgeWsqZFH_sWakkT1748EPXgpEAyKCl_4KBbpL18QzpDu5EPN4vCp34Tv5YleeMV1mqUjSx9MOavuKDqi7qNyCNCPGUzjL1rmHmdtO5DqFlNo/s1059/11143594_1617701431834120_8741743723837611494_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1059" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_VdLlGGcFQjR3hbVoLvyAIATsl8mh-4hpwAcPWkcoT1Cu0rC5VBe2Seot6sqcSDy1QjsFWsxmMRwp8hmgeWsqZFH_sWakkT1748EPXgpEAyKCl_4KBbpL18QzpDu5EPN4vCp34Tv5YleeMV1mqUjSx9MOavuKDqi7qNyCNCPGUzjL1rmHmdtO5DqFlNo/w484-h640/11143594_1617701431834120_8741743723837611494_o.jpg" width="484" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto"><i>"Thank You for Sheltering Me 3", 36x48 inches, $1928 CAD<br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVaWtgGTei2SL6BILhleUMcro4QTCdoYA5FtnRyNaZxXIY7NQp6jqRYcXMDiMjsdF9ART0ifjZkon-adpSmNQjby-pyU2EPODVDjsYkhzkmr_CxaaFL7zajE24UHzrYzA8m9xpsyddW6gD2L1MFc7ATSaHFDX8hi_Tqq9efM8CpWJN6dFsUaCzMgfTQ48/s1200/Spring%20came%20early%20and%20surprised%20the%20bluebells.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="813" data-original-width="1200" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVaWtgGTei2SL6BILhleUMcro4QTCdoYA5FtnRyNaZxXIY7NQp6jqRYcXMDiMjsdF9ART0ifjZkon-adpSmNQjby-pyU2EPODVDjsYkhzkmr_CxaaFL7zajE24UHzrYzA8m9xpsyddW6gD2L1MFc7ATSaHFDX8hi_Tqq9efM8CpWJN6dFsUaCzMgfTQ48/w640-h434/Spring%20came%20early%20and%20surprised%20the%20bluebells.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto"><i>"Spring Came Early and Surprised the Bluebells 4", 36x24 inches, $1064 CAD<br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxWDV8RevpsOAvodqY04ZM-cxJYmvxAzKWHj7uOhABpfGzeLL8oUFuNLUOBS2wiq3ORObA2wnMP7dianmzxBeKc0g6dJ5_j_zBKzYjKmni3bOQYMhvmcNRqMA218B5MuoZEpgcQa8OzyGIvDD_SbjneY91Rz1KaaM15IcuB0oKi2ST5SMLTamfdAclY8/s4608/Emily%20van%20Lidth%20de%20Jeude_Cherry%20Blossoms%201%202%20and%203_oil%20and%20graphite%20on%20canvas_3x15x30inches_2023.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2928" data-original-width="4608" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxWDV8RevpsOAvodqY04ZM-cxJYmvxAzKWHj7uOhABpfGzeLL8oUFuNLUOBS2wiq3ORObA2wnMP7dianmzxBeKc0g6dJ5_j_zBKzYjKmni3bOQYMhvmcNRqMA218B5MuoZEpgcQa8OzyGIvDD_SbjneY91Rz1KaaM15IcuB0oKi2ST5SMLTamfdAclY8/w640-h406/Emily%20van%20Lidth%20de%20Jeude_Cherry%20Blossoms%201%202%20and%203_oil%20and%20graphite%20on%20canvas_3x15x30inches_2023.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto"><i>"Cherry Blossoms 1, 2, 3", 3 canvases, 15x30 inches each, $1550 CAD<br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEVWh49j_QpPXEmQSLFHhYRDQivDhqJHZLya7pM7nie3bCxB2AK0EeHx6Vri4BMsO0HR73KCmk22KgP6Y2eRb2U-FG0MDjRz3-29_O19wHKCsFf0vDjLPwoVipS9JpvuqJ0QKwfWPWwy7t-fvs6snWBA5C4zlncOZdRW8WBjYMoJoWjZpTyI4ZRuPlKQ/s959/You%20opened%20your%20eyes%20like%20the%20morning.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="959" data-original-width="800" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUEVWh49j_QpPXEmQSLFHhYRDQivDhqJHZLya7pM7nie3bCxB2AK0EeHx6Vri4BMsO0HR73KCmk22KgP6Y2eRb2U-FG0MDjRz3-29_O19wHKCsFf0vDjLPwoVipS9JpvuqJ0QKwfWPWwy7t-fvs6snWBA5C4zlncOZdRW8WBjYMoJoWjZpTyI4ZRuPlKQ/w534-h640/You%20opened%20your%20eyes%20like%20the%20morning.jpg" width="534" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto"><i>"</i></span><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto"><i>You Opened Your Eyes Like the Morning</i></span><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto"><i>", 20x24 inches, $680 CAD</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuRt808gN17jlDx8Adkgf1Inyu23cWcElVL5GJ4WNyinJsl0tu3smTaUZjKS__WmJ2DlPNav3KFvOt17EltIcON50SthPKvXYSY1oMUaNu13Fp0_Brmh3eBbjC9AdSaipLWzgaGvdE0op_GR1AvrPLFUQ8T0C2WaK7hOcEx6cyYREFI_k0UjuRPN7MlhE/s800/it%20was%20in%20the%20time%20of%20dancing%20leaves%20that%20you%20were%20born.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="793" data-original-width="800" height="634" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuRt808gN17jlDx8Adkgf1Inyu23cWcElVL5GJ4WNyinJsl0tu3smTaUZjKS__WmJ2DlPNav3KFvOt17EltIcON50SthPKvXYSY1oMUaNu13Fp0_Brmh3eBbjC9AdSaipLWzgaGvdE0op_GR1AvrPLFUQ8T0C2WaK7hOcEx6cyYREFI_k0UjuRPN7MlhE/w640-h634/it%20was%20in%20the%20time%20of%20dancing%20leaves%20that%20you%20were%20born.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto"><i>"</i></span><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto"><i>It Was in the Time of Dancing Leaves that You Were Born</i></span><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u" dir="auto"><i>", 24x24 inches, $776 CAD<br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> </div></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Portrait Commissions</b></span> - hire me to create a graphite, oil or acrylic portrait of you or your loved one. Having a portrait painted is an experience as much as an outcome. Price includes a photo-shoot with me: You get some photos, and I get to know the subjects I'm working with, which makes the portrait much more accurate and meaningful. Pricing ranges from about $500 to $1000, depending on size and photoshoot.</p><p><i>All of the following images are privately owned. None are for sale! <br /></i></p><p><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe6LzuKiw0tcnuFf8G2hA1b3fA-LGovuJqZ4dKIft4kciIjb-lPFLJA-mhHxGmEt0xE1iZUDKxzgETl8HFEyQg31Hu7lQj0mx0gTeZPJabcR7v38IIQzOqDs2bKziEZCjNsC0wBa1HWmSXlGvMPx7CgzwThpaNxzR84XToqen1JcQ3vLb_1OKQVdl3V2c/s5184/Emily%20van%20Lidth%20de%20Jeude_Grandma%20Frees%20the%20Ptarmigan_2022_graphite%20and%20oil%20on%20canvas_24x48inches.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5184" data-original-width="2596" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe6LzuKiw0tcnuFf8G2hA1b3fA-LGovuJqZ4dKIft4kciIjb-lPFLJA-mhHxGmEt0xE1iZUDKxzgETl8HFEyQg31Hu7lQj0mx0gTeZPJabcR7v38IIQzOqDs2bKziEZCjNsC0wBa1HWmSXlGvMPx7CgzwThpaNxzR84XToqen1JcQ3vLb_1OKQVdl3V2c/w320-h640/Emily%20van%20Lidth%20de%20Jeude_Grandma%20Frees%20the%20Ptarmigan_2022_graphite%20and%20oil%20on%20canvas_24x48inches.JPG" width="320" /></a></i></div><i><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBYUd3pZPDIn1VHFCRpIjOvUVwrEvNZY17wgJvM9T4x4Pzeylbg7Nk_LEhkDTklyyWWUdrLQWZrF46aJgQD7OiGl47y704I2sn3QSEcKyKTmIJ3XhEGK-_9k4re6XIsLOMnKMUSd_NFIcFxZ5KgP1CUzfa4qQhEizMJm5WwpF9d-EZ55qCUOdCGFHPwtc/s4522/20220928_pappa%20pruning%20portrait%20in%20acrylic_002.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4522" data-original-width="4500" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBYUd3pZPDIn1VHFCRpIjOvUVwrEvNZY17wgJvM9T4x4Pzeylbg7Nk_LEhkDTklyyWWUdrLQWZrF46aJgQD7OiGl47y704I2sn3QSEcKyKTmIJ3XhEGK-_9k4re6XIsLOMnKMUSd_NFIcFxZ5KgP1CUzfa4qQhEizMJm5WwpF9d-EZ55qCUOdCGFHPwtc/w636-h640/20220928_pappa%20pruning%20portrait%20in%20acrylic_002.jpg" width="636" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOKm5YVP3Mwm2Is0ADHmSauD-RlprerL2aJqIwTYG-J33KZnlneOu7xFRe8zHHZOXg_T1czIuEMOCT8LEuOffJV7l0P6cwzF4VNeJzj0zyPCPSgLbr22crtKWsey1Zat0ehZVLrCfxwzWWuBeOOAfeNJWjtS08pE68Pv9t8W5471oOWfrI1E87oK7BI0I/s2250/306768228_1274843256594539_1447696814282409873_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2247" data-original-width="2250" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOKm5YVP3Mwm2Is0ADHmSauD-RlprerL2aJqIwTYG-J33KZnlneOu7xFRe8zHHZOXg_T1czIuEMOCT8LEuOffJV7l0P6cwzF4VNeJzj0zyPCPSgLbr22crtKWsey1Zat0ehZVLrCfxwzWWuBeOOAfeNJWjtS08pE68Pv9t8W5471oOWfrI1E87oK7BI0I/w640-h640/306768228_1274843256594539_1447696814282409873_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzBCScS5XnIraK5mPKGZVYv8jUFN2n_ENUOAHD4QQ79lfJOFbuP9V2amH6DUC7rgryhR8FX5V0HpvrfxyZCtyNWnewW8kZDvhLG1gFCSuBaBl5OPDM-2ZiQ6dU49s4Sm5du2r5hzFvXqEvkwj_7oRTRLBwpCKoKpFZ1rRAbf9bmcPG_yWBE_JuI7vTBw/s4542/Emily%20van%20Lidth%20de%20Jeude_Pat%20Gallaher_graphite%20and%20oil%20on%20canvas_36x48inches.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4542" data-original-width="3444" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgzBCScS5XnIraK5mPKGZVYv8jUFN2n_ENUOAHD4QQ79lfJOFbuP9V2amH6DUC7rgryhR8FX5V0HpvrfxyZCtyNWnewW8kZDvhLG1gFCSuBaBl5OPDM-2ZiQ6dU49s4Sm5du2r5hzFvXqEvkwj_7oRTRLBwpCKoKpFZ1rRAbf9bmcPG_yWBE_JuI7vTBw/w486-h640/Emily%20van%20Lidth%20de%20Jeude_Pat%20Gallaher_graphite%20and%20oil%20on%20canvas_36x48inches.jpg" width="486" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgth9Hj3-1KRZ581k6_2WG0373y_XAnVP6-Lz3DpZRS8R7o_-YDbDrxOOKNwekRGPf2KmDn8blvakaajZmkNZ9OyIHOf_AJNee-Cn2Dg3JOK-s_yv4pLeFRuF-IeylYXBkA_CqJuj_h8yJaCBwOABaXCFu_H0SGpzVM3uW1K6U3TLmsxqg1S1uJsk3DdAo/s4950/EmilyVanLidth-29-08-2022-01.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3600" data-original-width="4950" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgth9Hj3-1KRZ581k6_2WG0373y_XAnVP6-Lz3DpZRS8R7o_-YDbDrxOOKNwekRGPf2KmDn8blvakaajZmkNZ9OyIHOf_AJNee-Cn2Dg3JOK-s_yv4pLeFRuF-IeylYXBkA_CqJuj_h8yJaCBwOABaXCFu_H0SGpzVM3uW1K6U3TLmsxqg1S1uJsk3DdAo/w640-h466/EmilyVanLidth-29-08-2022-01.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /></i><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCr_lWjB5HNhTI-7G1sqQm_7l0jxGc4ibt4p0qsTV7nKMmqMFYbf0D_Q7IhDiAbpIaJguLxACxieAKA9yM_JZltyyoD8VIEqUnT9l5UQqIkCMPWTl2GN8pnzhKtfwvMmPrU0p5J5hfuPx0Y8rhV9pJWoKrkR4j7_nNFt5Yr_JE8g-JiQ8meM76D1UfS4/s2048/2021%20mum%20and%20pappa%20portrait.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1714" data-original-width="2048" height="536" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZCr_lWjB5HNhTI-7G1sqQm_7l0jxGc4ibt4p0qsTV7nKMmqMFYbf0D_Q7IhDiAbpIaJguLxACxieAKA9yM_JZltyyoD8VIEqUnT9l5UQqIkCMPWTl2GN8pnzhKtfwvMmPrU0p5J5hfuPx0Y8rhV9pJWoKrkR4j7_nNFt5Yr_JE8g-JiQ8meM76D1UfS4/w640-h536/2021%20mum%20and%20pappa%20portrait.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuP4TgbildAaiGqbANKQMCKfvyxDR6cyEc4JJTcb-2bdvhfvb3nW5rILVDpR5_miMBIk2unn0jwmIWxXBBE8xx0WDGao-Gs1NjvP5_xIUOP5CnebdutDv_hgJ_79qdnTRijG9SY6krrRM_QW4GF-BDsk-AvTaWSpJP7OimVR6CeWLNOd5fwY6bXD_5V9A/s4194/bradley%201.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4194" data-original-width="3068" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuP4TgbildAaiGqbANKQMCKfvyxDR6cyEc4JJTcb-2bdvhfvb3nW5rILVDpR5_miMBIk2unn0jwmIWxXBBE8xx0WDGao-Gs1NjvP5_xIUOP5CnebdutDv_hgJ_79qdnTRijG9SY6krrRM_QW4GF-BDsk-AvTaWSpJP7OimVR6CeWLNOd5fwY6bXD_5V9A/w468-h640/bradley%201.jpg" width="468" /></a></div><br />Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-83978940051545449262023-10-03T17:56:00.003-07:002023-10-03T18:03:14.945-07:00Disinformation and meanness. What is going on?!<p><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSadDcIUgdtNu3C4zZ8BgTwg1ZwPXojFnRg5B2i2XxWXrZb1NrQnAQYAn0earmmg04apFBkY4YrHJJvFkfYNr3U9DSXL7HQTBxHqWa53Z9HKdLE2Znql9veO3UBluc2nKCFKU8oUo0y_4Nx7oYdOg3_Cfj9PDee1i95aDEHqbMLSHoqp7R8G-zpeg8uIs/s4344/IMG_9554~2.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4344" data-original-width="3456" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSadDcIUgdtNu3C4zZ8BgTwg1ZwPXojFnRg5B2i2XxWXrZb1NrQnAQYAn0earmmg04apFBkY4YrHJJvFkfYNr3U9DSXL7HQTBxHqWa53Z9HKdLE2Znql9veO3UBluc2nKCFKU8oUo0y_4Nx7oYdOg3_Cfj9PDee1i95aDEHqbMLSHoqp7R8G-zpeg8uIs/w510-h640/IMG_9554~2.JPG" width="510" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Escaping the Nest" (detail) E. van Lidth de Jeude</span></i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="graf graf--p" name="bfbe">It just hit me that maybe ten years ago I was worried about the rise of misinformation on social media. I saw it once in a while; people posting things from known biased sources, or just stating information they assumed was correct but wasn’t. Extensive fact-checking became more necessary than I had felt it was, before, since even trusted sources seemed infiltrated with presumption and error. Or maybe I was just becoming more aware. </p><p class="graf graf--p" name="f12a">Recently, though, it feels like disinformation is the norm, and complicated with some serious cruelty. On the bigger social media groups I’m a part of (chicken-keeping, canning, foraging, mushrooms, birds, education, etc.) it’s just absolutely normal for somebody to post a question and receive 30–70% wrong answers. It seems people have just become accustomed to stating an uneducated guess as fact. (And seriously — for canning, foraging, mushrooms, chickens, and schooling, this can lead to disaster, for example when someone asks for ID on a poisonous mushroom, and half the responses say it’s edible, and most of the other half are phallus jokes.) And then there are the people berating each other, not just for being wrong, but for correcting the mistakes, as well. Or for totally unrelated things. Like when said phallus jokes become linked to anti-trans attacks. It gets awful out there.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="e343">THEN there’s the morality war. There is a propensity for people (mostly white men, I’m sorry to say), to stick their uneducated opinions into posts about LGBTQ2IA+, indigenous, children’s rights, women’s rights, and BIPOC issues… again, as facts. Many of these “facts” are colonial constructs held by our society because they keep white men in power (and because the rest of us think they ensure our continued prosperity). But many are now also just lies made up by conspiracy theorists (like all the supposed chemical, psychological and media conspiracies to make our kids gay or trans or supportive of minority rights…) Sure, there are many sides to every story, but some things are actually not happening. I’m not even getting into the massive quagmire of people in power (often leaders of large corporate enterprises, politicians and religious leaders) using minorities as stepping-stones to more power. Some of us use these crimes as security for our privilege, without ever questioning ourselves.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="2f3c">In my art life this takes shape as criticism and fear: Am I appropriating symbols that are proprietary to a marginalized group that I’m not a member of? Rainbow spectra and feathers were important in my work before I became aware of appropriation, and it’s been hard to sideline them, even though I know how important it is. Even harder was the bickering between artists and members of the LGBTQ2IA+ and BIPOC communities. Oh yeah, and the outright hate-filled rhetoric between some feminists of different stripes. These issues make communicating online really fraught, even without the added question of misinformation or disinformation.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="7d72">What is going on?! Why is our culture disintegrating into this kind of nastiness and ignorance? As a long-time unschooling parent who notices the lack of this behaviour in the unschooling groups, it’s easy to feel like it might have some kind of relationship with our education system. Especially since unschooling mindset is one of curiosity, acceptance and learning, and unfortunately the compulsory, competitive nature of our school system can provoke a rebellion against curiosity and learning, as well as a propensity for bullying tactics. The rebellion against understanding <em class="markup--em markup--p-em">and</em> the bullying are apparent in a lot of the online attacks I’ve seen. But I think that, in the bigger picture, there’s a deeper reason. We’re experiencing a massive cultural shift. Our minds are opening. And that’s just messy.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="1bb6">We’re threatened from all angles as climate change changes every single foundation our cultures were built on (predictability of seasons, harvests, weather, migration, and therefore employment, finances, housing, healthcare, and even cultural norms). So in this state of growing societal panic, some people are trying to keep things as they were (ignoring the fact that the great majority of underprivileged people have already been suffering these unpredictabilities forever). Some are taking opportunities to fight for rights long-denied to them. Some, like me, are gleefully running headlong into the change, wanting to create a new and better world out of the chaos, and ALL of us are rather ungrounded in the process. There’s so much change, so much fear and threat, that we’re all just kind of scrabbling for understanding all the time. I guess it’s not surprising that a lot of people are confused about the facts, in this kind of chaos! I am too. Everything seems to take so much research now! And patience, tact, and caution! And in the rush of this change, and the feeling of urgency everywhere, it’s not surprising we don’t feel we have time to fact-check or to come to an understanding of the issues we’re talking about before making assumptions and proclamations. </p><p class="graf graf--p" name="bc2f">So it’s frustrating, and sometimes even extremely upsetting, when people resort to cruelty because they feel threatened or inadequate in the face of such big unfathomable change. But it’s necessary that we remain patient and kind, reminding ourselves that these actions are a part of our societal growth. And I’m choosing to see it as a great sign that big change is happening. As a woman with many friends and family in marginalized communities, I’m glad to see my own and other people’s rights have a chance to be respected. As a person living on earth, I’m glad we are making changes that might make our future survivable! Maybe we can all take deep breaths and remind ourselves that everybody is confused and frightened. And maybe saying lots of wrong things is part of our process. We’re learning to learn and communicate! Real learning with an open heart and mind is how we will adapt to our new civilization. It’s how we will all grow to meet the challenge of a world none of us have lived in, before.</p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-78364699483888128302023-09-14T16:45:00.001-07:002023-09-14T16:45:29.759-07:0010 Ways to Save Humanity Even if You Can't March on Sept 15th<p>As the death-toll from Libya’s storm floods surpasses eleven thousand, and various hurricanes march their ways across the oceans, people all over the world are gearing up to March to End Fossil Fuels, tomorrow. (Find your city’s event <a class="markup--anchor markup--p-anchor" data-href="https://fossilfueltreaty.good.do/global-march/map/" href="https://fossilfueltreaty.good.do/global-march/map/" rel="noopener" target="_blank">on this map</a>.)</p><div style="text-align: center;"><figure class="graf graf--figure" name="3d83"><img alt="painting of person standing on a log in a lake with apocalyptic fire in the distance" class="graf-image" data-height="768" data-image-id="1*A_MbshgR8CZyIhGuE79wOg.jpeg" data-width="1230" height="399" src="https://cdn-images-1.medium.com/max/1200/1*A_MbshgR8CZyIhGuE79wOg.jpeg" width="640" /><figcaption class="imageCaption" style="text-align: left;"><i>Not a Thing Between Me and You (detail) … Recent painting by Emily van Lidth de Jeude, in response to Neil Young’s song, “Overhead”. This painting deals with our compulsion to just keep going into an unknown future, together, even when we don’t know we’re not alone. It’s about courage.</i></figcaption></figure></div><p class="graf graf--p" name="aa21">But what if we can’t march? And even if we can, how are we going to propel this impetus into action? How are we going to actually save our future on this planet? (Let’s face it, we’re not going to another planet, and instead of talking about “our children’s future” now, we’re talking about our own.) We’ve got months or a couple of years to turn this around, and even if we do, storms like this are now here to stay. So what can we do about it?</p><ol class="postList"><li class="graf graf--li" name="c1d4">Become resilient.<br />We can stop following the status quo, and learn to live differently than our youths and the media told us to. Learn to cook our own food. Learn to pivot our careers and plans and housing situations as needed, and without being traumatized. Adaptable creatures survive.</li><li class="graf graf--li" name="1201">Make our kids resilient. <br />So you might know I usually write about unschooling. That was (and still is) my effort to raise resilient, independent, capable adults. And it worked! At 18 and 21, my kids are now living independently (together), paying their own way, and making changes for a better world. <br />Unschooling isn’t the only way to make our kids resilient. Any kind of freedom to explore and develop their own skills will help. As will encouraging schools to opt for explorative learning, wilderness education, and all the things that will help our kids be connected, creative, courageous, and resourceful. Those are the skills our kids will need to survive our new world.</li><li class="graf graf--li" name="7b3e">Grow food.<br />Whatever we can do, whether it’s growing sprouts on our kitchen counters to save $10/week in veggies, or escaping the rat race to go whole-hog on a homestead — just do it. We can all (and yes I mean <em class="markup--em markup--li-em">all</em>) grow at least some of our food. This not only saves money (if we learn from someone else who’s doing it effectively and don’t fall for sales tactics for all the gadgets we don’t need), it also brings us closer to our food, giving us a deeper understanding of life, our bodies, our connection to the ecology we live in, and nutrition. It’s healthier for us (fresher food), and it’s also healthier for the environment, since everything we grow (sustainably) ourselves is something we don’t buy from the unsustainable agricultural industry.</li><li class="graf graf--li" name="b502">Buy local.<br />For all those foods and other things we can’t grow or make, ourselves, we can buy local! I guarantee you there is somebody out there trying to get rid of a bunch of homegrown zucchinis or apples right about now. What if we paid them instead of a big supermarket chain? What if we bought from local farmers, builders, and creators instead of from the capitalist industries that are the root of climate change? This is a shift we can make.</li><li class="graf graf--li" name="b4ee">Don’t buy! Boycott capitalism.<br />Buying local is one way of sidestepping the corporations who are doing the most damage, but buying less is an even better way. A big part of our problem is overpopulation, and then there’s overconsumption. We really don’t need all the stuff. We don’t need big houses. We don’t need big cars, we don’t need lots of clothing or school supplies or travel or household items. We don’t even need as much food as we currently consume, and we <em class="markup--em markup--li-em">especially</em> don’t need to be wasting as much food as we do through restaurant and supermarket refuse, and simple neglect at home. How many times do people go on a fabulous vacation and then declare they need a vacation from their vacation? What if we just took a local vacation in the first place — one that doesn’t displace people from rental accommodation, and that connects us with our homes in ways we hadn’t experienced, before? In the space that’s left without the things that we don’t *actually* need, we will learn to find convenience, fulfillment and joy. We will have space to keep building that resilience and resourcefulness I mentioned earlier.</li><li class="graf graf--li" name="c592">Be happy with less.<br />Along with resilience and resourcefulness comes happiness. It is just plain <em class="markup--em markup--li-em">so</em> rewarding to grow my own food! I go out every day now and tend my chickens, weed a bit of veggie garden, eat some food right off the plants, and just generally revel in a lifestyle that I once found daunting. I feel empowered by my mended clothing in a way I don’t feel empowered by something brand new. I now have some serious disabilities, and learning to be resilient and resourceful has made me happy, similarly to how my job working with kids used to make me feel.</li><li class="graf graf--li" name="4ffb">Love our local ecology.<br />Partly the joy I get is from being active in my local ecology (also similarly to when I worked with kids on wilderness exploration)! I have learned so much about how connected we are; am currently fascinated with the many types of wild bees and other insects that frequent my small yard, and with their life’s work and activities that all contribute to the diversity we depend on. How does this love save our world? By connecting us with it. If we love our ecology, we’ll know it better, and the more we know and love, the greater ability we’ll have to protect it. We <em class="markup--em markup--li-em">need</em> our ecology. If only for the simple reason that it feeds us and protects us from storms. That in its diversity it will recover when we finally do turn the trend of climate change around.</li><li class="graf graf--li" name="867f">Love our neighbours.<br />We’ve got a couple of new neighbours recently. We’re making an effort to connect with them. You know why? Because when the power goes out, when a tree falls across the road, when someone’s pipes freeze or someone needs any kind of help at all — or just a hug, we will be there for each other. When the storms come, we’ll need each other.</li><li class="graf graf--li" name="9b98">Love our children.<br />Obviously. Because the hell that we’re going to experience pales deeply against the hell that our kids will know. If we love them, we need to save them.</li><li class="graf graf--li" name="4e47">Just love.<br />And when it’s all too much, when we’re succumbing to doubt and fear and a feeling that nothing we do could possibly be enough, we can love. If I’m going to die, I want to do it in the arms of someone who loves me. And more importantly, I’m far less likely to die early if I share a deep love. Our future and neighbours and children and the whole global population is more likely to thrive if we live a life of love instead of material acquisition. </li></ol><p class="graf graf--p" name="b1bf">Love is actually a hard thing to do. So I’ll tumble out of my list now, just to write a little about love. Love is a challenge. It’s like a great wave piling up behind us, saying …RUN! And can we do it? Can we keep going even when the wave is catching our ankles? Can we slog through the wash around our waists, grasping at the ungraspable wind, to haul ourselves out when the wave peters out, and get up and run again before the next wave comes? That’s love. It’s work. Neverending, challenging, heartbreaking impossible work. But it’s also the only thing that’s worth working for. Love is, in many ways, survival. When love (of a person, planet, dream, or future) compels us, we can access the resilience, courage, creativity, and resourcefulness needed to meet all the challenges. Climate change included. </p><p class="graf graf--p" name="b27a">So whether or not you can join a climate march tomorrow, do <em class="markup--em markup--p-em">something</em>. Something that will make you feel empowered and resilient. Something that will save us, tomorrow. And tomorrow? Do something again!</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="42ff">With love,<br />Emily</p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-76305346271806823342023-08-30T11:45:00.000-07:002023-08-30T11:45:08.225-07:00<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqhRpZqCk00AlMGrprTsZem-kG34MD0YF5sGtkGnyx5bRA4R8GsmrFOwwkvIzzAcGnxV3eDkYlzuX55F0sfae2aZzEPZwgLpwI-sV0qUnRdwR4idOulbPC-T4Ln9jvjHloKMUEkE9U3pDYhBJNJSHU5mhf8MpjzOYR8-npe7HTbOvYBapA-AlseliZTa0/s1216/Art%20Sale%20AD%20image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1151" data-original-width="1216" height="606" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqhRpZqCk00AlMGrprTsZem-kG34MD0YF5sGtkGnyx5bRA4R8GsmrFOwwkvIzzAcGnxV3eDkYlzuX55F0sfae2aZzEPZwgLpwI-sV0qUnRdwR4idOulbPC-T4Ln9jvjHloKMUEkE9U3pDYhBJNJSHU5mhf8MpjzOYR8-npe7HTbOvYBapA-AlseliZTa0/w640-h606/Art%20Sale%20AD%20image.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />I recently did a commission of a local forest painting for two brothers in the Netherlands. They are paying by donation to BC Conservation groups that I recommended. I feel SO wonderful about this whole arrangement that I decided to do a big sale of my work in support of my local Conservancy, which works very very hard to manage, preserve, and educate about our local wildlands. There's really nothing that matters more to the survival of humanity than protecting the ecology of the planet we inhabit, and the Bowen Island Conservancy works so hard to this end that I can't think of a better recipient for the proceeds from my work.<p></p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5VPJHpe8Wp9k51CMOrwqo4FUHtRlLZ3l3WaKceE3KsX7hKFtSU-op4caT4sR-H5IRqY00oG2QB88RTpHYYt9-pSiW1EXexSNcRUG4NtAHzqr6mKrt-xrRdm6_06aOO3YORWzeTYfXo-0j3LLj1ceDFVX_P_R5p09cVKRzJ3mTdGLW3C_uONUb6RQjfEY/s4293/IMG_20230708_183546115~2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2551" data-original-width="4293" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5VPJHpe8Wp9k51CMOrwqo4FUHtRlLZ3l3WaKceE3KsX7hKFtSU-op4caT4sR-H5IRqY00oG2QB88RTpHYYt9-pSiW1EXexSNcRUG4NtAHzqr6mKrt-xrRdm6_06aOO3YORWzeTYfXo-0j3LLj1ceDFVX_P_R5p09cVKRzJ3mTdGLW3C_uONUb6RQjfEY/w640-h380/IMG_20230708_183546115~2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The painting that inspired this sale. It's a pair of landscapes for a pair of brothers. Together they make a forest, and the sun shines on them both. Kind of like this sale, which will benefit me (space in my studio!!) AND the Bowen Island Conservancy, whose work protects us all.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p>Please join us! Hopefully the rain will hold off, but if not, it's dry in the studio! Maybe you'll go home with a painting, photo-print, or a book! And because my studio sits just adjacent to my regenerative food garden, the first ten purchases will also receive a free plant or package of seeds (first purchase; first choice!) I'm very much looking forward to this day, and include below a few of the pieces whose sale price will most benefit the Conservancy.<br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">Open Studio and Art Sale
</span></b><br />
<i>75% of sale price of botanical paintings and 25% of other paintings will
be donated to the Bowen Island Conservancy
</i><br />
<b>Sunday, September 3, 10am--4pm
</b><br />
602 Collins rd, Bowen Island
<br />
Please no dogs, as we have chickens in the yard.
<br />
More info: <a class="moz-txt-link-abbreviated" href="mailto:emilyvanartist@gmail.com">emilyvanartist@gmail.com</a> </p><p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRxmGx-Biyo50W7soIaMvV8aCQO5KalRHV_glYhrdw3U4DVKho3fvI21JDGtrEJ0utLohAQYWxsOm7efNYPCQtFt4A2J4pBF7WecEpI8XBYbzqaU3_GRxHCk-aOhUwRmodDNd_MDbdxn-s1GGwABrVG6EyMXDtNd9jcUq76qb772Y1TdfMXKudgGGDTJ4/s4608/Emily%20van%20Lidth%20de%20Jeude_Cherry%20Blossoms%201%202%20and%203_oil%20and%20graphite%20on%20canvas_3x15x30inches_2023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2928" data-original-width="4608" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRxmGx-Biyo50W7soIaMvV8aCQO5KalRHV_glYhrdw3U4DVKho3fvI21JDGtrEJ0utLohAQYWxsOm7efNYPCQtFt4A2J4pBF7WecEpI8XBYbzqaU3_GRxHCk-aOhUwRmodDNd_MDbdxn-s1GGwABrVG6EyMXDtNd9jcUq76qb772Y1TdfMXKudgGGDTJ4/w640-h406/Emily%20van%20Lidth%20de%20Jeude_Cherry%20Blossoms%201%202%20and%203_oil%20and%20graphite%20on%20canvas_3x15x30inches_2023.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Cherry Blossoms 1, 2, & 3<br />Oil and graphite on 3 canvases totalling 50x30"<br />$1550</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDbxVDywFJipfDLJJTzU0O-hvBrjbSjFi240SsDqkw0wD_YbAq0IB_SD2SW96MX0_CGD0eeCDmdr3XmXzGfSKJGxr0486hzxY_scVHVekwQmjfH1L_LP3OnHIt_-MXIdaT2_xnJcCJLmFucG1Nv4qa7Xrr7-7NBjjXKXbr-sol1l9I4PHl-jcaY1CmkhE/s800/Thank%20you%20for%20sheltering%20me2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="538" data-original-width="800" height="430" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDbxVDywFJipfDLJJTzU0O-hvBrjbSjFi240SsDqkw0wD_YbAq0IB_SD2SW96MX0_CGD0eeCDmdr3XmXzGfSKJGxr0486hzxY_scVHVekwQmjfH1L_LP3OnHIt_-MXIdaT2_xnJcCJLmFucG1Nv4qa7Xrr7-7NBjjXKXbr-sol1l9I4PHl-jcaY1CmkhE/w640-h430/Thank%20you%20for%20sheltering%20me2.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Thank you for sheltering me 2<br />Oil on canvas, 36x24"<br />$1064</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWhSuDt_cIG9CEeG7A3zWRtkreMbUfHZxDIDUcVCKlh-Zcz2ec-YwAkq8AuVQvMa9QBlUXv3hHG7Fy1HR0aqMs1_n8d6JuFmRe-Ui_wvP5O1gp98-muoI2TwzG1-rP8cZkL1Ehr5HkwvIhiXlgtFo5I0aR6mPj0pAQ-kKjWUC2BfA-OGVkbT1MMUycGcU/s1200/Spring%20came%20early%20and%20surprised%20the%20bluebells.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="813" data-original-width="1200" height="434" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWhSuDt_cIG9CEeG7A3zWRtkreMbUfHZxDIDUcVCKlh-Zcz2ec-YwAkq8AuVQvMa9QBlUXv3hHG7Fy1HR0aqMs1_n8d6JuFmRe-Ui_wvP5O1gp98-muoI2TwzG1-rP8cZkL1Ehr5HkwvIhiXlgtFo5I0aR6mPj0pAQ-kKjWUC2BfA-OGVkbT1MMUycGcU/w640-h434/Spring%20came%20early%20and%20surprised%20the%20bluebells.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Spring came early and surprised the bluebells.<br />Oil on canvas, 36x24"<br />$1064</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicAsCuayU46hxuuFG0XPhPsoIH7BzydANe1fH5jpWQiZaunN7_AaGMkYfNiOzUmav3UbwOgYq3yTSZeRS5uWR2PH6_GL2OgYUI83yWxCUm4Xonecx2uMzqCURxPwTPoD7qu7O29i0Phi-hxgxPBMJHvdcgml7QlrYOy8IcVfulBEh9cKzNwrSG687U4s/s800/it%20was%20in%20the%20time%20of%20dancing%20leaves%20that%20you%20were%20born.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="793" data-original-width="800" height="634" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhicAsCuayU46hxuuFG0XPhPsoIH7BzydANe1fH5jpWQiZaunN7_AaGMkYfNiOzUmav3UbwOgYq3yTSZeRS5uWR2PH6_GL2OgYUI83yWxCUm4Xonecx2uMzqCURxPwTPoD7qu7O29i0Phi-hxgxPBMJHvdcgml7QlrYOy8IcVfulBEh9cKzNwrSG687U4s/w640-h634/it%20was%20in%20the%20time%20of%20dancing%20leaves%20that%20you%20were%20born.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>It was in the time of dancing leaves that you were born.<br />Oil on canvas, 24x24"<br />$776</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />There will be many other things for sale as well, including recent abstract works on canvas, unframed photo prints, and art books. Even a few SuperMAMA t-shirts, for only $30!<br /></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-17593280521767610062023-08-21T10:34:00.004-07:002023-08-21T10:34:51.175-07:00Smoke, Fire, Ashes, and covering everything with white.<p>I sometimes wonder why everything I paint recently, and somehow even the installations I do, gets a clouded overlay. It's oil paint, white fabric, soft white light; whatever. I keep washing everything away into a purposeful obscurity. (Except my portrait of my Ukrainian Grandma releasing her war trauma. For that I made the obscurity first, and she came out of it. That's a strange happening!) Recently I also found out I have cataracts, apparently caused by the various courses of prednisone I've been subjected to over these last 3.5 years of struggling with long COVID. Blah. Great. Not the news you want, as an artist! But even more recently I realized I might be replicating my own clouded cateract vision in my work. Huh.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhElqsdXeRohpbJmEzWM2h_Wuz2ACelRvHlwKVB32vSYRbV57HkQkgmnvyR441sCGriGlMmDhkz9yZUHU7l0tVEL8grhrdf3w-a87NIu3dwH7anTQPrkCAjZ7Pjw5wDR_4bWWtpyYkQUXYj87fQIBMd2f582eBMnGMVGKYriero9vOVgqI81W-6HBULwg/s4039/20220907_grandma%20frees%20the%20ptarmigan--2000w.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4039" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhElqsdXeRohpbJmEzWM2h_Wuz2ACelRvHlwKVB32vSYRbV57HkQkgmnvyR441sCGriGlMmDhkz9yZUHU7l0tVEL8grhrdf3w-a87NIu3dwH7anTQPrkCAjZ7Pjw5wDR_4bWWtpyYkQUXYj87fQIBMd2f582eBMnGMVGKYriero9vOVgqI81W-6HBULwg/w316-h640/20220907_grandma%20frees%20the%20ptarmigan--2000w.jpg" width="316" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Grandma Frees the Ptarmigan, 2023</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>I mean, part of me wants to embrace that (since the inflammatory effects of my long COVID also mean cataract surgery is not recommended), but part of me is still looking for a deeper meaning. And the white thing has been going on in my work for longer than I've had cataracts. I think I found my deeper meaning, during this current fire-season. It's self-silencing. </p><p>We live in a world full of fear, watching homes and towns and futures burn and flood and life just get harder and harder. And the best comfort we can give ourselves is to wrap up in the status quo. Get a latte from a huge corporate entity and watch some non-reality on Netflix. We Canadians aren't even allowed to share the news anymore (Meta: Working to silence the world!) </p><p>I've been passionately determined to change the status quo since I was a kid, but people get defensive if I talk about change. People write off my personal status-quo-breaking experiments (unschooling, regenerative farming, rejecting many popular conveniences in an effort to live sustainably) as impossible for most, or, even worse, "crazy". I feel so frustrated; so unheard, and so afraid of losing community support (and friends!) because my voice has been too loud; too radical. So I'm trying to shout my meaning while simultaneously silencing myself (!) Yeah. That's weird.</p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_FR1B9NK_Xv0QLnBiW0aa7VeaELDD8unXumKsvT_FyubmAH0zDs6JDYBoqjrj2royG6S_tr8IvzV5-yIY1aDxyH2lGwi2CWPR_OnejXRIYjlNilgLjzrDuVvL1e6u8XZFHTYjRIhYFWEPuS-SUT35naRYROUR3nBDpC1odp0j7VPw2x5Hb5T5oZ75OU/s790/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_Nothing-Comes-Out_2016_30x40inches__small.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="790" data-original-width="600" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_FR1B9NK_Xv0QLnBiW0aa7VeaELDD8unXumKsvT_FyubmAH0zDs6JDYBoqjrj2royG6S_tr8IvzV5-yIY1aDxyH2lGwi2CWPR_OnejXRIYjlNilgLjzrDuVvL1e6u8XZFHTYjRIhYFWEPuS-SUT35naRYROUR3nBDpC1odp0j7VPw2x5Hb5T5oZ75OU/w486-h640/Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_Nothing-Comes-Out_2016_30x40inches__small.jpg" width="486" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>(I open my mouth and) Nothing Comes Out, 2016<br /></i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>Is it necessary? Do I risk being written off like Sinéad O'Connor and everybody else who just couldn't keep silent? Who tried to change us? Or am I getting desperate enough not to care?<br /></p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBelscvDDMYHOEDuu7FdLIyDbelYYSDDxrh2UjI_66xqF8jr3H09bB93iszypaaaaxhIEMM_9RJ4Kkh8sODOForNGJIjCDX6ait0atgDk32JO_NLx7hy1Y6kg9efM7c4Expra57lTE6t7kXuvcad0i-jMSm72KBlpB2-fuLL6sv_8KssABrY9_dZbfDvI/s2368/08_Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_drink-before-the-war_2019_20x24inches.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2368" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBelscvDDMYHOEDuu7FdLIyDbelYYSDDxrh2UjI_66xqF8jr3H09bB93iszypaaaaxhIEMM_9RJ4Kkh8sODOForNGJIjCDX6ait0atgDk32JO_NLx7hy1Y6kg9efM7c4Expra57lTE6t7kXuvcad0i-jMSm72KBlpB2-fuLL6sv_8KssABrY9_dZbfDvI/w540-h640/08_Emily-van-Lidth-de-Jeude_drink-before-the-war_2019_20x24inches.jpg" width="540" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Drink Before the War, 2019<br /></i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p>I was so saddened by Sinéad's death that I got even quieter. Now I'm so infuriated with watching my province burn (the homes of family friends gone, family evacuated and praying they don't lose everything, and my own veggies wilting and dropping in the smoke) while so many continue their world travels, unnecessary purchases, and general adherence to the status quo. I feel like I've been shouting for change my whole life, and my voice is hoarse but still somehow no sound comes out. So today I'm going back to the studio and just see what comes out of my brushes, because I just can't not scream about it all right now.</p><p>I don't think I'll stop using white. It's also evocative for me these days of the smoke and ash that's now a part of our every summer. And the blindness with which we're going into the future. My blindness. But I'm going to try to stop silencing myself. <br /></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-42461613125186636432023-04-12T21:55:00.004-07:002023-04-12T21:55:36.251-07:00One Solar Year opens April 19th<p>Markus and I got interviewed for our upcoming show! Have a look, below, and once it's playing you can click the YouTube logo in the bottom corner to watch it full screen.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">One Solar Year</span></b><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">April 19 to May 1 at the Hearth Gallery on <span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x676frb x1lkfr7t x1lbecb7 x1s688f xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto">Nex̱wlélex̱wem/Bowen Island. </span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x676frb x1lkfr7t x1lbecb7 x1s688f xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto"><i>The opening celebration will happen on Earth Day, April 22, from 3:30-5pm, and will include an ecology tour at around 4:30.</i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x676frb x1lkfr7t x1lbecb7 x1s688f xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto"><b>For more information, see also:</b><i><br /><a href="https://thehearthartsonbowen.ca/news/one-solar-year-04-2023">https://thehearthartsonbowen.ca/news/one-solar-year-04-2023</a><br />or<br /><a href="https://www.emilyartist.ca/p/one-solar-year.html">https://www.emilyartist.ca/p/one-solar-year.html<br /></a></i></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/yIP669Zrg38" width="320" youtube-src-id="yIP669Zrg38"></iframe></div><br /><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x676frb x1lkfr7t x1lbecb7 x1s688f xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto"><br /></span><p></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-56355814099828067672023-04-11T08:24:00.005-07:002023-04-11T10:04:17.249-07:00Procreate Project Archive X Air Gallery<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDOzRLFpnFyCy8RCLntlc6AwzHQYdWN9e8GwcHY3PjIquKo074IuUTOwMW2sThuTCZYINzH4t3wr0VvEayBgWhpHnV4dhISyKV0y5A7EYporNZrGvH0MhJP7BcfxS85gX3_AcKs6fuIudWjO5BGWcZxe4qfagOXTtKVxbZdsrWsvgO6q4iuF54eM2v/s2855/20230321_Procreate%20Project%20Archive%20X%20Air%20Gallery%20on%20the%20Manchester%20Art%20Trail_145105ce.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="816" data-original-width="2855" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDOzRLFpnFyCy8RCLntlc6AwzHQYdWN9e8GwcHY3PjIquKo074IuUTOwMW2sThuTCZYINzH4t3wr0VvEayBgWhpHnV4dhISyKV0y5A7EYporNZrGvH0MhJP7BcfxS85gX3_AcKs6fuIudWjO5BGWcZxe4qfagOXTtKVxbZdsrWsvgO6q4iuF54eM2v/w640-h182/20230321_Procreate%20Project%20Archive%20X%20Air%20Gallery%20on%20the%20Manchester%20Art%20Trail_145105ce.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">I love this!! </p><p style="text-align: center;">So happy to be a part of this great project that puts the art of motherhood into public spaces! <br />That's my work (dis)robe: Maternity Wear you see near the top middle of the spread above. But it's just one of the many, many poignant pieces that are now out spreading the motherhood vibes in Manchester.<br /></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="3000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0UtoQvqCXlFyriKO8WWEJlzXddWrH99rr5rhyFhaPCJUieHlXn7ROfNzzQ-cV_plMD0F6NSk1DY7kb3L5jq4a0R1bqfZTHaRzUlm3q-S6mq8qcARzTi0pWykyK62EwXN0js1GgAtgLpetcPdnFLfMW3RUGkHR7Lk4oNJaXfkReGyS-4kJ-ckMCC7H/w400-h400/20230321_Procreate%20Project%20Archive%20X%20Air%20Gallery%20on%20the%20Manchester%20Art%20Trail_145205.jpg" width="400" /></div><p></p><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">Currently the project creators are collaborating with Air Gallery to show it in various Manchester locations, but the whole poster series is available for other exhibits as well, so who knows where it will go next! What a fabulous creation. </p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ31EYjL5XJ0UbIWtiGmgnSO7hAOgkCHVh1NzWZ9alSucPme8JwObkd821MUHp2yUUxdNmtFYxA0pKQyLBvd8qwHtzf79jThHNJVw6wfz3eoxOs-zd0mw4WnQ-hRslW315wORXcB-tK4aucp81R_FYuJtZ27UsKpudVLQx2r8QlPdNrqU0acWelDgk/s3000/20230321_Procreate%20Project%20Archive%20X%20Air%20Gallery%20on%20the%20Manchester%20Art%20Trail_145213.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="3000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ31EYjL5XJ0UbIWtiGmgnSO7hAOgkCHVh1NzWZ9alSucPme8JwObkd821MUHp2yUUxdNmtFYxA0pKQyLBvd8qwHtzf79jThHNJVw6wfz3eoxOs-zd0mw4WnQ-hRslW315wORXcB-tK4aucp81R_FYuJtZ27UsKpudVLQx2r8QlPdNrqU0acWelDgk/w400-h400/20230321_Procreate%20Project%20Archive%20X%20Air%20Gallery%20on%20the%20Manchester%20Art%20Trail_145213.jpg" width="400" /></a> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Do check out their site at <a href="https://www.procreateproject.com/portfolio/procreate-project-archive/" target="_blank">procreateproject.com</a>!</div><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="3000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqmRN9OwF0F4bk6dzZBkeq5sxo-SONiN3qFFeWfkl0rJwD5Ll1DjNU2AemL0E1LWGrQ9wPzN42sW0PyNjt12PZ2el1Pg8loJghMcSgqf4HmNExWjUFZOD5gCN_974XFcJJLrI7PiOvQBC9IqjSVrlg65zbwTVo_6mAxFKK0S0fPabJY_w2Xo_69SXh/w400-h400/20230321_Procreate%20Project%20Archive%20X%20Air%20Gallery%20on%20the%20Manchester%20Art%20Trail_160529.jpg" width="400" /></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;"> All images credit: Procreate Project Archive </p><p></p><p><br /></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-839069770175409592023-03-21T09:22:00.003-07:002023-03-21T09:27:13.180-07:00One Solar Year--The Book!<div class="moz-text-html" lang="x-unicode"><div dir="auto">Our book is
finished! Two copies of One Solar Year will be at <a href="https://thehearthartsonbowen.ca" target="_blank">the Hearth Gallery</a> as a
central part of the One Solar Year show, April 19-May 1, comprised of work by my
partner Markus Roemer, my son, <a href="https://taliesinriver.com/" target="_blank">Taliesin van Lidth de Jeude Roemer</a>, and myself. Like the
show as a whole, this book explores the seasonal, cultural, and
biological changes of the year 2022. Local wilderness photos by Taliesin
and myself are the foundation for poems that discuss our human
connection with each other and our ecology. </div><div dir="auto"> </div><div dir="auto">My favourite thing about
this book is that if you flip through from winter solstice to winter
solstice, you see the colour palette of the year go by. It's reassuring
to me that this sequence of colour is so familiar -- such a strong part
of our collective psyche. <br /></div><div dir="auto"> </div><div dir="auto">The book is available to purchase at my Blurb
store (link below), but it's quite expensive, due to the ever-rising
costs of everything, so I'll be doing a group purchase for locals in the spring to
at least save us all the cost of shipping. If you'd like a copy, let me
know. I expect I'll put the order in in May or June. </div><div dir="auto"><br /></div><div dir="auto">But you don't need to purchase it to have a look! Just click this image/link, and then click your way through the book. Or watch me flip through the hardcopy <a href="https://www.instagram.com/emilyvanartist/" target="_blank">on my instagram</a>. :-)<br /></div>
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<a data-bindattr-45="45" href="https://www.blurb.ca/bookshare/app/index.html?bookId=11510497" target="_blank">
<img alt="" data-bindattr-46="46" src="https://production.builder.blurb.com/pdf-processing/files/P16884045-2d16ef6487fd3dab45d22752801e745c1102763ed7f29c1aa35e05b880a0012d?Expires=1683912769" style="border: 0px none; box-shadow: rgb(153, 153, 153) 3px 3px 10px 1px; max-height: 300px; max-width: 300px; zoom: 50%;" />
</a>
<p style="margin: 5px;"><a style="border-bottom: 0px none; color: #00c0be; font-size: 18px; text-decoration: none; text-transform: uppercase;" target="_blank"><script id="metamorph-218-start" type="text/x-placeholder"></script>One Solar Year<script id="metamorph-218-end" type="text/x-placeholder"></script></a></p>
<p style="margin: 5px;">By <a style="color: #00c0be; order-bottom: 0; text-decoration: none;"><script id="metamorph-219-start" type="text/x-placeholder"></script>Emily van Lidth de Jeude<script id="metamorph-219-end" type="text/x-placeholder"></script></a></p>
</div>
</div>
Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-62512832913455980362023-02-13T13:25:00.005-08:002023-02-24T21:19:56.667-08:00Watch us install the show!<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/SBL2JfHymXo" width="320" youtube-src-id="SBL2JfHymXo"></iframe></div><p></p><p style="text-align: center;">What a wonderful time we had putting up the dual-channel installation of <br />w h a t . h o m e ! <br /></p><p>OK maybe it was a little stressful given the tight timeline, but we made it, and pretty sure we've survived! Here's a little video compilation of the process of installing. You'll see me sitting on the floor doing a video-interview with Rohit Joseph for CBC Radio's weekend morning show, North by Northwest. <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/listen/live-radio/1-43-north-by-northwest/clip/15965857-what-home-mean-you" target="_blank">Here's the fifteen-minute interview</a>, if you'd like to hear it, for as long as it's available online, anyway. It really was a joy to talk to Rohit, and a highlight of my career at this point. </p><p> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkz8-j8A4yaDpZN_JUdUJKpA_ZXKaSgIuS-bQb9FpSCsUUjqithl_cKAKlqUJg9pmF2nBBFOLh6XpbgC1Ilo2VHdKsT95ILx9ZaeyKHtWIOMcLUQ94JPkp5K64g0pYpLPYPSCIJ_b2RGCFw0DTqKOrdUPqum3w81URfWpdPtYPK_pGfebKGUboaqlE/s6240/20230211_emily%20whathome%20opening%20gibsons%20gallery_02_ralph%20and%20lidia_photos%20by%20tali_002%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3545" data-original-width="6240" height="365" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkz8-j8A4yaDpZN_JUdUJKpA_ZXKaSgIuS-bQb9FpSCsUUjqithl_cKAKlqUJg9pmF2nBBFOLh6XpbgC1Ilo2VHdKsT95ILx9ZaeyKHtWIOMcLUQ94JPkp5K64g0pYpLPYPSCIJ_b2RGCFw0DTqKOrdUPqum3w81URfWpdPtYPK_pGfebKGUboaqlE/w640-h365/20230211_emily%20whathome%20opening%20gibsons%20gallery_02_ralph%20and%20lidia_photos%20by%20tali_002%20(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></p><p>The opening was really incredible for me. Such a huge amount of support from my family, friends and community. I was totally blown away. <br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqT9DXDcyIC24sterLgARgDFAZDNwWZhbsmJtCL9Jqxpj7l3li4xk8kgNVOlqX58Z19PMnhuz9qZwUSv75sFenPt_Tilr14FrK_rDJ04E-cz12CpaNjLcGxi1aoEknVy0CduJUzP3YkxVPKPTcvDUjs2L-YW326rNGIAI_5VWZ5bewqPxagUxqJsaX/s1347/20230211_emily%20whathome%20opening%20gibsons%20gallery_06a_emily%20answering%20questions_photos%20by%20adrian_002%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1347" data-original-width="1347" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqT9DXDcyIC24sterLgARgDFAZDNwWZhbsmJtCL9Jqxpj7l3li4xk8kgNVOlqX58Z19PMnhuz9qZwUSv75sFenPt_Tilr14FrK_rDJ04E-cz12CpaNjLcGxi1aoEknVy0CduJUzP3YkxVPKPTcvDUjs2L-YW326rNGIAI_5VWZ5bewqPxagUxqJsaX/w640-h640/20230211_emily%20whathome%20opening%20gibsons%20gallery_06a_emily%20answering%20questions_photos%20by%20adrian_002%20(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></div> <br />Probably the biggest shock for me though was the unexpected appearance of a fabulous kid I once taught in the Netherlands. I haven't seen her in about thirty years, and she, her mother, and her kids now live on the Sunshine Coast, and came to the show!! AND she's an artist!!! What a wonderful surprise to connect again. Yet another thing that made me realize how grateful I am for the life I'm privileged to have. Here are a few photos from the opening. Thanks to my son <a href="https://taliesinriver.com/" target="_blank">Taliesin</a> and brother Adrian for the photos. 🧡<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRzmgeLitYavlaTj4FF6WIhUWGBeSmpR5aa_R0bOvQ-aq_sOHfsZZxkvkyBG1DDmh4vQa-brS1wE5gGd99EAv9qbX-S_2MS0nUjNPqlwEHz2t0DbN352S0KYt2skusYHn2n7y0MOLrVi-oVFsek1NaddIf_XFRAB3BI4Zj598kNSB8izrTh4t2Y32W/s6240/20230211_emily%20whathome%20opening%20gibsons%20gallery_12_emily%20being%20interviewed%20for%20sunshine%20coast%20newspaper_photos%20by%20tali%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4160" data-original-width="6240" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRzmgeLitYavlaTj4FF6WIhUWGBeSmpR5aa_R0bOvQ-aq_sOHfsZZxkvkyBG1DDmh4vQa-brS1wE5gGd99EAv9qbX-S_2MS0nUjNPqlwEHz2t0DbN352S0KYt2skusYHn2n7y0MOLrVi-oVFsek1NaddIf_XFRAB3BI4Zj598kNSB8izrTh4t2Y32W/w640-h426/20230211_emily%20whathome%20opening%20gibsons%20gallery_12_emily%20being%20interviewed%20for%20sunshine%20coast%20newspaper_photos%20by%20tali%20(2).jpg" width="640" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Also this guy!! Michael Gurney. What a fabulous reporter!! He came fully prepared, having already checked out the show and having a bunch of really good interesting questions about it. And his article shows he actually researched this quite thoroughly. I am truly honoured to have this show written about by him. He said some interesting things about it that even helped me understand it more, myself. Here's a link to the article he published: <a href="https://www.nsnews.com/local-arts/bowen-islanders-exhibition-at-gpag-is-homeward-bound-6574236">https://www.nsnews.com/local-arts/bowen-islanders-exhibition-at-gpag-is-homeward-bound-6574236</a> <br /></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTd9B5WziSBFZrEB5AvMWNzsMNB8H1_hVLw79NccLJK-XGK4lmwe_nzxZbs14AYE4YcsCtJB8xlqhYDVvT48nUvTWAl3iOnCEfR9ie2y8AOT0oR5lwO3lZ557Vxz69PDGAH1wyyFQj93Fn3bPdVwVZyEr_DRyMkhr-6ShzW5jaazrXvkDd69WoLNeY/s5290/20230211_emily%20whathome%20opening%20gibsons%20gallery_19_amy%20adrian%20pappa_photos%20by%20tali%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3527" data-original-width="5290" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTd9B5WziSBFZrEB5AvMWNzsMNB8H1_hVLw79NccLJK-XGK4lmwe_nzxZbs14AYE4YcsCtJB8xlqhYDVvT48nUvTWAl3iOnCEfR9ie2y8AOT0oR5lwO3lZ557Vxz69PDGAH1wyyFQj93Fn3bPdVwVZyEr_DRyMkhr-6ShzW5jaazrXvkDd69WoLNeY/w640-h426/20230211_emily%20whathome%20opening%20gibsons%20gallery_19_amy%20adrian%20pappa_photos%20by%20tali%20(2).jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivEgSELaCoirnt3vnJuZhrz8bWsUKTtKReWtXoRu-dw2b_9KeAWznYgbabW2X3nNzqV51ZRbB0p-Iulz0iTSu75nfQEEjYMAy_YwUlGisGOLXBqfi5dGAiqpX73tfLU4GW4lodA4EFlYpxy8Wlr7oo3Yxofdb58MNP3ZkPXIb6TSZcQM0XjJ1a9z_i/s5587/20230211_emily%20whathome%20opening%20gibsons%20gallery_20_judi%20and%20diane_photos%20by%20tali%20(2).jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="5587" data-original-width="3725" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivEgSELaCoirnt3vnJuZhrz8bWsUKTtKReWtXoRu-dw2b_9KeAWznYgbabW2X3nNzqV51ZRbB0p-Iulz0iTSu75nfQEEjYMAy_YwUlGisGOLXBqfi5dGAiqpX73tfLU4GW4lodA4EFlYpxy8Wlr7oo3Yxofdb58MNP3ZkPXIb6TSZcQM0XjJ1a9z_i/w426-h640/20230211_emily%20whathome%20opening%20gibsons%20gallery_20_judi%20and%20diane_photos%20by%20tali%20(2).jpg" width="426" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><em>We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts.</em></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em></em><em>Nous remercions le Conseil des arts du Canada de son soutien.</em></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em>https://</em><a href="https://canadacouncil.ca"><em>canadacouncil.ca</em></a></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em></em></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxqpgLPvTmNGZOxnAce0ObKOMrzpter9HxnQqNiy6PWBXqCqoUVk1cuXHINALQWUvfQ19Nv3m-rqpFN8O0PFYstNjEBmlj0KK5gZtR_uULByoQwTPiPJs_SyDubWMGB4xXbml2undWNT4VDaMHpk1L1nWxPNieQ0Hs_cPHOjOXcDxUbAAfRatNDjXA/s577/CCA_RGB_colour_e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="106" data-original-width="577" height="59" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxqpgLPvTmNGZOxnAce0ObKOMrzpter9HxnQqNiy6PWBXqCqoUVk1cuXHINALQWUvfQ19Nv3m-rqpFN8O0PFYstNjEBmlj0KK5gZtR_uULByoQwTPiPJs_SyDubWMGB4xXbml2undWNT4VDaMHpk1L1nWxPNieQ0Hs_cPHOjOXcDxUbAAfRatNDjXA/s320/CCA_RGB_colour_e.jpg" width="320" /></a></em></div><em><br /> </em><p></p><p></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-70555548420650540442023-01-23T16:13:00.005-08:002023-02-24T21:19:18.427-08:00New Video and More Info about Upcoming Show<p>Gearing up and getting excited about this installation for Gibsons Public Art Gallery, opening February 9th! </p><p><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x3x7a5m x6prxxf xvq8zen xo1l8bm xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto"></span></p><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">The beauty of installation art is that it's an experience utterly different from the sum of its parts. You see me sharing these little videos as the months go by, but when you come to the show it will be a totally different experience. For one, you'll be walking around in a virtual forest of fabric, light, and sound. Your own movement, breath, and shadow will mix with that of the speakers. One of the things that happens is the juxtaposition of people and ideas--this is as surprising to me as it is to the viewers, because I don't do much planning in this regard. And yet, in the kaleidoscope of our community, there is deep meaning to be found in the connections and contrasts we share.</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Here's a little segment of films lined up to project into the installation. It's still very different from how it will be in the gallery, of course, but it does give a taste of some of the many home-related topics that are discussed in the show:</div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"> </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0r37J2JvNMM" width="320" youtube-src-id="0r37J2JvNMM"></iframe></div><br /> </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">I'm also happy to say that the GPAG will host an exhibition of my oil and graphite works on canvas, concurrently with the w h a t . h o m e installation, in the Eve Smart Gallery (right next to the main gallery, where the installation will be). Here's a small collection of some of the pieces that will be included, there. </div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;">Top to bottom: <br /><b>Use My Lungs and Breathe</b>--54x40 inches (triptych)<br /><b>I'll Fly Away (In the Morning)</b>--60x48 inches <br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><b>Wash Away the Rain</b>--7 rearrangeable canvases, each 4x12 inches<br /></div><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo9yA4ltyueiN2wTz0JQU0Hvgp4W8ktVqbF0Xx-89y2LQGLDC6yWo5UzdXf8hi5vKhp1ft5FddsvG69Pljzf9U00urq8enc6mhKcbXFHsifFfuTQ-IKXrGNX4uMLazbMMEqC7lNsxFHjo3ewOKjG8RHElcjQHpFHLzgx0ttK0doErauL86BwrwpEvO/s1901/gibsons%20preview%20montage.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1901" data-original-width="924" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo9yA4ltyueiN2wTz0JQU0Hvgp4W8ktVqbF0Xx-89y2LQGLDC6yWo5UzdXf8hi5vKhp1ft5FddsvG69Pljzf9U00urq8enc6mhKcbXFHsifFfuTQ-IKXrGNX4uMLazbMMEqC7lNsxFHjo3ewOKjG8RHElcjQHpFHLzgx0ttK0doErauL86BwrwpEvO/w312-h640/gibsons%20preview%20montage.jpg" width="312" /></a></div><br /><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>EXHIBITION DETAILS: </b><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">February 9 to March 5, 2023</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://gpag.ca/" target="_blank">Gibsons Public Art Gallery</a>, Gibsons, BC, Canada</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Hours: Thursdays through Mondays, 11am-4pm<br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">MEET THE ARTIST:</span></b></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"> February 11, 12-2pm</span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Gibsons installation of w h a t . h o m e is made possible by its host, the Gibsons Public Art Gallery. The promotion is with great thanks to <a href="https://thehearthartsonbowen.ca/" target="_blank">the Hearth Gallery</a> (Bowen Island/</span><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x676frb x1lkfr7t x1lbecb7 x1s688f xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto"><span style="font-size: small;">Nex̱wlélex̱wem), the <a href="https://westvanartscouncil.ca/" target="_blank">West Vancouver Community Arts Council</a>, <a href="https://www.ecuaa.ca/" target="_blank">Emily Carr Alumni Association</a>, <a href="https://www.gallerieswest.ca/" target="_blank">Galleries West</a>, <a href="https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/british-columbia/programs/northbynorthwest/cbc-north-by-northwest-1.3528186" target="_blank">CBC Radio's North by Northwest</a>, and <a href="https://www.spiltmilkgallery.com/" target="_blank">Spilt Milk Gallery</a>.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x676frb x1lkfr7t x1lbecb7 x1s688f xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><p style="text-align: center;"><em>We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts.</em></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em></em><em>Nous remercions le Conseil des arts du Canada de son soutien.</em></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em>https://</em><a href="https://canadacouncil.ca"><em>canadacouncil.ca</em></a></p><span class="x193iq5w xeuugli x13faqbe x1vvkbs x1xmvt09 x1lliihq x1s928wv xhkezso x1gmr53x x1cpjm7i x1fgarty x1943h6x xudqn12 x676frb x1lkfr7t x1lbecb7 x1s688f xzsf02u x1yc453h" dir="auto"><span style="font-size: small;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jeHDQQHe0KuNKcvFPt_5zCs368i-g2uhpEN9epZJP3wDVuOhJ1UUiDfibjbBWkc8SqmiH-33bmVUqnQhxA-P1rh3p2ZmeDUKTS10Mm9542Mu1uouNBbH7XeC_pm-vfMJetcCxK6b_g4OgViURQtZFOe-WAg5tBaP_rBm38x_ErQGX5-h-0b_KCHf/s577/CCA_RGB_colour_e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="106" data-original-width="577" height="59" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5jeHDQQHe0KuNKcvFPt_5zCs368i-g2uhpEN9epZJP3wDVuOhJ1UUiDfibjbBWkc8SqmiH-33bmVUqnQhxA-P1rh3p2ZmeDUKTS10Mm9542Mu1uouNBbH7XeC_pm-vfMJetcCxK6b_g4OgViURQtZFOe-WAg5tBaP_rBm38x_ErQGX5-h-0b_KCHf/s320/CCA_RGB_colour_e.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> </span></span></div><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p></div><p></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-75377057783410537952022-11-04T16:37:00.002-07:002023-02-24T21:18:08.619-08:00w h a t . h o m e coming to BC's Sunshine Coast!<p>With huge thanks to the <a href="https://gpag.ca/" target="_blank">Gibsons Public Art Gallery</a> and <a href="https://canadacouncil.ca/">Canada Council for the Arts</a> for putting their confidence in me, I can FINALLY announce that w h a t . h o m e will be coming home to BC, where it all began. </p><p>In 2017 I began interviewing residents of BC's west coast on the subject of 'home'. I had some idea of where the topics might go, but I was surprised again and again by the amazingly heart-full, extremely unexpected, and often challenging stories that emerged. I've discovered through this work and other interview-based projects I've done that in any cross-section of humanity there will be a deep exploration of belonging, and a desire to make the best of always surprising circumstances. This project puts this on display. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhptsE3ZlNtDdmVKDganEioj-4LYEploviySCBh9-hZD0bjIymJ299sCPgP9JpSfvbZ9g1VW9CMIdpMsQwfeCZ8tAaVTKhnL1j-TVt5em4sIGYeCPA4r-QjDPHrrt2H7BzdqBWKitM_mEYD1I5Q3uKgjBTN6hykC4qV18pL9iRm6ejBQ7qkt7OV0Oe7/s883/20180511_whathome_installation_photo-by-igor-sevcuk--c.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="479" data-original-width="883" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhptsE3ZlNtDdmVKDganEioj-4LYEploviySCBh9-hZD0bjIymJ299sCPgP9JpSfvbZ9g1VW9CMIdpMsQwfeCZ8tAaVTKhnL1j-TVt5em4sIGYeCPA4r-QjDPHrrt2H7BzdqBWKitM_mEYD1I5Q3uKgjBTN6hykC4qV18pL9iRm6ejBQ7qkt7OV0Oe7/w640-h348/20180511_whathome_installation_photo-by-igor-sevcuk--c.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>w h a t . h o m e installation in Amsterdam -- photo by Igor Sevcuk</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />The woman in this image went from living as a small child in a mud hut in Mexico to living in a mansion. She now resides with her partner and children in British Columbia, and has a lot of experience with our housing crisis, particularly as it applies to those whose mobility is challenged.<p></p><p>I've spoken with people who live rough on boats, who rent and live always on the verge of homelessness, who own property and who feel that property ownership is wrong. I've interviewed a woman who doesn't believe in citizenship, and immigrants who treasure theirs. Our experiences and struggles with home are as diverse as we are, and yet the conversation always comes down to the same thing: belonging.</p><p>I felt such a good sense of belonging in 2018 when I developed the videos into an installation at Goleb in Amsterdam with <a href="https://sevcuk.nl/" target="_blank">Igor Sevcuk</a>, with whom I attended art school, in the 1990's. He invited me to complete this project during a residency, and I was grateful for his and other artists' input in the development of the installation. This experience itself was such a gift to me! I spent time with my old friend Igor, his wonderful artist partner <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=savCcVrY6Q0" target="_blank">Go Eun Im</a>, my own partner and assistant Markus Roemer, and developed a project that means so much to me, in the country where I first studied art. I've never been truly at home in the Netherlands, despite having quite a bit of family and history there. But this experience reminded me of the things that make us home: community, acceptance, and a feeling that what we do has value. This project is all of that for me.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfV-ciKk-GLdTwVv__4IzxMqS3qikQY5Ghk0KtL6pBmqKatE0xhjyROH6ICROZQuTgcbfI1WDdDnkryB9B0DoOw0CiZ1L5Zg_7XwSiKvdOtuNKkfzUpvMsgHu9TvLRjgjG8sGAselLXATkSn4jCIBV2oqZ-o0mK8RoLezmAMSPFCIMOpyV4q-6drnZ/s6000/20180510_amsterdam_whathome%20setup_019e.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6000" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfV-ciKk-GLdTwVv__4IzxMqS3qikQY5Ghk0KtL6pBmqKatE0xhjyROH6ICROZQuTgcbfI1WDdDnkryB9B0DoOw0CiZ1L5Zg_7XwSiKvdOtuNKkfzUpvMsgHu9TvLRjgjG8sGAselLXATkSn4jCIBV2oqZ-o0mK8RoLezmAMSPFCIMOpyV4q-6drnZ/w640-h426/20180510_amsterdam_whathome%20setup_019e.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Igor and Markus during installation.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Would you like to see more? Well you can! Over the months leading up to the Gibsons installation of w h a t . h o m e I'll be sharing some of the clips from the project via these two feeds: <br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.instagram.com/what.home/" target="_blank">w h a t . h o m e instagram feed</a>
<br /><a href="https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCIVRehU7Ta82Ta20yFiz0Vw/videos" target="_blank">w h a t . h o m e YouTube channel</a></p><p>Please do follow along; share with your communities, and of course... come to the installation in February, where you can walk among the landscapes and people of our west coast and add your own silhouette and stories to the project.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://gpag.ca/" target="_blank">Gibsons Public Art Gallery</a>, Gibsons, BC, Canada</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Feb 9--Mar 5, 2023</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/b9eU4fVqkbU" width="320" youtube-src-id="b9eU4fVqkbU"></iframe></div><br /><p style="text-align: center;"><em>We acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts.</em></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em></em><em>Nous remercions le Conseil des arts du Canada de son soutien.</em></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em>https://</em><a href="https://canadacouncil.ca"><em>canadacouncil.ca</em></a></p><p><em></em></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb5LqT_7zuJHGU6rs_5sXTDKa6XrXtLb041dY9hOAZ9_o0zx9rGnDwFwLZhbdYOQd2x2A687ZTUre6ThgMbwUHSt116uj8LcYVkhsWmfXmZuaQjJMS_wjfpS4VTOn1EYHsLRMMqwpRtiXwQz_EgdI2kvgsPW5CdmxVAOGEaPJjq80KTb36fhgsQpbE/s577/CCA_RGB_colour_e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="106" data-original-width="577" height="59" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb5LqT_7zuJHGU6rs_5sXTDKa6XrXtLb041dY9hOAZ9_o0zx9rGnDwFwLZhbdYOQd2x2A687ZTUre6ThgMbwUHSt116uj8LcYVkhsWmfXmZuaQjJMS_wjfpS4VTOn1EYHsLRMMqwpRtiXwQz_EgdI2kvgsPW5CdmxVAOGEaPJjq80KTb36fhgsQpbE/s320/CCA_RGB_colour_e.jpg" width="320" /></a></em></div><em><br /><br /> </em><p></p><p><em> </em><em></em></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-29716532226631574582022-09-18T20:51:00.000-07:002022-09-18T20:51:36.352-07:00Learning everything all over again--only different again, too...<p></p><div dir="auto"><div class="d2hqwtrz r227ecj6 ez8dtbzv gt60zsk1" data-ad-comet-preview="message" data-ad-preview="message" id="jsc_c_1ch"><div class="alzwoclg cqf1kptm siwo0mpr gu5uzgus"><div class="jroqu855 nthtkgg5"><span class="gvxzyvdx aeinzg81 t7p7dqev gh25dzvf exr7barw b6ax4al1 gem102v4 ncib64c9 mrvwc6qr sx8pxkcf f597kf1v cpcgwwas m2nijcs8 hxfwr5lz k1z55t6l oog5qr5w tes86rjd pbevjfx6 ztn2w49o" dir="auto"><div class="m8h3af8h l7ghb35v kjdc1dyq kmwttqpk gh25dzvf n3t5jt4f"><div dir="auto" style="text-align: start;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiil-pIWjFhSzvpEhnp0A7O5jEwV4n6_Ym2FTspZhvGjewENPur7R4wDEHw1w0tNVFcvbvsummCUGEWi_3ykBPFnY7_CsUH7TPqGzjlV7zxAIF1M3fbeuZt7A13L4yj-lmw8HjT46YnOQO0f_Kr9fw8DN5UKZFzM-T3_-FZ0pieO6xEIh6XB-RuUjj/s2250/306768228_1274843256594539_1447696814282409873_n.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2247" data-original-width="2250" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiil-pIWjFhSzvpEhnp0A7O5jEwV4n6_Ym2FTspZhvGjewENPur7R4wDEHw1w0tNVFcvbvsummCUGEWi_3ykBPFnY7_CsUH7TPqGzjlV7zxAIF1M3fbeuZt7A13L4yj-lmw8HjT46YnOQO0f_Kr9fw8DN5UKZFzM-T3_-FZ0pieO6xEIh6XB-RuUjj/s320/306768228_1274843256594539_1447696814282409873_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>1994, Royal Academy of Visual Art, the Hague, Netherlands: My first painting instructor showed up to my studio during the first week and told me to get rid of the acrylics. He pointed to a painting sitting drying under the table, and described the dullness; the surface quickly losing any and all beauty it might have possessed just minutes before. So I did, and have been bonded to a series of ever-more-ecologically-friendly oil paints and mediums ever since.
<br /><br />I've used oils for nearly thirty years now, and I LOVE them. I love the smell, the feeling of them, the way they layer and all the ways I can scratch and draw through them. I grew up as a painter with oils... and in less than two weeks I'll be participating in a live painting event where oils are not an option (not allowed due to VOC's, and also because paintings must be dry and hung by morning!) So here I am teaching myself a new skill in a hurry!!! It turns out very little of my painting style and technique translates to acrylic, so I'm having to reinvent myself. <br /><br />Anyway, here's my beautiful mama in one of her happy places. She's my first attempt at finding a new style and technique using only acrylics. It didn't go at all the way I thought it would, but I'm getting somewhere I like, anyway. And it's already dry!<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzEv9VWzR5HjkvAcaiLvTfcVo24ycGQfyIXCVuwm7WXteOsS4j_I4hmkPqnL19uxzRe1pk0O3CHQ7xjgBe-8w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br /></div></span></div></div></div></div>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-40373082864214361742022-06-20T08:52:00.004-07:002022-06-20T09:19:52.624-07:00The Unboxing Project at Sainte Croix de Mareuil<p></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzWial-cE4I-PlxgIC_L50wQUIxttSFoP5jm1Vmdp_O9pWXWIv3KZgHystKIp6FlO46-jAcfXzq3rnkOWWkM_QJZDlqL9LDyuQW12G7tN0N2c0wKGa0OoxDwLWQ6dzVykBVjs3EZp-p8QjIFetGRc5Sl5tkUhjbXy6X5HtlDbPrYm05szTbDs5kt5/s640/20210805_un-boxing%20at%20plas%20bodfa%20photo%20from%20Julie%20Upmeyer_003.JPG" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="426" data-original-width="640" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzWial-cE4I-PlxgIC_L50wQUIxttSFoP5jm1Vmdp_O9pWXWIv3KZgHystKIp6FlO46-jAcfXzq3rnkOWWkM_QJZDlqL9LDyuQW12G7tN0N2c0wKGa0OoxDwLWQ6dzVykBVjs3EZp-p8QjIFetGRc5Sl5tkUhjbXy6X5HtlDbPrYm05szTbDs5kt5/w400-h266/20210805_un-boxing%20at%20plas%20bodfa%20photo%20from%20Julie%20Upmeyer_003.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Un-boxing at Plas Bodfa (Wales) photo from Julie Upmeyer</i></td></tr></tbody></table>It's been interesting to follow the Un-boxing project on its travels so far. <a href="http://www.gudrunfilipska.com/" target="_blank">Gudrun Filipska's</a> Arts Territory Exchange creation, a box of contributions from artists all over the world, has been making its way slowly from one exhibition space to another, and as an artist participant, I get to witness the remarks of curators along the journey. So here I link you through to curator Jane Linden's essay from <span>La Vieille Closerie, Sainte-Croix-de-Mareuil in Aquitaine: </span> <b><i>"<a href="https://www.artsterritoryexchange.com/unboxing-at-sainte-croix-de-mareuil" target="_blank">Curatorial Reflections on Un-boxing at Sainte-Croix-de-Mareuil by Jane Linden</a>". </i></b><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><a class="gofk2cf1 t5a262vz py34i1dx" href="https://www.artsterritoryexchange.com/unboxing-at-sainte-croix-de-mareuil"><span><br /></span></a><span>Jane has also posted some photos from the box's visit to France on her instagram: </span><a class="gofk2cf1 t5a262vz py34i1dx" href="https://www.instagram.com/lavieillecloserie/"><span>https://www.instagram.com/lavieillecloserie/</span></a><br /><br /></p><p><b><i></i></b></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnxdCWLkMjwf4xNy6DbI8ocBOlMihpexflQOtS_WVvlWGgns_QOKkRrA4AfeMVXHgR5TQwP45spJMXWjquvhDCsuoMzoyzqgDWo622o7RhPUjdDpxoyNPpsgDoIhp18oQsn1EedEhcR6Ekx4hFcghHS_m7IaFVZpTwrXjkJxr0cuPeV3j86wnWMfPh/s5472/20210805_un-boxing%20at%20plas%20bodfa%20photo%20from%20Julie%20Upmeyer_002.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnxdCWLkMjwf4xNy6DbI8ocBOlMihpexflQOtS_WVvlWGgns_QOKkRrA4AfeMVXHgR5TQwP45spJMXWjquvhDCsuoMzoyzqgDWo622o7RhPUjdDpxoyNPpsgDoIhp18oQsn1EedEhcR6Ekx4hFcghHS_m7IaFVZpTwrXjkJxr0cuPeV3j86wnWMfPh/w640-h426/20210805_un-boxing%20at%20plas%20bodfa%20photo%20from%20Julie%20Upmeyer_002.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>process of Un-boxing at Plas Bodfa photo from Julie Upmeyer</i></td></tr></tbody></table><b><br /><i><br /></i></b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgIEHcPJcJ8ekvG0kEFqm0pFLh96yPSI4vZ04AhfnYHtJYIhwLK15pDvNF8xaSNJdu1s76-Vh6heAxMCyrzkw8RqY4pMQ05c0OGXme886IP2o1St7MLBNQ9c9N2dvg0kPNy-bEStUh7cFxQkweD97RnD6sLsvNYHFzSWz9bbuUGPS68Slv1GRR0A6X/s5472/20210805_un-boxing%20at%20plas%20bodfa%20photo%20from%20Julie%20Upmeyer_001e.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgIEHcPJcJ8ekvG0kEFqm0pFLh96yPSI4vZ04AhfnYHtJYIhwLK15pDvNF8xaSNJdu1s76-Vh6heAxMCyrzkw8RqY4pMQ05c0OGXme886IP2o1St7MLBNQ9c9N2dvg0kPNy-bEStUh7cFxQkweD97RnD6sLsvNYHFzSWz9bbuUGPS68Slv1GRR0A6X/w640-h426/20210805_un-boxing%20at%20plas%20bodfa%20photo%20from%20Julie%20Upmeyer_001e.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>part of my own contribution to Un-boxing, displayed at Plas Bodfa photo from Julie Upmeyer</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-83738830534684051852022-05-23T15:19:00.002-07:002022-05-23T16:07:30.676-07:00Do You Really Want Your Kid to Be an Artist?<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlQ6lq_NrAx_ZQ5vhz0gCPeo8Z-0gPrhslNvIgskVWoiY2TX1l6In7qw7vyNZTJUoR0_UCdmFqHQz1ZnWxuEHr93gtEdp1kqoK6YHURFVJQGUi_dE9vcESuiKFuidynj1d6vDFq_jOFYQItzSWP4j8o7oaYiPt7Czi3z8PYwX5WesCZ0QbdcUZ3pNq/s1160/img20220503_14455483.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1160" data-original-width="521" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlQ6lq_NrAx_ZQ5vhz0gCPeo8Z-0gPrhslNvIgskVWoiY2TX1l6In7qw7vyNZTJUoR0_UCdmFqHQz1ZnWxuEHr93gtEdp1kqoK6YHURFVJQGUi_dE9vcESuiKFuidynj1d6vDFq_jOFYQItzSWP4j8o7oaYiPt7Czi3z8PYwX5WesCZ0QbdcUZ3pNq/w288-h640/img20220503_14455483.jpg" width="288" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Me at 7, trying to be an artist.</i></td></tr></tbody></table>When I was a kid, I wanted to be an artist. Or a botanist, or a hair-dresser. My parents and grandparents gave me wonderful art supplies, and my father even made me a palette with a hole in it for my thumb, and positioned the kitchen stool in front of the wall of our trailer for me to use as a painting stool. That’s me in the photo, in the early nineteen-eighties, feeling wonderful and accomplished, but with absolutely no idea of what it meant to “be an artist”. <br /><br /><h2 style="text-align: left;">So What, Exactly, <i>Is</i> an Artist?</h2> I'm an artist, now. Twenty-five years and two kids after I got my degree in visual arts, my career is built on helping people reach beyond societal expectations to un-silence themselves, and connect genuinely with the world we inhabit. I do paint, and I do have gallery exhibitions, but I also tromp in the forests, use materials I never imagined would one day be called “materials”, and make art I never imagined would be called “art.” The focus of my work is to connect people with our own deeply-held stories; as an explorative learning consultant I also encourage parents and teachers to do the same with their children. It turns out art was just a vehicle for something more important to me. And I’m still an artist. <br /><br />The stereotype of the famous artist making masterpieces in his (he's almost always male, white and powerful) studio has almost nothing to do with a successful art career. I wish somebody had explained this to me when I was a kid. Picasso was an abusive, deceitful creep, and we don't have to appreciate his work to be artists. There’s SO much more wonderfulness in being an artist than I had imagined! So much more diversity! <br /><br /> Artists are responsible for not only the beauty we see in our human-made world, but also for the connection we make with neighbours, for the realizations we make about our own lives and feelings when we watch movies, listen to music, or read books. Artists determine how easy it is to use the devices we buy. Through media, artists determine which devices and foods and colours will be more popular. They understand the influence of shapes, colours, sound, movement and texture on our emotions, and... like it or not, our emotions govern much of what we do. Artists are powerful. A “career in the arts” is a massively open-ended term, but also, having a grounding in artistic practice and theory means a deeper foundation or influence in any career we choose. Moreover, having the ability to express ourselves is an important foundation of meaningful connection. <br /><br />I like to imagine a world full of people who were encouraged in this way. How happy, satisfied, and valuable could we all be? How would our chosen paths be enhanced by a facility with self-expression and material, sound, or movement exploration? Do you really want your kid to be an artist? And if so, how can you support them?<br /><br /><h2 style="text-align: left;"> What NOT to do: Unsolicited "Help" </h2>It's incredibly easy to break kids' confidence in art (or anything) and less easy to build it. As with so much in life, the first thing we can do to "help" our kids succeed is to get out of their way. It's not easy, especially when we're watching them struggle with something we know there's an easy solution for. But we zip our mouths, find something else to occupy our attention, and trust that they'll get where they need to go. And never, ever critique. <br /><br />Criticism is more likely to break our confidence than to teach us something, and a shattered confidence is a massive barrier to success. My daughter is a writer, and was recently working on her second novel. I edited her first novel for her, judiciously reporting back on only glaring typos and missing punctuation. It was an amazing realistic fiction coming-of-age story, written from the bold heart of a young girl whose grandfather had recently died. I love it so much I heartily recommend it to readers of all ages. Her next novel, though, was a departure from the world she knew and understood so well, and required a steep learning curve. It was an epic fantasy, full of people from different cultures and a massively complex magical world... all of which she dutifully researched and developed before writing. But then she was challenged by trying to fit this enormous complexity into a single story. And when it came time for me to edit her book, I didn't hold back with the criticisms and suggestions. Some chapters were confusing, some events seemed out of place, and mostly I was confused by the timeline. Sure, she was only fourteen, but I just <i>knew</i> she was capable, so I critiqued! Despite my attempts at being gentle with my criticism, it all seemed insurmountable to her, and after a few attempts at editing, she abandoned the book. To her credit, she's keeping an open mind about the possibility of writing it in the future, but unfortunately I feel I threw a hammer at a beautiful glass sculpture she was creating, that actually she just needed more time with, alone. Without my critiquing. <br /><br />So that's how <i>not</i> to build confidence. Just think of all the ways we're doing that, in every part of our kids' lives, and even our own. So many of us have an overachieving inner critic. And a culturally-supported fear that that critic is what's keeping us on the straight-and-narrow. But you know what? It's not. What would happen if we just didn't correct our kids? Well I have some experience with that, now, both in teaching and parenting. It's ridiculously hard to shut up my inner critic sometimes, but when I do, the kids thrive. <br /><br />My daughter is truly an excellent writer--so much so, that in her frantic enthusiasm she charges ahead, forgetting to put periods at the ends of sentences, capitals on names, or sometimes misspelling words. She edits herself, and (as we all are prone to doing) sees right through her mistakes to read what she intended to write. What if she asks me to edit and I just ignore those mistakes? I've experimented with that. Sometimes she looks over her work later and discovers her mistakes. Sometimes she puts it aside for a few months, grows and learns, and comes back to it to realize she would now write it differently. Sometimes, even, she submits or publishes something with mistakes. And you know what? That's just fine! I frequently go back to my own work from years earlier, and see how much I've learned and grown since my thirties--and yet my work was appreciated then, as well. Have you any idea how many typos I still find in my writing? Tons. I'm especially accomplished at missing words and totally redundant examples. Sometimes I don't even bother to correct them. Because they're part of my humanity. Our kids deserve that space to be human, too.<br /><br /><h2 style="text-align: left;"> Honouring Growth </h2><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiOWPS3JZmI8K1aO4Xl5u9Y4z7eeaM7cASAS3EhYM8taXdN8058QxqaM_-G1Y-0HeYD6bet__ZVeI21XEG_78K_eXgqGVaVJkFnEFbA94SyUWBiRAsoVOGuC9tsiwU94ot7MPsAMa0QFIwodDa43ZYIetHyej4_kq4UHAAwXqCBBmtAVQuzqRRVzpQ/s2816/20090228_rhiannon-painting_05.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2112" data-original-width="2816" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiOWPS3JZmI8K1aO4Xl5u9Y4z7eeaM7cASAS3EhYM8taXdN8058QxqaM_-G1Y-0HeYD6bet__ZVeI21XEG_78K_eXgqGVaVJkFnEFbA94SyUWBiRAsoVOGuC9tsiwU94ot7MPsAMa0QFIwodDa43ZYIetHyej4_kq4UHAAwXqCBBmtAVQuzqRRVzpQ/w400-h300/20090228_rhiannon-painting_05.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Rhiannon, age 5, experimenting with paints.</i></td></tr></tbody></table>As a visual artist, I love to look back and see all my mistakes. I look at portraits I painted years ago, and wonder why I did them the way I did; sometimes I also notice things I thought were problems at the time, that now inform new directions in my work. Growth is where it's <i>at</i>, people! Otherwise what are we living for? In some deep place, children know this, as from the moment they're born they challenge themselves to grow by exploring different tastes, movements, and expressions. <br /><br /> Children, like my daughter in the photo, above, want to represent their world. But it isn't always as we might expect! As parents, we have a choice about whether to show our children how to draw things the way we think it should be done, or to allow them to discover their own ways, through experimentation. My son was once drawing a whole page full of lines, and I asked him what he was drawing (something I've since learned not to do), and he told me it was a drum. I was totally perplexed, and asked him where the parts of the drum were. This was a boy who had no problem drawing a circle--why would he choose to represent a drum with a whole lot of unconnected lines? "It's the sound of the drum." He said. <i>Boom.</i> <br /><br /> He didn't need my assumptions. He needed my appreciation, and the freedom to keep exploring. As long as we respond to our kids' experiments with curiosity and loving encouragement, they'll continue to know that where they are on their journey of growth is perfect. And that will be the impetus they need to keep growing with enthusiasm. I have no idea how my son's drawings of sound influenced his life, but considering he now is employed as a visual artist and makes music to accompany his personal visual projects, I'm relieved I didn't get in the way of that particular growth pattern by showing him "how to draw a drum."<br /><br /><h2 style="text-align: left;"> Asking Helpful Questions </h2>I realized during my children's earliest years that questions like "what are you drawing?" are extremely limiting. In that question I have determined that my child must be trying to represent a specific thing, and the assumption is usually that it's a visual representation of something we know. But what if it's not? What if it's our children's experimentation with colours, shapes or lines? Or sound, as in the drum example? That kind of experimentation--without intent to satisfy outside demands--is essential for learning to use materials. Professional artists actually bill for material experimentation; it's called "research". We even sometimes mount gallery exhibitions composed entirely of experimental output--often to great acclaim. So why would I limit the possibilities of my own child's artistic output? <br /><br /> But we want to ask questions! We know it's important to engage and encourage! So how can we ask questions that promote growth-dialogue about art (or anything), without limiting our children's growth or expression?<br /><br />Think about the words in the question "What are you drawing?" The word 'what' carries the assumption they're trying to represent an object. The word 'drawing' means we assume they're focused on the output of the material in their hands, as opposed to the feeling, taste, smell, or movement of it. How are these assumptions limiting the range of acceptable answers? <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi70DrY5F4xLSJWn9gMHfUGqXM8o-EtP2s2X6cjzjUFpIaM-tZWzkxUl5YWkJ32hhclaxRn3YMbo3JoFjn6JtfFfOZ64_6TeAkYG1vbyMo7RsCc_bGOVBUOUbnOrxnqXGmFazEruMsFW-JINxUDDehn4fsCn9m6ECBr_sDrymHWiNqKV0VvY0RSobA/s3510/img20220515_21294898.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2550" data-original-width="3510" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi70DrY5F4xLSJWn9gMHfUGqXM8o-EtP2s2X6cjzjUFpIaM-tZWzkxUl5YWkJ32hhclaxRn3YMbo3JoFjn6JtfFfOZ64_6TeAkYG1vbyMo7RsCc_bGOVBUOUbnOrxnqXGmFazEruMsFW-JINxUDDehn4fsCn9m6ECBr_sDrymHWiNqKV0VvY0RSobA/w640-h464/img20220515_21294898.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i> Drawing by Taliesin, age 3.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br />Maybe we have a kid who is happy to contradict us, and says, "I'm not drawing anything. I'm dancing the pen," or, as in my son’s drawing, above, “Nothing. I didn’t tell you.” (<i>I learned a lot about parenting from that bold rejection.</i>) But more likely, our kid wants to please us; to learn from our example, and will find a suitable answer, like, "some lines," or as my daughter used to do, look at a bunch of lines she was experimenting with and come up with a wild explanation like, "it's a dog on a house with the family having dinner." It's tragically very common that kids learn to minimize themselves to match what they perceive coming from adults. I've seen plenty of kids who were making successful attempts at depicting what might have been people or animals declare that they were “just scribbling.” Why? Because maybe they feared hearing our criticisms, or maybe we've previously defined their drawings of animals as 'scribbling', or maybe, because their own inner critic is already developed enough to silence their voice. <br /><br /> Adults are notoriously bad at asking kids questions, and kids generally have rote answers ready to respond to each of them: How old are you? How is school? What are you making? What is your favourite colour/subject/sport/etc.? How are we so uninspired?! These questions aren't about engaging with kids or developing rapport; they're <i>expected</i>. What if, instead of asking what they're drawing, we invite them to tell about what they're doing? This is an open invitation to consider what they're doing and talk about it. It's up to us to be open to hearing their response, no matter how long, unexpected, or confusing it may be. Not all questions will be helpful for all kids in all situations, but through practice we can become better at asking good questions. Here's a list of interesting open-ended questions to use in engaging kids to talk about their art:<br /><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Interesting! Can you tell me about this?</li><li>Does this have a story or feeling?</li><li>How do you feel about what you're doing?</li><li>Show me how you like to use [material]...</li><li>What do you think about the materials you're using?</li><li>Are there any other materials you'd like to use? </li></ul><h2> Materials </h2>Ah how I love shopping for materials!! And hoarding them!! Don't we all?! How much of our parenting waste is comprised of once-used adorable kits that were soon replaced by something newer and more exciting? I won't go on at length about this, because I've previously written a whole article about <a href="http://www.emilyartist.ca/2018/08/supplies-and-practice-of-open-ended-art.html">Supplies and Practice of Open-Ended Art Exploration</a>. But suffice it to say that well-chosen art materials are the foundation of good artistic experience. And I don't mean the expensive stuff. I mean well-chosen. Materials can be anything from kitchen supplies to mud and sticks outside, to a mish-mash of mark-making, gluing, cutting and melting tools. The important feature of all of these things is that they do not come with instructions or intended uses. How we present and use materials is much more important than what they are. <br /><br /><h2 style="text-align: left;"> Modelling </h2>From the moment they were born, and possibly earlier, our kids have looked to us to lead them. The important thing to remember about modelling to our children is that it's happening all the time; not just when we do it intentionally. Our kids see our hesitation and fear with art as much as they see our enthusiasm. They see us avoid trying new things, and they see us when we courageously do them, and when we have small successes and failures. They emulate not only our actions but also the way we emotionally deal with these things. <br /><br /> With this in mind, the absolute best thing we can do for our children is to use any and all materials available to us to explore creatively, <i>for our own happiness</i>. That last bit is important. Kids can smell a fraud from a mile away, so we have to be creative in the way that we want to be. Otherwise we're just teaching our kids to put on a show for someone else's benefit, and that's nothing about authenticity. <br /><br /> And we should stretch ourselves. If we're accustomed to buying craft kits and following the instructions, we should absolutely try to break that habit (more on why in the materials article, above) and try experimenting with new materials. We can also stretch our definition of art-making. Try experimental baking! Try sewing or crocheting! Try putting on your favourite music, getting dressed up in fancy dress or costumes and dancing your heart out! Try painting your whole self and rolling around on an old sheet, outside. In the rain! It doesn't matter what or how you engage in art, just as long as you do it. And if your output isn't what you expect? Even better. Keep experimenting. You're modelling growth to your children. <br /><br /> Living a life full of joyful exploration and learning, ourselves, is the best way we can teach our children. <br /> <br /><h2 style="text-align: left;">Nurturing Important Skills</h2><p style="text-align: left;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitU-KaqoOY_aYjnul1-PEs_QoJcAqb-V7EHa0S2cQ5WY6sZnP5J_YXIJTKwTz59xTBthGEnbppw8FHzUAQryeUKMnRZ-ww9siMlm1-JRuKVrhs3pfVKzu4C_ZaGNQT_RYtfuCvFYuHWNFapO_7ShazKV_LhrHQMRZBVUgVx69UpY87pvG1PF3cDPDY/s1406/img20220503_21071399.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1406" data-original-width="969" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitU-KaqoOY_aYjnul1-PEs_QoJcAqb-V7EHa0S2cQ5WY6sZnP5J_YXIJTKwTz59xTBthGEnbppw8FHzUAQryeUKMnRZ-ww9siMlm1-JRuKVrhs3pfVKzu4C_ZaGNQT_RYtfuCvFYuHWNFapO_7ShazKV_LhrHQMRZBVUgVx69UpY87pvG1PF3cDPDY/w276-h400/img20220503_21071399.jpg" width="276" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Me, age 4, being an artist.</i></td></tr></tbody></table>We’re culturally trained to associate specific skills and attributes with art: dancers should be thin and flexible, visual artists should be able to draw realistic depictions with technical skills like shading, perspective, and colour theory; musicians should first learn to read music and do scales. Unless we’re born talented, of course.<br /> <br /> Oh <i>hell</i>, I hate the word ‘talent’! It's such a harmful concept. I wasn't born talented; I <i>developed</i> some skills in accurate rendering of my observations by having a keen interest in observing how things are put together; how the light plays on them, and being given room to experiment with materials throughout my life. It was easy for me because I loved it, just like my daughter loves telling stories, so writing is easy for her to learn. We develop the skills we need when we realize we need them, and as long as we're not discouraged from exploring them. <br /><br /> As parents and teachers, we need to help build foundational skills for life, and trust that those material skills will come when needed. As an artist, I owe a huge amount of my career satisfaction to some less-concrete skills and passions: <br /><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>seeing the big picture in life, art, etc.</li><li>a keen interest in social phenomena</li><li>a passion for exploration and discovery </li></ul><p style="text-align: left;"><br />We really can't know what skills will be foundational for each of the unique kids we work with. Neither can we know the cultural landscape our kids will grow into, nor what careers will be common, when they’re grown. Who knew, when I was in art school twenty-five years ago that people would be making virtual and even invisible art to sell online, one day? Who knew I’d raise a son who gets paid to make thousands of geographically plausible planet renderings by using procedural generation techniques? His art process looks like a bunch of visual programming. I could never have predicted this, never mind taught him these skills. So when trying to support kids I parent and teach, I try to encourage growth of all sorts of skills. Life is not divided by subject. Careers are not determined by skill-acquisition. It's all interconnected. The more we learn, the more we can learn. <br /><br /></p><h2 style="text-align: left;">So Do You? <i>Really</i>? </h2>Yes. I guess I really do want my kids to be artists--however that looks for them, and however it looks in the future we can only dream of. I want them to explore all the materials and develop all the skills I can’t even fathom right now. I want them to change the definition of the word “artist” to mean new and wonderful things, and I want them to keep on growing as the world grows, around them. <br /><br />Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-42501994535575024702022-01-28T09:29:00.003-08:002022-01-28T09:29:42.511-08:00One Solar Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhXJawbRhzMjowNTluf9m9EpUtcBwbe4Y7tgJoRV3hBqiazqgSg27UUO9Mow5cZx4oAgp4Ld1qbpk0hQmtX2uNQlGTQbkgciYHaNcjBMYinw6LJLf0fueua9zyk7gAnkEVKbFWeoKAp9zs2N0ayYwLSual8xbqRTbS5bT22FX0SR6WVIJjhZKxi7MdX=s1280" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1280" height="450" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhXJawbRhzMjowNTluf9m9EpUtcBwbe4Y7tgJoRV3hBqiazqgSg27UUO9Mow5cZx4oAgp4Ld1qbpk0hQmtX2uNQlGTQbkgciYHaNcjBMYinw6LJLf0fueua9zyk7gAnkEVKbFWeoKAp9zs2N0ayYwLSual8xbqRTbS5bT22FX0SR6WVIJjhZKxi7MdX=w640-h450" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>I've
begun a new project! </p>
<p>One Solar Year is an observation of our shared, fragile, resilient
humanity over the course of (surprise!) one solar year! I began the
project at the previous winter solstice, and plan to write over a
hundred poems before the next winter solstice, each inspired and
combined with a portrait of wildness around my home. Our human
experience isn't separate from the ecology around us; it's completely
integral to it. The dewdrops, the haggard plants emerging from the
snow, the wilting blossoms in the heat dome; they're part of our
psyche, even when we don't notice them. I'm noticing them.</p>
<p>One Solar Year is an Instagram project, which may or may not
become a book in the future. If you'd like to follow it, go here:
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/u/3/#">https://www.instagram.com/onesolaryear/</a></p>
<p> Thank you for your support. 🧡
</p>
<p style="line-height: 100%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><br />
</p>
Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-54062366740784397302022-01-24T19:53:00.003-08:002022-01-26T15:01:22.076-08:00Stay-At-Home-Feminist-Mom: Why I Traded my Early Art Career for the Privilege of Parenting My Children<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4Vf1IE1S6rjd68623_AaqVx5DKy3nm3647WGxBCd0QMRbomFD_fbXfdj-GfC2JE1KNUuG63jhcLWM1OQMofB18K6EDZ8kJeqSBj7Iurb0lmiN3WPpQkC9G0Wsnr8T3MYShu1qeEnVlXx-Zm5Ay7ObePIj207aMvYjO7njvIEfCSYRDtViv0pYWnnv=s3072" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2304" data-original-width="3072" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4Vf1IE1S6rjd68623_AaqVx5DKy3nm3647WGxBCd0QMRbomFD_fbXfdj-GfC2JE1KNUuG63jhcLWM1OQMofB18K6EDZ8kJeqSBj7Iurb0lmiN3WPpQkC9G0Wsnr8T3MYShu1qeEnVlXx-Zm5Ay7ObePIj207aMvYjO7njvIEfCSYRDtViv0pYWnnv=w640-h480" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Visual and film artist Lidia Patriasz paints the silhouette of my mother, Lyn van Lidth de Jeude, during a performance of my work, SuperMAMA, 2010. All the women who participated in this production were mothers; most were also visual artists or musicians, and these two were also preschool teachers. Photo by Adrian van Lidth de Jeude.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br />As a teen, I never really thought about becoming a mother. Finding
the elusive “true love” — yes! But not kids. I was going to find a man
who was supportive of my political views (and would understand there is
nothing actually “political” about equal rights), and spend my life
busting up the patriarchy with gusto! Through the amazing art career I
had planned, I was going to save us from climate change AND our
degrading societal norms, by showing the world what absolute tools for
the patriarchy we’ve been, and getting us out from under the shoe of the
Man. Yeah.<p></p><p class="graf graf--p" name="27bd">So… that didn’t go quite as planned. My man was not <i class="markup--em markup--p-em">un</i>supportive,
he was just mild-mannered and uninterested in the big angry mission I
was on. But he loved me. And also: hormones. Somehow my hormones
side-swiped my passionate goals, so that suddenly, and for a few years,
there was nothing more important to me than having babies. (My teenaged
self gets whiplash here: HUH?!) So I had my baby, and determined when he
was nearly two that it was time to go back to my career… or have
another baby. I chose that latter. The timing of this choice coincided
with our first child’s registration for preschool.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="d291">Preschool
is such a wonderful thing! These devoted people take our kids so we can
go back to the work of tearing down the patriarchy! My mother in law
tells of the glorious day she left both children at preschool, and
walked away with her body upright for the first time in years! It’s the
place you go to drop off your beloveds for a beautiful day of
mind-building play and learning, and you — the newly freed mother — go
back to your world-changing career!! YES!! (I was SO naive.)</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="efed">In
my case, the first two years of preschool were spent back and forth
between nursing my youngest and tending to the eldest while he very
slowly acclimated to a system that never worked for him: school. I said
he acclimated. He never thrived. By the time my youngest entered
preschool (where she absolutely did thrive), my job became accompanying
my eldest to his Kindergarten, where he continued not to thrive.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="1808">It
wasn’t a heartfelt thinking-through that led me to leave my career
behind. It was just circumstance. I could never have left my son in that
world that wasn’t serving him, and homeschool (unschooling, in our
case), seemed like the best option. Nobody picks the second best option
for their kids if they can help it. My husband and I rarely even talked
about our life as a choice, and when we did, it was only that I
apologized for not making any money, and that he reassured me my work
with the children was equally important. I had found the equality I’d
been fighting for: not in equal pay, but in being equally valued — at
least by my partner.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="379e">Financially,
staying home with my kids was certainly a sacrifice. On one income for
the foreseeable future, we abandoned our dreams of owning our own home.
We are incredibly lucky in being able to rent from my parents, which has
meant we have a kind of home security unavailable to most renters,
today. But it was a mouldy and rotten home, and has necessitated over a
decade of my husband’s free weekends and vacation time spent rebuilding
(he’s still not finished, actually). So we sacrificed free family time,
as well. Of course all this meant that unlike many of our kids’ friends’
families, we rarely had money for vacations, new clothes, or sports and
arts programs.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="0fa0">What we do have
is an amazing attachment. That alone, and the benefits I knew it would
have for my children’s lives, was enough to keep me home. It was enough
to make every sacrifice of money, freedom, and career worthwhile. And I
was so passionate about my work as a mother that it really became my
life. I volunteered at various family-related organizations, served on
and chaired various boards in my community, and founded and ran a few
programs, all geared towards supporting healthy families in our
community. I somehow never even saw the irony of becoming a
stay-at-home-mom, after my passionately feminist youth, until people
began pointing it out to me, as my kids grew older, and I continued
staying home. It seems it’s reasonable for a feminist to have kids and
attachment parent them, but then apparently one should put them in
school and get back to work on smashing the patriarchy.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="6f2a">Well
hold on! What if my work as a mother IS smashing the patriarchy?! Is
feminism now relegated to single, childless women, or those who leave
their kids in the care of others? What does that say about our respect
for other women? Day-care workers and teachers are some of the forgotten
sacrifices in this equation, disrespected in wages, benefits AND the
mainstream feminist viewpoint. Like stay-at-home-mothers, they’re the
people feminism blindly relies on to raise the next generation of
feminists, while feminists are out doing “more important” things.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="7e94">In the process of changing the world, there is NOTHING more powerful than raising children.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="3826">The
way we raise our children determines how successful each generation of
women will be at improving our lot. When caregivers aren’t valued as
much as our economy values shareholders and industry-builders, we all
lose. That goes for daycare staff, teachers, AND stay-at-home-mothers
and homeschooling parents. Many stay-at-home-mothers are the volunteers
in our communities who make the programs that support women and
children. </p><p class="graf graf--p" name="01d9">And all that is not to
ignore the unbelievable power of setting an example. As parents, we are
the greatest teachers our children will ever have. When they’re sixty
they’ll find themselves blindly doing what they saw us doing. There is
no such thing as “do what I say, not what I do”… our children will <i class="markup--em markup--p-em">always</i>
do what we do. So when they see us living powerful lives, when they see
our partners respect us; when they see us respect ourselves, they will
follow suit. And if we take in other children to care for, we’re
influencing those children, too, and their children’s children. In
everything from the choices we make in life, to the ways we speak to our
children to the ways we glance at ourselves in the mirror, in passing,
caregivers are POWERFUL. We’re the grease in the wheels of feminism. I
argue, actually, that women who put down other women for choosing to
stay home with children are just part of the blind patriarchy. </p><p class="graf graf--p" name="e846">Without
regular vacations, without owning a home, without being socially
acceptable, I am privileged. I’m privileged to have watched my kids grow
up; to have shared my own life with them, and to have grown alongside
them. I’m privileged to have had opportunity to make a difference in my
community, and to model that for my children, so that, as young adults,
they’re now busy doing the same. I’m privileged to have developed a very
close relationship with my kids.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="2274">The
experience I’ve had in staying home with my kids and unschooling them
is not available to all women: especially not to single mothers, or
those with partners who are not supportive of the idea. Even as I now
struggle to develop a career as a middle-aged woman with disability and
not much documented work experience, I know how lucky I am to have lived
the life I chose. My career has shifted from
some-kind-of-subversive-artist to an artist that is deeply rooted in my
own experience as a stay-at-home-feminist-mom. The first big
installation I created was about giving voice to other mothers. Being a
parent has given me a perspective on humanity that was deeply needed for
my art-making, but not available to me until I’d had the experiences I
have.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="9b7b">I didn’t trade my values
and career for having children; I traded my early career for the
extremely powerful, feminist privilege of parenting my children,
full-on. Or, to shift the focus a little, I am using my chosen
experience as a stay-at-home-feminist-mom to build a stronger foundation
for my career, and thus hopefully to smash the patriarchy, even harder.</p><p class="graf graf--p" name="9b7b" style="text-align: center;">~ ~ ~ <br /></p><p class="graf graf--p" name="9b7b"><i>Did you enjoy reading this? You can subscribe by signing up in the sidebar!</i><br /></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-81657689596393931792021-12-02T09:08:00.002-08:002021-12-02T09:08:32.410-08:00How to Prepare for Scarcity and the Great Inflation<p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiddo-a3ejUNntGPLKNQ5GhDvYYQpKPgHVIORfBjqUWnxOWPRDht3qoO5BJma0SJZ8jbNj6qVJyemVEkqjbx34loEXjJSBSq-C1WTfLebiQX5SVj1V6KBDJJhXUeP3-rPrTxb2KCSmSAEbGLdtLbJVuJ9Kaag45MRkXC8wqbZpMLnWvch0g2tDD13AO=s2525" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1245" data-original-width="2525" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiddo-a3ejUNntGPLKNQ5GhDvYYQpKPgHVIORfBjqUWnxOWPRDht3qoO5BJma0SJZ8jbNj6qVJyemVEkqjbx34loEXjJSBSq-C1WTfLebiQX5SVj1V6KBDJJhXUeP3-rPrTxb2KCSmSAEbGLdtLbJVuJ9Kaag45MRkXC8wqbZpMLnWvch0g2tDD13AO=w640-h316" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Illustration by <a href=""You’d better prepare for the greatest inflationary wave in human history." That's the line that stuck out to me, near the end of umair haque's REALLY good article, "<a href="https://eand.co/why-everything-is-suddenly-getting-more-expensive-and-why-it-wont-stop-cbf5a091f403" target="_blank">Why Everything is Suddenly Getting More Expensive -- And Why It Won't Stop</a>". If you haven't read this article yet, or aren't already familiar with the idea of the Great Inflation, and how we're now paying for the affordability of past generations, I recommend reading that article before reading this one.&nbsp;</p><p>umair's article was very helpful to my understanding of why our groceries are getting so expensive or why, for example, I looked into second hand electric cars a few years ago and could find plentiful good options under 9K, and now there are none. So we know the Great Inflation is happening. My question is, how are we preparing?<br /><br />Emergency kits and Go-bags are not going to cut it. Home preparedness is totally underway at my house. After this year's excruciatingly horrible wildfire season, we made plans to back up our family photos and prepared a little waterproof box for our phones, wallets and hard-drive, for when we'll inevitably have to jump in the ocean and swim. After this year's heat-wave, we bought an air conditioner that doubles as a dehumidifier for the now annual warm-and-foggy (read: in-house-moldy) season. After the deep freeze we insulated our chicken-coop. After the current flood-caused highway (and whole-town) washouts, we put emergency supplies in our car. After gas prices jumped and the flood-caused supply chain disruptions made gas rationing necessary, we looked into electric cars. I already told you how that went.&nbsp;</p><p>But what's next?? We all know that none of this is enough. We can hardly predict the next climate-change-related disaster. Who knows how we should prepare? The one thing we all have to do is learn to live differently. And the change needed is so drastic we can hardly fathom it. Personally, I need lists to help me fathom. So I'm making one. In my mind it breaks down to three broad sections: things we need "much less", "none" and "more". My list is not complete or well-organised, but it helps me sort out my mind, so here goes:<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>We need much less of this:</b></span> <br />Most things in this first section should actually be on the "none" list, but at the moment our culture is such that we're going to need a transitional phase. I guess that's what this is. This gives us time to learn and share some skills we've abandoned and get prepared for the time when, whether we like it or not, all these things move to the "none" section.<br /></p><p><b>Travel:</b> As fuel and steel prices rise, it's going to become impossible for most people to travel, anyway, and the many industries that depend on travel tourism will die, regardless. But on top of that, it's already becoming impossible to commute for work, to send our children to non-local schools or programs; to visit our parents. We're going to have to use our great ingenuity, as we have already proven capable of during the pandemic, to work around this.<br /></p><p><b>Dependence on government:</b> I'm not sure what makes us think that the government will just keep creating resources to fix and replace those destroyed by climate change, but I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest that right now our government and military are pretty taxed just dealing with the constant march of disasters. At some point that's going to break. There won't always be soldiers available to build dikes and put out fires. We might as well get used to that, and expect to do the work, ourselves. Yes we can.<br /></p><p><b>Clothing:</b> I have such a clothing addiction! I think I buy very few things--just a garment or four a year for each person in my household. And recently I try to buy sustainably. But I also still own, alter and wear many clothes from my teens, and every decade between then and now. I probably have about ten times as many clothes as I actually need, and it's not like giving them away would be any more sustainable. Some parts of the world are <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bB3kuuBPVys" target="_blank">drowning in our "donations"</a> (take time to watch that if you, like me, still thought donating clothes was helpful). The only actual solution to this is to stop buying, entirely. I know I have enough clothing to last the rest of my life, if I do more mending. And I could clothe the rest of my family, too.<br /></p><p><b>Non-local food and industrial agriculture:</b> We know that industrial agriculture, along with fossil-fuel driven production and transportation, is a disaster for our future. Thousands of chickens and cows just drowned in my province when the artificially-drained land they lived on flooded, because of climate change. Our flimsy, human-made systems are going to crash so hard they can't recover. We might as well accept that now, and start something new so we're ready when they're gone. There are many viable solutions for this problem, and they begin with all of us eating more simply.&nbsp;</p><p><b>Imported food:</b> We can do this now. My family is Dutch, and we LOVE our imported cheese. My family is also Mexican, and we--wait! We already figured out how to make our own tortillas from local corn! This isn't going to be as hard as I thought. This isn't as big a deal, perhaps, as how our food is produced, but it's one way we can make a difference to our impact, and become more engaged in local food production.</p><p></p><p><b>Fossil fuels. Resource Extraction. ALL. THE. WASTE:</b> We're already making some progress with this. As we limit our needless use of office buildings for computer terminal work than can be done online, we will need less concrete and steel. As we commute and travel less, we'll need fewer highways and less fuel. As we drive less, fewer cars. And on it goes. The stuff that supported our wasteful consumerist existence will no longer be needed, and we can stop pillaging and burning our earth's resources.<br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>We need none of this:</b></span> <br />We already know these things are destroying us, and we can eliminate them, now. Yes, there will be devastating job losses, and huge shifts needed in our culture and thought patterns. We'll have to get very creative. But you know how when a close family member dies we're devastated and we don't know how we'll ever recover? But then we do, and we grow. And we end up somewhere new we never could have imagined before the loss. This will be the same.<br /></p><p></p><p><b>Tourism:</b> Yep. That's probably the end of the travel industry. Airlines. Cruising. Little plastic souvenirs and the trusted income source of <i>so many</i> communities, including mine. We'll find other ways to enjoy our world, along with other ways of supporting our communities.<br /></p><p><b>Careers that depend on global travel:</b> So much of our current air-travel is related to needless work-travel. It's the end of my career as an artist who exhibits in Amsterdam. A few years ago I might have said, "at least I got to do it once..." Now I'm kind of embarrassed I didn't make this realization before that. Lucky for us, technology has brought the world to our handheld devices. We can make the most of this.</p><p><b>Needless consumption, supporting mega corporations, escapism:</b> I, like most of us, grew up in an age where Christmas was actually about presents; about light shows in shopping districts and buying stuff to feel happy. I learned to satisfy my soul by shopping, by travelling; by escaping my real-world life into screens, food, shopping, and travel. Now that that world is falling apart, it's no longer satisfying to fulfill those consumption needs. For Christmas I want to be released from the "age of stuff", as my friend recently called it on Facebook. Oh yeah. Facebook. That has to go too. I'm going to have to actually go to out and talk to my community members in person. I hope I find some walking around without their phones.<br /><br />So now what? Now that we've dispensed of most of the biggest industries in the world, most of the jobs, and everything we actually loved about life... how on earth are we going to survive? Well, maybe not on earth. The billionaires are already playing with spaceflight. Let them move to Mars. The rest of us will dig deeply into that "More" category, and thrive.&nbsp;</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>We need more of this: </b></span><br />This is the beauty section. This is where we take all the grief and fear from the previous two sections of my list, turn it on its head, and marvel at all the joy we've found.<br /></p><p><b>Local food (and other resources):</b> The more of us go find sustainable, local producers to satisfy our needs, the more such producers there will be. It's not cheap to do this, so a huge part of it is valuing the food for what it's really worth. My partner and I decided to eat very little meat, a few years ago, and what we do eat should be sustainably produced. So in order to afford this (both ecologically and financially) we went from eating meat three or four times per week to a maximum of once a week. And we eat cheese about twice a month. I'm still looking for a really good local cheesemaker. When I find one, that cheese is going to be as expensive as it should be, but deeply, deeply appreciated. When you don't get something very often, it becomes so much more valuable. It's the scarcity principle, but this time it's working <i>for</i> us.<br /></p><p><b>Sharing:</b> My family has chickens, now. Sometimes we don't have enough eggs even to bake bread. Sometimes, we have enough to bake, make quiches, <i>and</i> share with our family. Those are happy times, when we feel rewarded by our ability to contribute. Like when my neighbour grew so many apples she asked us to come pick some. We ate so many apples that year. Sharing isn't always about food, or even objects. We make a point of learning and sharing knowledge with our neighbours, as well. Sharing isn't just necessary for the equitable use of community resources--it's necessary for our survival.<br /></p><p><b>Finding sustainable ways to contribute locally:</b> This is the joyful counterpart to the misery of losing jobs and entire industries; economical collapse that will be a natural fallout from rampant inflation. This is where we find ourselves working instead of for money, for survival. And I can tell you from my experiences supporting unschooling parents, teaching and writing for free, and raising plants and animals for food, it's the most rewarding work I've ever done.</p><p><b>Connecting with community and local ecology:</b> We protect what we know and love. Those who know and love us are our resources, and will protect us. This is the foundation of a wholistic society, but it's also the root of love and joy, so... what more can I say?<br /></p><p><b>Pointedly appreciating what we do have:</b> This comes back to the scarcity principle. My family has been regularly cutting back our consumption for a few years, now. We're eating mostly rice, corn, beans and lentils, along with what we grow, ourselves, and locally-grown veggies in the winter. We <i>really</i> enjoy our mushrooms, now that we only get them when they decide to pop up in the garden, or when we find them growing in the wild. It's the same for our homegrown chicken, eggs and veggies. It's the same for clothes we've mended or repurposed. Now that we rarely get to see our family (because: travel), we appreciate phone calls so much more. I make a big deal in my heart of what we took for granted, before. And that leaves me feeling deep joy.</p><p style="text-align: center;">~~~<br /></p><p></p><p>Maybe it's weird to be talking about deep joy in relation to climate change disasters and our current basic needs becoming unaffordable. But maybe we're just not seeing straight. The <i>cost</i> (as opposed the price) of our lifestyle has been astronomical since our parents and grandparents were children. Now we're finally paying for it, in climate change disasters and rampant inflation. That's going to hurt a lot, no matter how we slice it. But maybe some mental preparation can make the hurt more tolerable.&nbsp;</p><p>Maybe, instead of dreading the fires or floods or the housing crisis, we can prepare by living more simply, by forming strong communities of people who support each other; by building and living within our means. Maybe instead of rushing to the stores to stock up when we hear there's a shortage of microchips, maple syrup, or gas, we can embrace scarcity. Those last few spoonfuls of maple syrup are extra special now; I can feel resilient by making do with older devices, and I can walk instead of driving. I can even stay home. I can change careers, if I need to. And most of us will. Maybe, instead of working ourselves to death and spending more than we earn on big homes; spending time and money we don't have on travel and products that cost us our future, we can work less, spend less, love more, and look at everything we <i>do</i> have as if it is a gift. Because it really is. And we're finally learning to cherish it. That cherishing--that appreciation and finding of deep joy--is how we prepare our minds for the inevitable.<br /></p>" target="_blank">Taliesin River</a></i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p>"You’d better prepare for the greatest inflationary wave in human history." That's the line that stuck out to me, near the end of umair haque's REALLY good article, "<a href="https://eand.co/why-everything-is-suddenly-getting-more-expensive-and-why-it-wont-stop-cbf5a091f403" target="_blank">Why Everything is Suddenly Getting More Expensive -- And Why It Won't Stop</a>". If you haven't read this article yet, or aren't already familiar with the idea of the Great Inflation, and how we're now paying for the affordability of past generations, I recommend reading that article before reading this one. </p><p>umair's article was very helpful to my understanding of why our groceries are getting so expensive or why, for example, I looked into second hand electric cars a few years ago and could find plentiful good options under 9K, and now there are none. So we know the Great Inflation is happening. My question is, how are we preparing?<br /><br />Emergency kits and Go-bags are not going to cut it. Home preparedness is totally underway at my house. After this year's excruciatingly horrible wildfire season, we made plans to back up our family photos and prepared a little waterproof box for our phones, wallets and hard-drive, for when we'll inevitably have to jump in the ocean and swim. After this year's heat-wave, we bought an air conditioner that doubles as a dehumidifier for the now annual warm-and-foggy (read: in-house-moldy) season. After the deep freeze we insulated our chicken-coop. After the current flood-caused highway (and whole-town) washouts, we put emergency supplies in our car. After gas prices jumped and the flood-caused supply chain disruptions made gas rationing necessary, we looked into electric cars. I already told you how that went. </p><p>But what's next?? We all know that none of this is enough. We can hardly predict the next climate-change-related disaster. Who knows how we should prepare? The one thing we all have to do is learn to live differently. And the change needed is so drastic we can hardly fathom it. Personally, I need lists to help me fathom. So I'm making one. In my mind it breaks down to three broad sections: things we need "much less", "none" and "more". My list is not complete or well-organised, but it helps me sort out my mind, so here goes:<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><b>We need much less of this:</b></span> <br />Most things in this first section should actually be on the "none" list, but at the moment our culture is such that we're going to need a transitional phase. I guess that's what this is. This gives us time to learn and share some skills we've abandoned and get prepared for the time when, whether we like it or not, all these things move to the "none" section.<br /></p><p><b>Travel:</b> As fuel and steel prices rise, it's going to become impossible for most people to travel, anyway, and the many industries that depend on travel tourism will die, regardless. But on top of that, it's already becoming impossible to commute for work, to send our children to non-local schools or programs; to visit our parents. We're going to have to use our great ingenuity, as we have already proven capable of during the pandemic, to work around this.<br /></p><p><b>Dependence on government:</b> I'm not sure what makes us think that the government will just keep creating resources to fix and replace those destroyed by climate change, but I'm going to go out on a limb and suggest that right now our government and military are pretty taxed just dealing with the constant march of disasters. At some point that's going to break. There won't always be soldiers available to build dikes and put out fires. We might as well get used to that, and expect to do the work, ourselves. Yes we can.<br /></p><p><b>Clothing:</b> I have such a clothing addiction! I think I buy very few things--just a garment or four a year for each person in my household. And recently I try to buy sustainably. But I also still own, alter and wear many clothes from my teens, and every decade between then and now. I probably have about ten times as many clothes as I actually need, and it's not like giving them away would be any more sustainable. Some parts of the world are <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bB3kuuBPVys" target="_blank">drowning in our "donations"</a> (take time to watch that if you, like me, still thought donating clothes was helpful). The only actual solution to this is to stop buying, entirely. I know I have enough clothing to last the rest of my life, if I do more mending. And I could clothe the rest of my family, too.<br /></p><p><b>Non-local food and industrial agriculture:</b> We know that industrial agriculture, along with fossil-fuel driven production and transportation, is a disaster for our future. Thousands of chickens and cows just drowned in my province when the artificially-drained land they lived on flooded, because of climate change. Our flimsy, human-made systems are going to crash so hard they can't recover. We might as well accept that now, and start something new so we're ready when they're gone. There are many viable solutions for this problem, and they begin with all of us eating more simply. </p><p><b>Imported food:</b> We can do this now. My family is
Dutch, and we LOVE our imported cheese. My family is also Mexican, and
we--wait! We already figured out how to make our own tortillas from
local corn! This isn't going to be as hard as I thought. This isn't as
big a deal, perhaps, as how our food is produced, but it's one way we
can make a difference to our impact, and become more engaged in local
food production.</p><p></p><p><b>Fossil fuels. Resource Extraction. ALL. THE. WASTE:</b> We're already making some progress with this. As we limit our needless use of office buildings for computer terminal work than can be done online, we will need less concrete and steel. As we commute and travel less, we'll need fewer highways and less fuel. As we drive less, fewer cars. And on it goes. The stuff that supported our wasteful consumerist existence will no longer be needed, and we can stop pillaging and burning our earth's resources.<br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>We need none of this:</b></span> <br />We already know these things are destroying us, and we can eliminate them, now. Yes, there will be devastating job losses, and huge shifts needed in our culture and thought patterns. We'll have to get very creative. But you know how when a close family member dies we're devastated and we don't know how we'll ever recover? But then we do, and we grow. And we end up somewhere new we never could have imagined before the loss. This will be the same.<br /></p><p></p><p><b>Tourism:</b> Yep. That's probably the end of the travel industry. Airlines. Cruising. Little
plastic souvenirs and the trusted income source of <i>so many</i> communities, including mine. We'll find other ways to enjoy our world, along with other ways of supporting our communities.<br /></p><p><b>Careers that depend on global travel:</b> So much of our current air-travel is related to needless work-travel. It's the end of my career as an artist who exhibits
in Amsterdam. A few years ago I might have said, "at least I got to do
it once..." Now I'm kind of embarrassed I didn't make this realization
before that. Lucky for us, technology has brought the world to our handheld devices. We can make the most of this.</p><p><b>Needless consumption, supporting mega corporations, escapism:</b> I, like most of us, grew up in an age where Christmas was actually about presents; about light shows in shopping districts and buying stuff to feel happy. I learned to satisfy my soul by shopping, by travelling; by escaping my real-world life into screens, food, shopping, and travel. Now that that world is falling apart, it's no longer satisfying to fulfill those consumption needs. For Christmas I want to be released from the "age of stuff", as my friend recently called it on Facebook. Oh yeah. Facebook. That has to go too. I'm going to have to actually go to out and talk to my community members in person. I hope I find some walking around without their phones.<br /><br />So now what? Now that we've dispensed of most of the biggest industries
in the world, most of the jobs, and everything we actually loved about
life... how on earth are we going to survive? Well, maybe not on earth.
The billionaires are already playing with spaceflight. Let them move to
Mars. The rest of us will dig deeply into that "More" category, and
thrive. </p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>We need more of this: </b></span><br />This is the beauty section. This is where we take all the grief and fear from the previous two sections of my list, turn it on its head, and marvel at all the joy we've found.<br /></p><p><b>Local food (and other resources):</b> The more of us go find sustainable, local producers to satisfy our needs, the more such producers there will be. It's not cheap to do this, so a huge part of it is valuing the food for what it's really worth. My partner and I decided to eat very little meat, a few years ago, and what we do eat should be sustainably produced. So in order to afford this (both ecologically and financially) we went from eating meat three or four times per week to a maximum of once a week. And we eat cheese about twice a month. I'm still looking for a really good local cheesemaker. When I find one, that cheese is
going to be as expensive as it should be, but deeply, deeply
appreciated. When you don't get something very often, it becomes so much more valuable. It's the scarcity principle, but this time it's working <i>for</i> us.<br /></p><p><b>Sharing:</b> My family has chickens, now. Sometimes we don't have enough eggs even to bake bread. Sometimes, we have enough to bake, make quiches, <i>and</i> share with our family. Those are happy times, when we feel rewarded by our ability to contribute. Like when my neighbour grew so many apples she asked us to come pick some. We ate so many apples that year. Sharing isn't always about food, or even objects. We make a point of learning and sharing knowledge with our neighbours, as well. Sharing isn't just necessary for the equitable use of community resources--it's necessary for our survival.<br /></p><p><b>Finding sustainable ways to contribute locally:</b> This is the joyful
counterpart to the misery of losing jobs and entire industries;
economical collapse that will be a natural fallout from rampant
inflation. This is where we find ourselves working instead of for money,
for survival. And I can tell you from my experiences supporting
unschooling parents, teaching and writing for free, and raising plants
and animals for food, it's the most rewarding work I've ever done.</p><p><b>Connecting with community and local ecology:</b> We protect what we know and love. Those who know and love us are our resources, and will protect us. This is the foundation of a wholistic society, but it's also the root of love and joy, so... what more can I say?<br /></p><p><b>Pointedly appreciating what we do have:</b> This comes back to the scarcity principle. My family has been regularly cutting back our consumption for a few years, now. We're eating mostly rice, corn, beans and lentils, along with what we grow, ourselves, and locally-grown veggies in the winter. We <i>really</i> enjoy our mushrooms, now that we only get them when they decide to pop up in the garden, or when we find them growing in the wild. It's the same for our homegrown chicken, eggs and veggies. It's the same for clothes we've mended or repurposed. Now that we rarely get to see our family (because: travel), we appreciate phone calls so much more. I make a big deal in my heart of what we took for granted, before. And that leaves me feeling deep joy.</p><p style="text-align: center;">~~~<br /></p><p></p><p>Maybe it's weird to be talking about deep joy in relation to climate change disasters and our current basic needs becoming unaffordable. But maybe we're just not seeing straight. The <i>cost</i> (as opposed the price) of our lifestyle has been astronomical since our parents and grandparents were children. Now we're finally paying for it, in climate change disasters and rampant inflation. That's going to hurt a lot, no matter how we slice it. But maybe some mental preparation can make the hurt more tolerable. </p><p>Maybe, instead of dreading the fires or floods or the housing crisis, we can prepare by living more simply, by forming strong communities of people who support each other; by building and living within our means. Maybe instead of rushing to the stores to stock up when we hear there's a shortage of microchips, maple syrup, or gas, we can embrace scarcity. Those last few spoonfuls of maple syrup are extra special now; I can feel resilient by making do with older devices, and I can walk instead of driving. I can even stay home. I can change careers, if I need to. And most of us will. Maybe, instead of working ourselves to death and spending more than we earn on big homes; spending time and money we don't have on travel and products that cost us our future, we can work less, spend less, love more, and look at everything we <i>do</i> have as if it is a gift. Because it really is. And we're finally learning to cherish it. That cherishing--that appreciation and finding of deep joy--is how we prepare our minds for the inevitable.<br /></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-9565405898552645802021-11-18T11:45:00.001-08:002021-11-18T11:52:41.844-08:00Survival: Agility of Mind and Heart<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEinUt_VLcRVbf3f2sVsq1dAyegn4fCAMERhANmblDE47uiIJw5RsWv8gZZASoLcg0uPKbCzXSdahIVF-9UsTEw2zgnjDG3jDgXIRt64pmMtlzUEswY2IZc8xx9SA0M7mj-mRXgTdO7rczbyEOKuNTMQHz127kA17I_izk4mqS7up85U5jxWsqms2pZ7=s1980" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1320" data-original-width="1980" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEinUt_VLcRVbf3f2sVsq1dAyegn4fCAMERhANmblDE47uiIJw5RsWv8gZZASoLcg0uPKbCzXSdahIVF-9UsTEw2zgnjDG3jDgXIRt64pmMtlzUEswY2IZc8xx9SA0M7mj-mRXgTdO7rczbyEOKuNTMQHz127kA17I_izk4mqS7up85U5jxWsqms2pZ7=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>One of the various road-collapses on the Coquihalla Highway in British Columbia. <br />Photo used with permission from Douglas Noblet, of <a href="https://wildairphoto.com/" target="_blank">Wild Air Photography</a>. <br />Douglas has shared a series of these photos <a href="https://www.facebook.com/wildairphoto/posts/4633940783316025" target="_blank">here, on Facebook</a>.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>I was looking at these photos by Douglas Noblet, this morning, which seem to be mainly of the Fraser Valley, and highway collapses of the Coquihalla and the Hope-Princeton, and I found myself wondering how long it will take to restore our infrastructure. Months? Maybe years for the Coquihalla? (More on what's broken, here: <a href="https://www.nsnews.com/highlights/bc-storm-highway-3-best-bet-to-reopen-travel-between-lower-mainland-interior-4764091" target="_blank">North Shore News</a>) </p><p>Then I realized that we're in climate free-fall, now. Any restoration is going to be hampered by increasing floods, blizzards, storms, fires, deep-freezes and heat-waves, not to mention the human issues like pandemics, supply-disruption, economic strife, labour and food shortages. Maybe the answer isn't how to get back to old-normal, but how we move forward <i>instead</i> of backward, and build <i>new normal</i>. </p><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjFBYtV4mEX8YQN8Vk2ZpTMDDmnSqU1qMtuySryCIaToEln-8ie6WjpIP-dCuOjsNCrLnygAMkEM3yYAfJBplpbspNXI10S0JlLd_6Dz34OvtYKxv5FpcXWcNB7D_DjfO1YGBFMFJgxah6kQ5zG8JWVlqDq-JC-SwlMdRpFq7o7m2JvErXHMfSp5TP1=s1863" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1114" data-original-width="1863" height="382" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjFBYtV4mEX8YQN8Vk2ZpTMDDmnSqU1qMtuySryCIaToEln-8ie6WjpIP-dCuOjsNCrLnygAMkEM3yYAfJBplpbspNXI10S0JlLd_6Dz34OvtYKxv5FpcXWcNB7D_DjfO1YGBFMFJgxah6kQ5zG8JWVlqDq-JC-SwlMdRpFq7o7m2JvErXHMfSp5TP1=w640-h382" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The flooded Sumas Prairie in
British Columbia.<br />Photo used with permission from Douglas Noblet, of <a href="https://wildairphoto.com/" target="_blank">Wild Air Photography</a>. <br />Douglas has shared a series of these photos <a href="https://www.facebook.com/wildairphoto/posts/4633940783316025" target="_blank">here, on Facebook</a>.</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>Upon hearing that thousands of dairy cows (half our province's dairy production) have drowned in their barns, I am ashamed to say that along with immense grief, I felt an urge to go buy "the last milk". My cousin reports that stores are bursting with panic-shoppers. What was I thinking?! Milk?! Really?! Milk is not a "need". Thankfully we didn't buy any. </p><p>But you know what <i>is</i> a need? Love. Community.
Right now we have some of our extended family here, who out of sheer luck got briefly lost on their way home to Princeton, and managed to just barely miss being caught in the Agassiz slide. So they're stuck here on the coast while their town is flooded. The silver lining to this situation is that, while we haven't seen them in over two years, due to the pandemic, last night I got to feel their arms around me, again. It was a huge relief. </p><p>I know these photos are terrifying. It's awful to wonder if or how our kids will manage if schools remain closed, as they are now throughout the flooded valley and other towns. It's awful to wonder how our supplies and jobs and communities will survive if these highways and industries don't get repaired soon. It's awful just to wonder what we'll feed our kids if they can't have cereal with milk and they refuse to eat anything else! I know--it's a fear borne of privilege. But it's fear. We feel so easily lost at sea with no answers; no clear vision of where we're going. This fear leads to panic shopping, competition, greed, and more reckless consumption. It's exactly how we got to this place in human evolution, and the only way out is to let go of the fear. </p><p>Now I'm thinking about how we can change, instead of rebuilding. It isn't the cows' milk we depend on, nor the farmland it came from. The Sumas Prairie was created a century ago by <a href="https://dailyhive.com/vancouver/sumas-lake-sumas-prairie-barrowtown-pump-station-abbotsford-flooding" target="_blank">draining an enormous wetland</a>. It was never our land, to begin with, and the question of buying milk seems so meaningless, now. It isn't the infrastructure that creates land for industrial farming, or brings our groceries from afar, nor the schools that hold our children while we work to buy the milk. It's love. Love is what makes us resilient. Love is what has brought citizens and business owners in the town of Hope to feed and shelter travellers trapped by mudslides. Love is what gives us the strength to grow food in the first place, to share with our neighbours even when we barely have enough, ourselves, to hold up our communities and hold on to hope.
Love is what supports us while our minds are doing the amazing task of being agile; of finding solutions to problems we never fathomed just a few years ago. Love is what creates agility of mind and heart, and gives us the power to survive. </p><p>The new normal we need to be building will become evident as the old normal is no longer available. For me, it is found in the arms of my loved ones. If I never drink milk again, and if my whole "normal" becomes something I can't even fathom, right now, it will be built on love.</p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-85757543074008619472021-10-22T17:56:00.001-07:002021-10-22T17:56:36.705-07:00Travel is Becoming Unethical: Hyper-Local Exotica in Artistic Experience<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhIJX71dxq_F6GeDZlxGuQGUaSxmLtMdZyv0vY8-W7U5KvGVNAikCOidCCqgeqv9H2yRFs9GPpyv3ddX1jQHQmCCGmccxgseDF_pddk3tE_60quLZV4rGpIm9H0k-yyg8yN8vtpbkhTEHAN25_LsENCqTTKRw9KA7R514w-aMmgys7MxDE2-8TpzVJ3=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="2048" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhIJX71dxq_F6GeDZlxGuQGUaSxmLtMdZyv0vY8-W7U5KvGVNAikCOidCCqgeqv9H2yRFs9GPpyv3ddX1jQHQmCCGmccxgseDF_pddk3tE_60quLZV4rGpIm9H0k-yyg8yN8vtpbkhTEHAN25_LsENCqTTKRw9KA7R514w-aMmgys7MxDE2-8TpzVJ3=w640-h328" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>"Mama Running in the Water" photo by <a href="https://www.instagram.com/taliesinriver/" target="_blank">Taliesin River</a></i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p>One of my favourite natural events is when the meadow floods. That's when the rain comes fast and the creek that normally flows through the alder forest comes out around the trees to run across the compact paths between long grasses, creating two- to thirty-centimetre-deep creeks that speed along, where in summer, bare-footed dogs and children run. In winter, I've run these temporary creeks in bare feet too. I know the feeling of the mud and wet grasses between my toes, and the fear of stepping in drowned dog poop. The joy of the immersion is too great to be daunted by the threat of poop. As I've grown older, though, I've come to appreciate the benefits of good rain gear and tall boots, which allow me to dive into my landscape without physical repercussions.</p><p>Diving into landscape is something I've been thinking about a lot, lately: How, through residencies and travel and schooling or working abroad, artists aim to really immerse ourselves in different landscapes, to come home refreshed and inspired; often longing to return again to the exotic and wonderfully wild places we visited. We make art during or after these travels that sometimes explores the longing, the wildness or the bodies-in-place-ness of where we were; sometimes the brokenness of our human emotional existence across a diversity of different locations.</p><p>But pandemic and carbon-footprint considerations have led many of us to think deeply about the value and sacrifice of these muse-journeys. It's not only the air-travel that's a problem. There's also a problem with small villages taking a great percentage of their income from residence-tourism, or just tourism in general; when the actual <i>residents</i> of the community become dependent upon visits by people who will never actually become engaged in or contribute to the community as residents do, but only as grateful residence-artists. I live in a small community that gleans some of our income from tourism, and I know exactly how damaging a million tourist footprints are to the ecology of the place my own bare feet feel at home. I know how they take photos of this beautiful place, but never deeply understand the ecology; how they go home to write travel-blogs that extol the quaintness and quietness of my home but fail to capture the realness of our people; the political and social crises we feel, and even the imminent threat to the forests, fields, and beaches they're photographing. Once when I was small, my parents were out by the road cutting a tree into rounds for firewood--a gruelling job they did every year to keep our family warm--and some tourists drove up and stopped to watch them. They never got out of their car; just stopped to watch for a while and then drove away again.<br /><br />I felt the other side of this problematic story keenly during my own residence in Amsterdam, a few years ago. I stayed and installed a project in the <a href="https://projectgoleb.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Goleb Project Space</a> run by my friends Igor and Go-Eun. They welcomed and supported me graciously and while my experience was expansive, I noticed that the below-surface politics of the centre were very different than what I was experiencing as a visitor to the space. I wondered how my presence there had perhaps displaced others' work or intentions; how my ideas had changed the dialogue or intention of the group. Goleb is in one of the more mundane urban areas of Amsterdam, so I didn't think too much about my ecological impact, but one afternoon that changed. I was walking along the <i>gracht</i> (a small waterway for which we have no English word), getting closer and closer to an adorable family of coots, attempting to photograph them in what I thought was a remarkably interesting way, and a pair of men sitting on a bench nearby told me off for disturbing the wildlife. I reminded myself of the tourists I complain about, here in Canada. I had truly no idea of those coots' ecological value, nor who the guys on the bench were, or the stories they brought to that moment. It was all just an afternoon distraction from the project I was working on.<br /></p><p>Then came the pandemic; the shutting down of most international travel. And the growing list of climate change disasters claiming our cultural, personal, and ecological heritage. Personally, I can't reconcile travel with artistic purpose anymore. I'm not even sure I can justify travelling overseas to visit family. So I'm thinking a lot about how we can be engaged and inspired by place without the inherent damage of travel.<br /></p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg05zOmtaT5giTOeStg5gSCl4n236eYhl7Vczbo05j7XFKO_uKx6mcKiqwZpn_CHpVNOI8exQFGj1QKXPHtdYAec4s3we4_hr4ufR-5Rz9M2EQJPR62EZdZk4tssVkqszbazAYVUfxhbNHJPCkMzqxR2Cm3zC882ZF1G8M883JtTGqY2mp7Wga84eGC=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg05zOmtaT5giTOeStg5gSCl4n236eYhl7Vczbo05j7XFKO_uKx6mcKiqwZpn_CHpVNOI8exQFGj1QKXPHtdYAec4s3we4_hr4ufR-5Rz9M2EQJPR62EZdZk4tssVkqszbazAYVUfxhbNHJPCkMzqxR2Cm3zC882ZF1G8M883JtTGqY2mp7Wga84eGC=w640-h426" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Un-Boxing Exhibition, arranged by Gudrun Filipska, Caroline Kelley, Lenka Clayton and Carly Butler of the Arts Territory Exchange, on arrival, here at Plas Bodfa, in Wales. Photo by Julie Upmeyer.</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p>What if travel isn't necessary to become immersed in landscape, or even to experience exotic places? We've already proven quite thoroughly that many of the business- and organizational-meetings we used to travel for can be done over the internet. I joined my brother's birthday dinner by video-chat, and have attended a couple of symposiums by Zoom. Artists have always found ingenious ways of making art in collaboration and across time and space through the mail, telephone, internet, and travelling exhibitions or projects. For me and many others, the creative solutions were often borne out of financial or temporal necessity, but now perhaps we can make these choices also out of concern for our future. </p><p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhtE_xSvqUhw9I2gHj9nvmNIxgPy4eLtnjzNjdTtTVQc1pcxPjKZebcJSO5kZAvQZV7DtsbrHzn9mE7L8H1oM6T9l6SDTP66HSpMUtZsCisV9TNo5oVyESwZNQp46GbI4lv5Y8ZPBzcxWlfZjBAIeb5TDKMvXaOEVGYVD0ABrl1ZywihUsEcSM06cb3=s2048" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhtE_xSvqUhw9I2gHj9nvmNIxgPy4eLtnjzNjdTtTVQc1pcxPjKZebcJSO5kZAvQZV7DtsbrHzn9mE7L8H1oM6T9l6SDTP66HSpMUtZsCisV9TNo5oVyESwZNQp46GbI4lv5Y8ZPBzcxWlfZjBAIeb5TDKMvXaOEVGYVD0ABrl1ZywihUsEcSM06cb3=w426-h640" width="426" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My work about my own Pacific Island, on a staircase in Wales. <br />Plas Bodfa. Photo: Julie Upmeyer</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>I'm including photos, here, of the <a href="https://www.artsterritoryexchange.com/unboxing" target="_blank">Un-Boxing project</a> I am honoured to be participating in, this year--a travelling box of works that examines ideas of place, travel, gifting, and time, as well as the delight of opening parcels. It seems a bit meta to me, and I can see how it might inspire a lot of searching and thoughtful dialogue. My entire experience of this show, so far, has been through others' lenses. For me personally it's reignited my passion for the hyper-local: If this is the view of my experience through others' lenses, what is the view of my experience, through mine? Or their experience of my contribution, re-experienced by me? I'm not a huge fan of navel-gazing, and now this sounds like meta-meta-meta, but maybe in trying to reevaluate our engagement with space and time and each other we can find new ways of experiencing. </p><p>In a symposium I attended virtually today about mobility, spatiality and virtuality in Iceland, artist Zuhaitz Aziku of <a href="https://www.strondinstudio.com/about" target="_blank">Strondin Studio</a> suggested that we need to "make people realize that they're buying experience. Because you cannot ever buy experience." The experience is what comes from what we put into anything. Whether Zuhaitz intended this or not, he made me realize that experience doesn't need to be far away to be exotic. I've been exploring the exotic of my own backyard for over forty years. How can there be anything exotic in my own backyard, when my body knows every inch of it so well? Because, as Zuhaitz helped me to realize, my experience of this place changes with every moment. My intention and what I take away depends on how I engage, and that, too, changes with every moment. </p><p>I think we travel in order to escape the routine of our lives; to break our minds from the same parade of sensual input we receive every day. It's easier to take a different view if we remove ourselves from our routines. But maybe that's just lazy. Maybe we can train ourselves to look differently every day; to pass the same places but never in the same ways. Maybe we can practice closing our eyes and listening to things we normally only see, or lying down in places we normally only stand. When I stop running through the meadow and crawl, instead, I discover that rodents have created pathways under the mat of grass. I find insects leaving trails of detritus inside these covered runways. It's like an entirely exotic world to the one I stood in just a moment before. When I run through that meadow in the flood, I feel a kind of sensory freedom that doesn't in any way compare to the way that grass feels in the summer. I wonder where the rodents go when the creek runs through their pathways. If I learn all of this, it won't be exotic anymore, but something new will happen tomorrow; there will be new questions and new experiences and new ways of engaging with this space. There will be new ways of experiencing and inspiring. I won't have to leave this place to find them.</p><p>Can I live in place in my own backyard and call it a residency? I sure as hell reside here, and the more I stay home, confined by pandemic and financial restrictions; my own ethical concerns around carbon footprint and supporting large corporate airlines, the more I see the value in this. Maybe we can adjust the expectation of worldliness in our artistic practices for the benefit of our common future. And far from becoming navel-gazing meta, our practices will expand into our spaces in a way that they never could when we were busy escaping for exotic experiences. We can use our art as a means for researching, understanding, and bettering ourselves and our own communities, in place.<br /></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-156590017802334623.post-22755399504635267142021-07-27T17:33:00.001-07:002021-09-27T19:09:12.018-07:00Why Feeling Matters in Public Policy<p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtKeudE_JkDUGaDolokI4W6oDlXdsunceFmjc8xGLeaJlegRZzNMnI6g6HzXlqwKBpRbA9Ad4MUJ6g20ylqja2Zf6AdlYtchxc3L0N1sXWdLTaAJwkP483fsZF-NkJFtqLKH4zNnvvwK0y/s659/emily-van-lidth-de-jeude--nothing-comes-out--500.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="659" data-original-width="500" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtKeudE_JkDUGaDolokI4W6oDlXdsunceFmjc8xGLeaJlegRZzNMnI6g6HzXlqwKBpRbA9Ad4MUJ6g20ylqja2Zf6AdlYtchxc3L0N1sXWdLTaAJwkP483fsZF-NkJFtqLKH4zNnvvwK0y/w304-h400/emily-van-lidth-de-jeude--nothing-comes-out--500.png" width="304" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>(I open my mouth and) Nothing Comes Out<br />Emily van Lidth de Jeude, 2016</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table>Last night I attended a devastating meeting in my community. On the surface it was pretty run-of-the-mill: A bunch of councilors and a few municipal staff members slowly picking their way through various presentations, decisions, and amendments. They came to the end of the meeting having checked a few boxes, put a few requests to bed or to progress, and made a few small changes to the contentious bylaw that much of the population feels will rip the heart out of our community. <br /><br />As a member of this community for all of my life, I've been passionate about the things that tie us together. Some of those things are the big organized events, like our traditional summer festival and Remembrance Day celebration; the fishing derbies that used to happen when I was a kid, and the raft race. The events change over the years, but always hold us together, and are facilitated by a huge number of dedicated creative people, who look at their community and see the need for celebration. We're also held together by the little things, like stopping to chat with an oncoming driver in the road, or letting the community cat into the car for a ride. We're held together by actions like calling a neighbour for help clearing a dead deer or sitting down with Bob for an ephemeral but deeply interesting conversation. </p><p>Sometimes the holding together is very intentional. So many of us contribute time, ideas, and great heart to this community. In my own work and volunteer roles, I've been bringing newcomers into engagement with our wilderness, so that they can love and value this place as I do. As an artist I've grown in this rich stew of community to see the value of social practice around inclusion and diversity. I consider my work (both public and gallery-focused) a method of bringing out the voices of my fellow citizens and reminding us all of our personal benefit to community. </p><p>Most of the artists I know are somehow engaged in broad community visioning, and feelings are our language. When we sit around talking together, we talk about the big picture. We talk about the vibe of the public spaces in our community, and the vague drifting of public sentiment; of community values. We talk about the social-emotional gorgeousness we're trying to promote, and the social change that is or should be happening. We see the big web of emotional connection that makes a community whole; that tethers us to the place we live, and we work in our sometimes-mysterious ways to keep it alive. </p><p>Yes, these feelings and ideas can be vague, but we are masters of vaguery. The term "vague", like its linguistic origin in the French for "wave", might seem unthreatening. But a wave, however gentle, rarely comes alone, and sometimes builds slowly, unseen. Sometimes a tidal wave is a wall of water. Often it's just a going out of the tide, and then a returning, and returning, and returning, until the one unappreciated wave has enveloped a whole community. "Vague" is the feeling of community sentiment, and it can be just as devastating.<br /></p><p>What devastated me about the council meeting was our council's lack of vision for that social web; that vague sentiment. During the meeting, various councilors mentioned that the bylaw was
needed in order to "control" people, and that "not all people are our
friends". They spoke often about controlling the population, but never about listening to it. They received a long series of letters asking them to consider the social damage caused by a pending bylaw that will severely limit access and enjoyment to our most popular public spaces. Letter-writers spoke about the casual gathering that will no longer happen after this bylaw is passed, and the councilors chalked it up to a lack of understanding on the public's part. The one councilor who opposes this bylaw spoke up to explain--again--his fierce opposition, and the idea that they shouldn't be pushing through a bylaw that is so publicly reviled. They carried on without acknowledging his words. Finally, they picked away at some of the wording of the bylaw, ostensibly to help people understand, without seeing the big picture. They didn't let any feelings they had to get in the way of their bylaw. They deafly ignored their populace, and carried on as though nothing had happened.</p><p>Is this a crisis of imagination? Maybe. Maybe we as a society are becoming less and less able to imagine a future we want to live in; to envision it so that we can create it. We're less and less able to see a future that is inclusive if we can't imagine how to converse or get along with those who we deem "not our friends". We know, in the abstract, that we need public policy that is expressly inclusive, but we, like our councilors, have forgotten how to include our neighbours. We've forgotten how to listen to the great vague voice of public sentiment.<br /></p><p>The big picture in public policy <i>is</i> public sentiment. The public doesn't like this bylaw. We don't like that we haven't been consulted. We don't like that our letters were not read aloud, nor discussed for the many serious points they bring up. We don't like the feeling that a series of long complex bylaws will govern our footsteps and enjoyment of community spaces. We feel oppressed by this bylaw, and our feelings are what this community is made of. </p><p>As our community becomes more and more developed; more populated, more busy, more anonymous, we're losing sight of the importance of neighbourly compassion in our social exchanges. As our municipal government takes on more control, we have relinquished the desire to affect change, ourselves. We've given up. We are increasingly more likely to call the authorities to deal with dead deer or fallen trees instead of hauling them away, ourselves. We used to use them for meat or firewood; we're no longer permitted to do so. And as our social agency is taken away, we're growing more likely to call the authorities when a neighbour offends us than to bring over a drink and have a chat. Our crisis of imagination has led to a crisis of public agency.<br /><br />And when I realized that the vision of that big picture--that public engagement--is missing from our leadership, I realized that we also have a crisis of feeling. We elected leaders to do a dry job of picking through legal documents and approving or rejecting requests, but we didn't empower them to feel. When they post on public forums they are expected to remain impartial. We expect that the work of governing should be done without emotion, but it concerns emotion a great deal. We need our councilors to have compassion for the woman living in a tent behind the library, to prevent them from passing bylaws that would outlaw her presence. We need them to notice the people feeling alarmed and horrified by proposed changes and ask themselves how those feelings will impact the big picture of our community. We need them to feel, so that they can take our feelings into account; so that we feel heard and empowered to engage in our community.<br /></p>Emily van Lidth de Jeudehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01117682138228037256noreply@blogger.com1