“And Yet”

Created after weathering a year of the pandemic, much energy is contained within these sculptural pods that both hang from and emerge out of the branches collected from the creek at the bottom of our hill. Foundational macro photography of dried petals remaining after their seeds sustained the birds and early maple buds frozen beneath thick layers of ice that did not live to see the spring—beautiful bits of life preserved beneath carved wax layers represent lives lost during the pandemic and the immense suffering, grief, isolation, and change that every individual in the world experienced during this time. 

Collected from our flooded creek and slowly hauled up the long hill home in a heavy bundle on my arms, shoulders, and head, I thought of all those who have carried too much on their shoulders during this challenging time. Like the wood worn smooth by the forces of water over time, we all traversed a profound experience that has changed us through a whole continuum of loss and growth. The branches slowly move from a chaotic jumble to a sense of direction as they join to create a way upward towards the light. 

As they cross the midpoint, the pods begin to fill with renewed life force, carrying with them the energy of those lives lost, deeply aware of the gift of every new day. Like the pods that morphed into leaves filled with yellow and white pollen-laden blossoms against blue skies, the ladder provides a way out. And as unlikely as it seemed after three seasons (and counting!) of loss, spring came....