It's a rewarding practice to compile readers' words at the end of a series. Their gift is worth documenting so they are not entirely lost. My vision had always been that this would be a conversation, something that brings thinking towards a more beautiful future. Thanks, Pipp!
"everything is impermanent and all of us are mortal." Did I say that? Had I been drinking? : ) Actually it sounds like something I'd say. I think I might have commented on the immortality of writing. We can't even read Shakespeare without footnotes. And that's only a few hundred years old! Anyway thanks for the shout out and your excellent article.
That point re. writing is quite the contrast to Jenna's suggestion about making it more ephemeral, like words in chalk on the sidewalk. And then again, there's all those words thrown into the bin (so many of those myself and some I wish I'd actually kept!)
Who amongst us has not yearned for a Gertrude Stein vision of a salon? Safar has probably come as close as possible to that vision in this disconnected, two-dimensional space. It makes me want to chime in a somewhat jarring way. I have a friend who is a thrift-store junkie and, through her, I've discovered a thought about "ephemeral art" since two staples of the thrift stores I've visited are books and art (and often art that appears to come from someone's lifetime passion rather than a gallery or museum).
In the extreme sense, isn't all art ephemeral, just waiting for a landfill to call home? Thank you, Safar, for this conversation ... remind me next time, and I'll bring cookies and tea.
All art can be considered ephemeral, is something I included earlier, but from a different context, that of the relationship between art and the viewer. I didn't think really about how it changes hands, almost more an assumption someone owns it then tries to conserve it. Good angle, Joyce! Being a tea drinker, I look forward to your offering 🫖
So much food for thought compiled here. I am sitting here, looking up at my old oak trees that have snapped so many branches off this past winter, contemplating their impermanence and my own.
I've been gardening in the shade of oaks contemplating the trouble with boar!
But more seriously, we've lost a lot of, I'll call them twigs, from our oaks the last couple of weeks which has been the stormiest weather we've seen for a while. The oaks do like to offer wisdom when we approach them with the mindset of listening.
This reminds me of jigsaw puzzles. I find it gets easier to take them apart and put them away after putting them together. It used to trouble me to do that, but now I give them a day on the table, or an hour, or five minutes, depending on the puzzle and my need to reclaim the space.
I love that picture you found of the leaves stacked and laced together with a trail of punctures. That's just the image for your weave of reader comments.
Safar, I loved how you wove together people's comments on ephemeral art. It brought a depth to this subject. Something about communal, collaborative art as an inter-relational bonding. Art created as this post through lacing and tying people's words together. I found this extremely touching.
Safar, I love this weaving together of words! What you've done here is a work of art in itself. ❤️ One thing that came to mind as I was contemplating ephemeral art and memory is actually something I used to ponder quite a bit...for most of human history we did not have cameras nor even the ability to make portraiture for that matter. So, when a loved one died, there was no artifact upon which we could store their image. Perhaps our ancestors' memories worked differently than ours (I suspect that's at least partially true). But it makes me wonder how quickly would we forget the face of our beloved. And how that impacted the whole process of grief.
Safar, firstly, apologies again for a late reply and secondly, Wow, really… this letter is in itself a work of art!
The way you have rounded up all the comments into a seamless essay, if I ever have need to do the same I will know who to ask! Truly, this is beautiful, although I have a feeling I talk too much!!
Thank you too, Susie, without anyone talking (even too much) there could be no round up, so I am always so grateful to discover I have so much to work with.
What a meticulous study Safar! and beautifully interwoven. The quote of
Susie’s about ephemeral art of mother nature was so charming and erudite
It's a rewarding practice to compile readers' words at the end of a series. Their gift is worth documenting so they are not entirely lost. My vision had always been that this would be a conversation, something that brings thinking towards a more beautiful future. Thanks, Pipp!
P.S. Susie does have a way with words!
She does!!
Such an engaging round up of the conversation, and I love what you've done with all the comments. 🎉
I really look forward now to the end of the series so I can round them up. It does feel then I can let a theme go before moving on to the next.
Me too
"everything is impermanent and all of us are mortal." Did I say that? Had I been drinking? : ) Actually it sounds like something I'd say. I think I might have commented on the immortality of writing. We can't even read Shakespeare without footnotes. And that's only a few hundred years old! Anyway thanks for the shout out and your excellent article.
That point re. writing is quite the contrast to Jenna's suggestion about making it more ephemeral, like words in chalk on the sidewalk. And then again, there's all those words thrown into the bin (so many of those myself and some I wish I'd actually kept!)
Happy you've joined us!
Who amongst us has not yearned for a Gertrude Stein vision of a salon? Safar has probably come as close as possible to that vision in this disconnected, two-dimensional space. It makes me want to chime in a somewhat jarring way. I have a friend who is a thrift-store junkie and, through her, I've discovered a thought about "ephemeral art" since two staples of the thrift stores I've visited are books and art (and often art that appears to come from someone's lifetime passion rather than a gallery or museum).
In the extreme sense, isn't all art ephemeral, just waiting for a landfill to call home? Thank you, Safar, for this conversation ... remind me next time, and I'll bring cookies and tea.
All art can be considered ephemeral, is something I included earlier, but from a different context, that of the relationship between art and the viewer. I didn't think really about how it changes hands, almost more an assumption someone owns it then tries to conserve it. Good angle, Joyce! Being a tea drinker, I look forward to your offering 🫖
So much food for thought compiled here. I am sitting here, looking up at my old oak trees that have snapped so many branches off this past winter, contemplating their impermanence and my own.
I've been gardening in the shade of oaks contemplating the trouble with boar!
But more seriously, we've lost a lot of, I'll call them twigs, from our oaks the last couple of weeks which has been the stormiest weather we've seen for a while. The oaks do like to offer wisdom when we approach them with the mindset of listening.
This reminds me of jigsaw puzzles. I find it gets easier to take them apart and put them away after putting them together. It used to trouble me to do that, but now I give them a day on the table, or an hour, or five minutes, depending on the puzzle and my need to reclaim the space.
I love that picture you found of the leaves stacked and laced together with a trail of punctures. That's just the image for your weave of reader comments.
Jigsaw puzzle, yes! It is a little like that. I do start by shuffling the pieces around a bit.
I'm happy you saw the parallel between the image and the words. I was delighted when I found it.
Safar, I loved how you wove together people's comments on ephemeral art. It brought a depth to this subject. Something about communal, collaborative art as an inter-relational bonding. Art created as this post through lacing and tying people's words together. I found this extremely touching.
Safar, I love this weaving together of words! What you've done here is a work of art in itself. ❤️ One thing that came to mind as I was contemplating ephemeral art and memory is actually something I used to ponder quite a bit...for most of human history we did not have cameras nor even the ability to make portraiture for that matter. So, when a loved one died, there was no artifact upon which we could store their image. Perhaps our ancestors' memories worked differently than ours (I suspect that's at least partially true). But it makes me wonder how quickly would we forget the face of our beloved. And how that impacted the whole process of grief.
Those are very interesting questions. My first thought is 'story'.
Thank you, Jenna!
Oh, yes, story. Of course!
Safar, firstly, apologies again for a late reply and secondly, Wow, really… this letter is in itself a work of art!
The way you have rounded up all the comments into a seamless essay, if I ever have need to do the same I will know who to ask! Truly, this is beautiful, although I have a feeling I talk too much!!
Thank you so much for including my comments. X
Thank you too, Susie, without anyone talking (even too much) there could be no round up, so I am always so grateful to discover I have so much to work with.