tethers

In the greenhouse, transparent walls hold the light and heat of the sun and become a climate controlled time capsule. Seasons are extended for the protection and control of plant growth.  In this space, disparate things come together to live in tandem and to make a home together.  

The gardener, collector, or caretaker must gather, prepare the soil, uproot, then transplant, nurture, and hope for growth. Collections are assembled along water lines and beneath grow lights, each specimen carefully chosen and arranged to seem as if the pine and the hibiscus have always grown side by side. They can arrange all the pieces and give their verdant charges every chance to be successful, but in the end it is up to the plant itself to take root.   

Like these unnatural companions, our own work takes root among them—a print between branches, a video among propagations, draped fabric and rope climbing through the rafters, exploring ritual structures with the handmade and the earth-made soaking sunlight together.  

We generate tethers of our own in this place of shared life, becoming lines of connection between each other, between the world and ourselves, between the earth and its plants, and the invisible strings tying it together.