This element was an epiphany resulting from available material. When pallets of new empty bottles are shipped there are separators between each stack, which can generate a lot of virgin craft. Adaptive reuse consists of ripping each sheet into four strips and weaving them together. The mat is ultimately to prevent the profusion of weeds, and me from having to pull them. Lackluster leveling of the surface in advance led to afterthought attempts to calm the wave. I anticipate being able to weave in reinforcing sections as it begins to biodegrade. Potentially, I may try to incorporate some other patterns of weave, like the herringbone.
This set of raised beds is made of the same raw material as the Brewery Waste Mat. It was cut and then folded almost origami-style. The maze itself is an ode to this land’s heritage crops*. It is also a play off the popular fall-time farm tradition. In a more intentional sense, it is based off of the meditation labyrinth, where one follows a single path as a mental exercise. The beds give the maze form, but as the crops develop the maze takes on its full contemplative force.
* Three sisters are corn, bean, and squash, coming from Native American agrarian tradition. This symbiotic companion planting reinforces benefits as the squash shade the ground to hold water, and the corn provides support for the beans that nourish the soil.
Bird’s Nest Arch has been modified with the addition of an actual Bird’s Nest formerly from a fallen tree out front. I used sections of steel pipe driven into the ground as housing for the arch framework. The woven gnarled rebar is from a demolished cement structure.
Squash Hut is made from a co-workers salvaged iron porch columns, wood from a deconstructed fence, and details pulled from trash piles. What changes is the annual attempt to grow shade.
The decorative plumb tree has beautiful blooms, but the fruit is the bane of most homeowners who are subjected to the profusion of sticky red bombs. Consequently I topped mine, but felt obligated to try to put the dead branches to another use. Also desirous of a modicum of privacy, I decided to line the back chain link fence. Now it simultaneously presents a barrier and a window. The casual passerby will look past the screen of twigs as they continue on their path, but the interested observer can easily peer through the tangle to the landscape beyond.
This is the second incarnation of Baby Guardian. Both originated from the defunct downtown Zim's, when they were liquidating the remaining stock some unsalable items were put out for free. Hence, Baby Guardian. The original was merely balanced on the top of the gate and was subject to all of the elements. Frequently the face would go missing, and I would find it off down the alley. After time the original Guardian had a fine patina of grime. One day the face and hands were missing, never to be seen again. The second is tied on with a discarded duct tape blindfold, with an added third eye evoking its origin. Hopefully the second protector is more diligent than the first.
The glass stump is a collection of detritus encountered in the vicinity, then concentrated for embellishment as opposed to detraction.
Apparently, half of this entry is disqualified because it is not visible from the sidewalk, even though it is in plain sight from the public right of way in the alley running behind the property. In fact, this action may have excluded what I perceive to be the most creative aspect of this landscape. That’s because I have asserted ownership of this alley, where almost everybody else turns their back to it. Not only do I improve the visual appeal, these perceived “eyes on the street” could contribute to a safer atmosphere. Irrespective of any contest, please try to observe the perceptible shift in atmosphere when one witnesses intention juxtaposed with neglect*.
If you happen to be on the jury, you may not want to read the four next blogs unless you are on the sidewalk in front of my house, BUT don’t stray too far, or else miss the grand finale…
* One way I have tried to bridge that gap myself has been to guerrilla garden the alley with sunflowers transplanted from my folks house. Shout Out to Salt Lake Urban Guerrilla Gardeners (SLUGG), who have also made a valiant contribution to this exhibition.