Thoreau on art and nature: a double post

Eliot Porter's cover for In Wildness...

I’ve been rereading Thoreau because I preparing to give a talk at Unitarian Universalist Church West about him and his relationship to my own Urban Wilderness pursuits. I came across the following quote in one of the seminal books that has inspired me, In Wildness is the Preservation of the World, by Eliot Porter.

"It has come to this, –that the lover of art is one, and the lover of nature another, though true art is but the expression of our love of nature. It is monstrous when one cares but little about trees and much about Corinthian columns, and yet this is exceedingly common."

It is the perfect quote for a crossover post for my two blogs. If you’ve been following one and not the other (which is exceedingly common, as far as I can tell) I now invite you to go to the introductory page on my website that explains why I have two blogs:
My blogs.

My talk is called “Faint-hearted crusader: finding Thoreau in the city.” If you’re so inclined, I also invite you to come to church and find out what I have to say about that. For more information about the service, and directions to the church, go to UUCW.

To learn more about the Urban Wilderness Project (and see lots more pictures), go to my website.

From Urban Wilderness: Exploring a Metropolitan Watershed

Arts Without Borders returns from across the border

I've been absent from the blogosphere for nearly 3 weeks because I've literally been across the border - a long way across, in Nicaragua. Even after a week back in the US it's hard to readjust to "normal life." I'm writing a longer piece about this but it's taking a while, so I thought I'd simply post this note with a couple of teaser images from my trip.

I go to Nicaragua every other summer with a group from Unitarian Universalist Church West, where I'm a member, to build houses under the auspices of a non-profit called Bridges to Community. I've written much more about these experiences on my website. This summer marks my sixth "brigade." Although I've always taken pictures, each time I go I find myself easing a little further out of the role of construction worker and into the welcome role of photographer. As I was still nursing an injury from shortly before this trip the role was more guilt free than usual.

The image above shows Antonia kissing her son Axel. It could be anywhere and is blatantly sentimental. But it isn't anywhere, which is the point. Antonia is the new owner of one of the two houses that our brigade built in four days in collaboration with a professional crew of masons provided by Bridges and with other members of the local community. Antonia herself worked very hard, mixing concrete, lifting heavy blocks, and everything we needed to do.

The image below is more symbolic of the relationship between brigadistas from the US and the local community. Jackson, on the left in this image, is the proud owner of this second house under construction. He is pictured with Dana, from Milwaukee. They are working together and, as in every brigade I've been on, have created a bond that transcends language, culture, and geography. We see this through the narrow grid of construction material, the metaphorical frame that unites them - and partially obscures what they are about. It is my hope to bring their effort into view with my photography.

To see more images from the brigade, go to my flickr page.

To learn more about the Nicaraguan experience, go to my website.