Be Inspired

Sustainable Art

BY CHRISTIN DAUBERT

I'M OFTEN ASKED HOW I BELIEVE

“art” is defined, and I always respond with the same answer: Art makes you feel something. Nowhere is this truer than in sustainable art. You may think of art made of recycled plastic bottles or a sculpture from salvaged items when you think of “sustainable art,” but there is so much more to this movement.

Just as impressionism follows the principles of spontaneity and creating art outside versus in a studio, sustainable art follows principles like ecology and social justice, as well as providing artists and designers the opportunity to rethink their creative approach to art.

Some artists identify as Eco Artists because their materials and studio practices reflect a green footprint or they primarily use recycled materials. Others define their artwork as sustainable because it deals with or critiques environmental issues.

Either way, choosing sustainability is another challenge artists decide to add to their process so that their pieces might evoke more from the audience. Some of the best sustainable art works blur the lines between science and design, which benefits both the environment and audience.

It is through sustainable art that artists hope not only to change how their work is made but to inspire social and cultural change. Like so many issues we see or problems we want to fix, we may easily find ourself in a catatonic state asking, “How can I make a difference?” Even if you don’t consider yourself an artist or a particularly creative person, I want to share how sustainable art has influenced me to make small but measurable changes in my everyday life. Sustainability, after all, impacts us all.

I was first introduced to furoshiki about a decade ago when I received a birthday gift wrapped in a beautiful square of red and yellow floral fabric. I’m embarrassed to say that I didn’t think anything more than, “Aww, how cute and creative.” I had not heard of furoshiki and my friend didn’t mention the Japanese technique of wrapping gifts in cloth. Luckily my librarian brain bested me and I started researching.

Japan has lead the way in sustainability for centuries. The practice of furoshiki involves folding fabric around objects to protect valuables in transit. The term, which translates to “bath (furo) spread (shiki)” was first used in the Nara period (710–794). Fast-forward to 2006, the Japanese Minister of the Environment promoted furoshiki cloth in an effort to increase environmental awareness and reduce the use of plastic. So what does this have to do with sustainability today? I’m so glad you asked! Using fabric to wrap gifts for birthdays and holidays is a brilliant way to save the millions of yards of paper (and plastic) from being turned into waste every year.

I highly recommend watching a video on how to tie furoshiki (thank you, YouTube!). For the essentials, the cloth needs to be square (how large of a square depends on the item you’re wrapping). The most common sizes are 17 x 17 inches or 28 x 28 inches. Also, use a reversible pattern and a cloth that is thick enough to hold the weight of the gift. Wrapping in the furoshiki style can be challenging at first but the act of learning the techniques is all part of the creative process.

The second sustainable art technique is one I came across on Instagram. The post explained kintsugi, which is the beautiful process of repairing broken pottery with gold. Not only does kintsugi eliminate waste, it embraces imperfection. Kintsugi, which poetically translates into “golden joinery,” celebrates the brokenness of each piece with golden seams, rather than trying to hide or blend it back together. If you’re a romantic like me, you can easily see the jump from celebrating the imperfections in pottery to celebrating our imperfect selves. I repaired several antique plates that had no apparent value (other than that they were beautiful to me), with gold mika powder and a two part epoxy adhesive. Like with furoshiki, I highly recommend watching a video or two to get a better understanding of the process. Also make sure you’re using food-safe materials if you plan on eating off them!

Neither of my sustainable artturned-everyday-life-hacks may seem like art at first, but I know that giving gifts wrapped in fabric or celebrating those beautiful gold seams in my plates fills me with joy and accomplishment. I feel better knowing I’ve done a small something to reduce waste and add beauty to my world.

SP

Parenting Pines IN THE

Keep on Truckin'

BY AMANDA ODEN

EVERY WEDNESDAY MORNING in my house starts out the same. Before the sun has even fully risen, I will hear my 2 year old stir, followed by the slap of his little feet on the tile as he moves quickly down the hallway. Then I will feel his tiny toddler hand grab my arm. “Mommy, it’s GARBAGE DAY!” he will whisper-shout until he’s sure I’m awake.

I want to grumble that I’m exhausted—his 4-year-old sister has been having bad dreams and our newborn hasn’t slept for more than a two-hour stretch in a month. There are a million reasons why I would rather stay in bed until at least 7 a.m., but then we hear the rumble of the garbage truck’s

engine and I know we’ve got to move or we’re going to miss the highlight of Arlo’s week.

We run to the living room, pull back the blinds and I hoist him up on the couch for a better view as the ubiquitous garbage truck makes its weekly rounds down our street. Every single time the truck’s arm grabs a trash can, empties it into the back and sets it back down, my son says “whoa,” with reverence. I wish I had grabbed a cup of coffee to sip on as I watch my neighbor's garbage, and then their recycling, slowly rise and then fall into the rear loader. My husband makes a pot of coffee every morning before he leaves for work, and it smells delicious, realize that he is still processing all the major changes in our family dynamic and that he doesn’t mean it when he says he doesn’t love me. In my brain, I know all of this. Maybe it's the sleep deprivation or the postpartum hormones, but it feels like a knife in my heart and a punch in my gut each time he rejects me. So right now, I’m doing my best to connect to my son any way I can. And right now, that way seems to be trucks.

Arlo’s been obsessed with all things automobile since he was 6 months old. He’d take off his tiny baby shoes, flip them over, and make a little “vroom vroom” sound. He adores the weekly visit from the garbage truck, but he on Netflix while I try to get caught up on work or make Indy yet another bottle.

Last Sunday, I was driving home from doing the weekly grocery shopping (or as I like to call it, “me time”). I was alone in the van, but caught myself yelling out “bulldozer” and “ambulance” excitedly as I passed the different vehicles on the street. I was enthusiastic at first to spot them but then felt silly. I was by myself and it seemed foolish for a 36-year-old woman to get so passionate about a passing motor vehicle. I wished Arlo had been with me when I drove past a semi-truck. Maybe we could have made that universal up and down

We brought his new baby brother home four weeks ago, and since then Arlo has informed me that he doesn’t love me anymore. He still loves his daddy, he reminds me (frequently). But when I tell him I love him,

I get a simple “I do not love you” in return.

but I won’t go to the kitchen just yet. Instead, I snuggle closer to my son and rub his cheek against mine and breathe in the scent of his hair (which smells like baby shampoo with a hint of dirt). The truth is, I’m stealing every second I can with Arlo right now, so the coffee (and the bajillion other things I’ve been letting slip over the last few weeks) will have to wait.

We brought his new baby brother home four weeks ago, and since then Arlo has informed me that he doesn’t love me anymore. He still loves his daddy, he reminds me (frequently). But when I tell him I love him, I get a simple “I do not love you” in return.

I know that he is only 2, and now, suddenly, a middle child. And I also gets excited about almost all large vehicles, whether it’s a “Diggy” (excavator), a “mixer-ment” (cementmixer) or a school bus. Crane trucks, fire trucks, taco trucks, you name it, he gets excited about it. Driving around with him in the back seat is so fun because you just never know what kind of interesting vehicle is going to pull up next to you. “Mommy, did you see that dump truck?!?”

There just isn’t enough time in the day for everyone or anything, and I feel like I’m failing a little bit at everything right now. Am I spoiling him by buying a new truck toy every time I go to Target? I’m probably rotting his brain by letting him watch back-to-back episodes of Trash Truck honking motion and gotten the driver to blare his horn at us.

But for now, it’s Wednesday. GARBAGE DAY! I have so many things I should probably be doing, like starting breakfast for everyone or catching up on emails to clients. Maybe take a shower? But instead, I’m watching the sanitation worker methodically slog through our rubbish with my son by my side— happy that he is happy. When the garbage truck gets to the stop sign at the end of our cul de sac, Arlo yells “Thank you trash truck!” I sneak one more hug from him before another crazy day begins and mumble a concurring “Thank you, trash truck” under my breath.