I hope each of us asks this question often: what is environmental impact? And what is my environmental impact?
Sometimes, my subjects are endangered species and extinction. Sometimes they are about climate change. Sometimes I focus my gaze on bees or social (in)equality and education. And sometimes environmental impact is, intimately, about the landscapes of internal darkness, that which is hidden underneath: vulnerability, fragility, fear, trauma, uncertainty, loss, humanity, courage, connection and love—of place, of animals, of self, of people we care about. Environmental impact is melting icecaps and hugging a tender-hearted, teary child. Environmental impact is prioritizing your people you love with kisses and fat hugs, and prioritizing voting and recycling and consuming conscientiously. Environmental impact is renewable energy: the sun, wind and water BUT ALSO renewable energy is love, laughter, inclusion, compassion and education. Environmental impact is a conversation of layers, external and internal. Environmental impact is the perpetual ask: how is this environment (this person, this house, this land, this planet…) better because I was here?
Our attraction to beauty is part of our humanity. It connects us. In the natural world, on a canvas, in a song or an architectural masterpiece, beauty has the ability to restore dignity and hope. Art has the power to unite beyond words or explanations or language or cerebral data points or race or gender or socioeconomics or orientation or religion or politics. From a visceral, emotional place, art has the potential to inspire people to care. Only when people care, when they feel emotionally connected, are they compelled to question, to learn, to grow, to change, to take action. And action—heartfelt, united, compassionate action—can change the world.
Environmental Impact and Renewable Energy
9/24/2018
I hope each of us asks this question often: what is environmental impact? And what is my environmental impact?
Sometimes, my subjects are endangered species and extinction. Sometimes they are about climate change. Sometimes I focus my gaze on bees or social (in)equality and education. And sometimes environmental impact is, intimately, about the landscapes of internal darkness, that which is hidden underneath: vulnerability, fragility, fear, trauma, uncertainty, loss, humanity, courage, connection and love—of place, of animals, of self, of people we care about. Environmental impact is melting icecaps and hugging a tender-hearted, teary child. Environmental impact is prioritizing your people you love with kisses and fat hugs, and prioritizing voting and recycling and consuming conscientiously. Environmental impact is renewable energy: the sun, wind and water BUT ALSO renewable energy is love, laughter, inclusion, compassion and education. Environmental impact is a conversation of layers, external and internal. Environmental impact is the perpetual ask: how is this environment (this person, this house, this land, this planet…) better because I was here?
Our attraction to beauty is part of our humanity. It connects us. In the natural world, on a canvas, in a song or an architectural masterpiece, beauty has the ability to restore dignity and hope. Art has the power to unite beyond words or explanations or language or cerebral data points or race or gender or socioeconomics or orientation or religion or politics. From a visceral, emotional place, art has the potential to inspire people to care. Only when people care, when they feel emotionally connected, are they compelled to question, to learn, to grow, to change, to take action. And action—heartfelt, united, compassionate action—can change the world.
