September 2022

I did research in several different veins this week, further exploring gardens and borders. There are a couple of directions that look promising that I want to dig deeper into.

I read a little bit about the gender roles in maintaining cottage gardens, finding that it has gone back and forth between a feminine and a masculine duty over the centuries. I also learned that in the early 1800’s in England, there was an effort to give gardens to people in the working class. It was thought that “the male labourer possessing and possessed by his garden was to be made moral through useful bodily toil” (Sayer 45). Simplistic and paternalistic.

I then turned my attention to the Brachen in Berlin and several rewilding efforts. It is here that I want to spend the bulk of my research time moving forward, as I feel I have just scratched the surface and I am captivated. The Brachen in Berlin were abandoned spaces, caught between the eastern and the western sides of Germany during the Cold War. These spaces, at one time industralized, were allowed to fall into disrepair, and plants reclaimed the space. Then, once the wall fell, developers started re-taking these spaces. I ready about how these Brachen, for so many, represented hope and possibility when they were industrial voids — far more than anything they became.

I want to learn more about the power of plants to take over man-made things. I want to find examples of other places where this has been documented, and I want to research what happened in the first couple months of the pandemic when the US/Europe/Asia was at its most shut-down. I would like to capture the duality of the fragility and resilience of the plant species that inhabit our past and present.

Tactically, I am still interested in the mappamundi, and I think I want to make one from the perspective of the plants (likely local to Chicago) and try to use that as a media to record them/tell their story, or something along those lines. I found the mappamundi intriguing in that they “by exaggerating the spread of time depicted within their borders, the mappamundi also demonstrate that maps in general need not be seen as reflecting only spatial realities… they may also consist of historical aggregations or cumulative inventories of events that occur in space.” (Woodward 519). The mappamundi captured geography, yes, but also history, religious stories, and itineraries. They cant necessarily be used to locate latitude and longitude of towns, but they could probably tell you the order that you would come across those towns as you moved up a given river. There were also precise legends inscribed in them, and they captured illustrations of different animals and humans.

I think this is something I’d like to explore from the perspective of plants in Chicago. Maybe there is a good way to capture some of the history of the landscape and plant species as they have changed over time. Maybe there are ways to also capture the plants that are still here – weeds, cultivated, I’m not sure. I’d like to talk to someone at the Morton Arboretum or someplace similar for my interview to try to get some of that information. Also, just as the people who were trying to protect the Brachen in Berlin did not put them on a map for fear of calling attention to them, I like that a mappamundi would not give you terribly accurate locales of any of the plants included. Not that I’m all that worried, but it ties in with our reading about refusal, as well.

I really liked all 3 of the readings and the video as well. For me the three have somewhat of a common thread. Space exists, kind of by definition, in between things. So in order to define a space we need to first have a division between two things. In the case of The Forgotten Space the sea is a division between where goods are produced and ultimately purchased or distributed. In The Poetics of Space, spaces are defined by the structure of a house and objects within it. In Archipelagos of Design spaces are the characterized by the categories and labels placed on people and places. I guess a way to think about the three pieces together might be that a physical space (like in Poetics) is built from physical materials that arrive via the “forgotten” space of the ocean via shipping container. These materials and objects are then the building blocks that form the foundation, basement, walls, floors, and roof of the building. Then from Archipelagos there is the question of who is allowed to fill that space and how are they to do it? I’m not sure if that makes sense at all, but it kind of helped me connect the three of them.

As some additional thoughts, I like how Forgotten Space highlights how as consumer and a society as a whole we are very disconnected with how goods actually reach us. I am totally one of the people who assumed almost everything comes by land or sky and that boats are kind of a thing of the past. I intuitively knew that was not wrong (since I see boats going through NYC) but I definitely didn’t think that 90% of goods are transported by ship! Also, I loved the idea brought up in Poetics about how a space is changed by what an individual brings into that space. When we fill a house with objects and memories it becomes a home and takes on its own personality and traits. I also really liked the idea that those traits transcend the individual and become part of the space itself. It totally explains why certain spaces have a vibe or feeling associated with them. It’s like hearing the echoes of everyone and everything that once occupied that space in some capacity or another. I also really like how Archipelagos touches on that idea as well but from the opposite perspective. That empty spaces have a resonance because of what they were and what they may one day become.

I am struggling to capture a specific structure towards my post for our readings, so I wanted to write out a few of my responses and how they resonated with me. Maybe they will act as foder for discussion within our group or start the thread or spark of curiosity to lead to a larger through line.

The reading from Gloria Anzaldua’s Borderlands has particularly resonated with me. Outside of my general curiosity on the topic of borders that I noted in our first class meeting, paired with my recent travels across many state borders, driving from the east to west coasts, this topic has been very timely as I have skimmed the US/Mexico border multiple times on this trip. This sentiment of “other” was extremely poignant entering into California from a US state and still being subject to a giant checkpoint to enter the state. I found this very jarring, and could only imagine what it is like to live in the boarder lands, living your normal life, minding your business with this ominous structure and feeling attached to it, as Anzaldua notes:

Hatred, anger and exploitation are the prominent features of this landscape.

When I think of the necessity of borders, I think back to our readings in Emergent Strategy, as well as some of the topics we discussed in the summer in Concepts, Cultures, & Critiques class; regarding who holds the power and the gaze that interprets, draws and enforces these borders?

Going further and exploring the topic of borders as parameters explored in society, self, sexuality, and norms was also very interesting to delve into in the context of “otherness” within your own community. As Anzaldua writes:

The queer are the mirror reflecting the heterosexual tribe’s fear: being different, being other and therefore lesser, therefore sub-human, non-human.

So again, I wonder, what is the true purpose of borders? A line of demarkation to enforce different laws, whether from a government, our gender expectations, or familial obligations. Shouldn’t we all as humans should be living under the basic laws, freedoms, and choice?

I am reminded of an exhibit I saw the the Brooklyn Museum this summer from artist Guadalupe Maravilla, titled; Tierra Blance Joven (Young White Earth). In this work, Maravilla showcases the life of an undocumented cancer patient, exploring the themes of care and migrant crisis from El Salvador. While slightly different context, the idea of freedoms and rights, and who is deserving of them rang true to me.

Additionally, I spent this past weekend with my future mother in law and sister in law, both immigrants of the Phillipines. As I spoke about wedding and family traditions and the desire to fuse my American traditions with my fiance’s Filipino heritage, the topic of the assimilation in the context of migration and American culture was largely discussed. I found our conversation harkening back to some of the ideas and themes described in the Borderlands text. Especially around otherness/whiteness, gender roles, and marriage. No matter the culture, these constructs, or borders, are a universal topic that both separates and unites us. (An idea I am fixated on when thinking about my sub-topic of canals as well.)

There were so many quotes I jotted down and noted while reading Anzaldua’s text, but this one stood out most:

Like a turtle wherever I go I carry home on my back.

While I understand the context in this situation, I believe this quote can be taken in many different ways, which makes it that much more beautiful. No matter our circumstances, immigrant or otherwise, this is a shared sentiment of the human experience. We all carry our homes on our backs, and it is what makes us who we are, for better or for worse, no matter how far or close we are from our homes.

Where reading Anzaldua’s text may inspire the thought of open borders, the reading from Metahaven Reading ” Captives of the Cloud” evokes the feeling of anxiety and need for security, when thinking of the 9/11 attacks and other spy activity on the internet.

The people on the internet live in territories. They have citizenship. But this feedback loop doesn’t activate political agency. What, after all, really is the connection between these things?

Alternatively, we walk a fine line when we think about personal data an shared data. When you throw in the fact that access to the internet is also a disproportionate scale, it further tangles the web of how do we shape this space to be both inclusive and safe for everyone?

Lastly, I find it very interesting that both of these readings have such relevance in what we are dealing with here in the US  between the controversial actions of DeSantis and transporting migrants to Martha’s Vineyard, or our former president not being held to similar standards of national security. Through this lens, it will be even more fascinating to see how these issues play out and how this study will further my insights in the matters at hand.

I hope this doesn’t read too much like rambling! I enjoyed the sentiments of both readings and look forward to discussing further with you all.

As I go through the readings assigned specifically about kinship, I have a lot of ideas swirling around my head, and am struggling to get them organized enough to have an idea to write about. So I thought I’d just get writing and see what comes out.

• With regard to colonial organisms:
  • In some types of colonial organisms, there are different zooid types, that have different jobs. Some are the protectors, some are the navigators, etc. At first I assumed that each zooid was equal with one another, regardless of their “job”.
  • I’ve been struggling a bit to understand the difference between colonial organisms, and organisms that live in a colony. My high level understanding of colonial organisms are organisms that are comprised of lots of smaller organisms (zooids). The zooids are attached to each other (I think), and would not survive without each other. Organisms such as coral are easy for me to identify as colonial organisms. But what about ants? They live in a colony, and I don’t think they would survive very well solo. But they’re not physically connected – is this a requirement to be considered a colonial organism?
  • After reading the introduction to Slanted Things by Lynn Margulis and Dorion Sagan, I couldn’t get the concept of Gaia out of my head, and Margulis and Sagan’s simple definition: “Gaia theory… views Earth’s biosphere (the place where life exists) as a single, self-regulating entity: the Earth is alive.” Could Earth be a colonial organism? Maybe my desire to have an exact definition of what a colonial organism is and is not really isn’t that helpful. Everything on earth is connected to each other in some way – even if it’s by air, and gravity, energy. And I think that all organisms on earth require some sort of relationship with another organism in order to survive.
  • “Strictly speaking, to be symbionts individual members of at least two species myst touch each other most of the time”
  • “… all living things on Earth are in physical contact through tis water, atmosphere and soils, and that they all dwell in a coating on the surface of a limited planet”
  • At some point, I began to wonder if there is any sort of hierarchy in the structures that zooids make. Are the navigators more important than the feeders for example? Is there any sort of subjugation amongst the zooids? Are the colonialist colonial organisms?
  • What does it mean to be an individual?
• With regard to my guide project:
  • At first I thought I wanted to do something similar to the Parable of the Polygon by Nikki Case. I was thinking of showing the relationship between zooids in a colonial organism by allowing the user to drag shapes that represent different zooids around on their screen. But as the past few weeks have shown, time spent doing technical work in front of a computer is not something my life is lacking at the moment. Between Connections Lab and my day-to-day work, I am in front of a screen a lot! Maybe it would be beneficial to do something a bit more analog for this class.
  • I’ve been thinking about kinship in terms of connection, and one way that I understand connection is through physical contact with the work that I’m doing. This would lend itself to a more analog exploration.
  • As I was brainstorming some ideas for my guide, this Instagram post came up, which shows people making paper doll cats out of paper with brass fasteners to hold the joints together. Something with paper form, that are connected with yarn or something could be an interesting physical representation of what a colonial organism is.