Energy and Place Project
Essential Questions:
How does energy production impact place?
And...
How does your sense of place, your environmental ethic, and your understanding of our energy needs influence your perception of man’s use of Earth’s resources and your own lifestyle decisions?
And...
How does your sense of place, your environmental ethic, and your understanding of our energy needs influence your perception of man’s use of Earth’s resources and your own lifestyle decisions?
Below are the visuals that visually articulate my sense of place.
Artist Statement:
“My Earth, My Climb, My Home,” is about my experience of feeling interconnected with the Earth through climbing. It tells the story of my experience of looking at rock closely and observing how each layer of rock comes from a different time and how one can understand history through studying the very rock that we climb. In my writing, I talk about some of the physical and mental sensations I experience while climbing. My photos were taken throughout three climbing trips in Sailing Hawks, East Animas, and Watch Crystal located in the Durango Colorado area. I decided to make my photos in Micro Photography to better show how rock looks the eyes of a climber while in route.
Essay: My Earth, My Climb, My Home
The rock face seems to be more than a mile in height. Thousands of feet of amber and sage colors tower over me in granite peeks and steep slopes, rising one above the other until reaching a summit. I could not imagine what the cliff would look like without it’s own story of years of weathering. The sunrise is not spectacular today. The vivid rose and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were still sleeping, hidden behind the limestone walls. There are some mornings when the sunlight seems to dance, weave, and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass, but not today. The morning is clear, crisp, and covered in early morning dew. Today, the sky is indifferent to my plans. High up in the treetops, the leaves sway, but on the ground, the grass is silent, limp, and unmoving. The wall waits for me.
There is a common conversation in a climber’s life: Do we climb because we have a death wish, or do we climb because of an undying appreciation for life on earth, no matter where or how is exists. For myself, a girl who very much exists on cliff sides, I think the second. I climb because of an undying appreciation for all of Earth’s life, no matter the form in which it thrives. It just so happens that I thrive while 75feet above the Earth hanging on a limb, literally.
Though I have only seen small pieces of it, I have contemplated the Earth without understanding it. I have felt the immense energies of its waters and astonished by the depth of its oceans. Since I was little, I have set my eyes upon learning about the earth. When I was seven, my mother gave me a subscription to a children’s science magazine that told the story of evolution. There I learned about the fundamentals of the earth’s history. However, I understood the history of the earth when I started to climb.
Here in front of me, the cliff whispers the history of the earth. It was born from the life of the ocean that once covered the entire planet. Its limestone face is a vast graveyard of billions of skeletons of marine animals accumulated at the bottom of the seas. These organisms created the air I breathe and the atmosphere that protects me. These organisms are called stromatolites, the oldest form of life on earth. I am a descendent from these one-celled bacteria, which came into being 4 billion years ago on the surface of the ocean. Here, in front of me, are the origins of mankind’s story. And I am going to climb it.
I step on, planting my hands and feet upon the first holds. I look up. I breathe out through my nose and rotate my arm outward to reach the next hold. I am on my way now. The first seven moves are flowing, equal with my breathing and reach. The rock that I pass is the oldest. It set the foundation for the cliffside that shoots from the Earth. In my heart, I feel a sense of gratitude for the marine life whose body ended up here. Without them, the wall’s formation would be impossible. When I come to the crux, my arms shake with exhaustion. I think of my father’s words: “You can, you can’t. Both are true. The choice is yours.” I push on.
My breath is sharp and fast through gritted teeth. I climb through a series of angulations over and around layers of fossilized life whose existence lead to my own. I extend my arm outward and find my hold. Clip in. I bring my toe level with my hips and let my skeletal system slack before pulling my body upward. Clip in. Both my hands find the same hold while my feet loose footing leaving my body swinging like the leaves I now towered above.
My feet search for the rock, my pulse is in my ears. “Shit!” My biceps tremble bearing the weight of my whole body. My breath is uneven and choppy. I am suddenly aware of my bloody palms and fingernails. And even though my body radiates with pain and the skin on my fingers rip and shred with each move, I feel the essence of my home strongly here. I pull my body up, looking onward. My last hold is in sight. Tirelessly, I simultaneously scream and push upward leaving the rock entirely for a moment. My palms collide with the final hold as a smile creeps across my teeth. As I clip in I feel the rock under my shredded fingertips. I feel the cool limestone under my beaten hands. It soothes them. My eyes trace the white and gray tones of the cliff face.
At once, I am no longer just a human in the long line of living organisms. I am an extension of the rock face itself. I have the ability to harbor faults and edges just as this cliff does. I remember the one-celled stamatalights. They are made of 100trillion atoms, more then all of the stars in the Milky Way. I think back to the children’s science magazine that once occupied my time. Each atom in each cell of the flesh of living organisms is formed in the core of star billions of years ago. Both myself and the ocean-dwelling creatures whose bones created the face of rock that I am now rappelling down are made from the same thing. The rock and myself, two different results of the same story connected in a place I call home.
I speak to you now, reader. Where is your place? Where is the place in which you can too experience the interconnectedness of the earth, urban or rural? Is it too, the feeling of being an extension of the earth itself looking into the eyes of challenge? Could it be the feeling of the waves rolling over your back as you take a dive into the ocean? Is it in the arms of a loved one, or possibly holding the one you love? Is it a moment? A situation? My dear reader, find your place. Find your place and love it, protect it. Let it be the standing reminder of your place in the earth. Because, when one finds their place, just as the stromatolites did, great things can be accomplished.
There is a common conversation in a climber’s life: Do we climb because we have a death wish, or do we climb because of an undying appreciation for life on earth, no matter where or how is exists. For myself, a girl who very much exists on cliff sides, I think the second. I climb because of an undying appreciation for all of Earth’s life, no matter the form in which it thrives. It just so happens that I thrive while 75feet above the Earth hanging on a limb, literally.
Though I have only seen small pieces of it, I have contemplated the Earth without understanding it. I have felt the immense energies of its waters and astonished by the depth of its oceans. Since I was little, I have set my eyes upon learning about the earth. When I was seven, my mother gave me a subscription to a children’s science magazine that told the story of evolution. There I learned about the fundamentals of the earth’s history. However, I understood the history of the earth when I started to climb.
Here in front of me, the cliff whispers the history of the earth. It was born from the life of the ocean that once covered the entire planet. Its limestone face is a vast graveyard of billions of skeletons of marine animals accumulated at the bottom of the seas. These organisms created the air I breathe and the atmosphere that protects me. These organisms are called stromatolites, the oldest form of life on earth. I am a descendent from these one-celled bacteria, which came into being 4 billion years ago on the surface of the ocean. Here, in front of me, are the origins of mankind’s story. And I am going to climb it.
I step on, planting my hands and feet upon the first holds. I look up. I breathe out through my nose and rotate my arm outward to reach the next hold. I am on my way now. The first seven moves are flowing, equal with my breathing and reach. The rock that I pass is the oldest. It set the foundation for the cliffside that shoots from the Earth. In my heart, I feel a sense of gratitude for the marine life whose body ended up here. Without them, the wall’s formation would be impossible. When I come to the crux, my arms shake with exhaustion. I think of my father’s words: “You can, you can’t. Both are true. The choice is yours.” I push on.
My breath is sharp and fast through gritted teeth. I climb through a series of angulations over and around layers of fossilized life whose existence lead to my own. I extend my arm outward and find my hold. Clip in. I bring my toe level with my hips and let my skeletal system slack before pulling my body upward. Clip in. Both my hands find the same hold while my feet loose footing leaving my body swinging like the leaves I now towered above.
My feet search for the rock, my pulse is in my ears. “Shit!” My biceps tremble bearing the weight of my whole body. My breath is uneven and choppy. I am suddenly aware of my bloody palms and fingernails. And even though my body radiates with pain and the skin on my fingers rip and shred with each move, I feel the essence of my home strongly here. I pull my body up, looking onward. My last hold is in sight. Tirelessly, I simultaneously scream and push upward leaving the rock entirely for a moment. My palms collide with the final hold as a smile creeps across my teeth. As I clip in I feel the rock under my shredded fingertips. I feel the cool limestone under my beaten hands. It soothes them. My eyes trace the white and gray tones of the cliff face.
At once, I am no longer just a human in the long line of living organisms. I am an extension of the rock face itself. I have the ability to harbor faults and edges just as this cliff does. I remember the one-celled stamatalights. They are made of 100trillion atoms, more then all of the stars in the Milky Way. I think back to the children’s science magazine that once occupied my time. Each atom in each cell of the flesh of living organisms is formed in the core of star billions of years ago. Both myself and the ocean-dwelling creatures whose bones created the face of rock that I am now rappelling down are made from the same thing. The rock and myself, two different results of the same story connected in a place I call home.
I speak to you now, reader. Where is your place? Where is the place in which you can too experience the interconnectedness of the earth, urban or rural? Is it too, the feeling of being an extension of the earth itself looking into the eyes of challenge? Could it be the feeling of the waves rolling over your back as you take a dive into the ocean? Is it in the arms of a loved one, or possibly holding the one you love? Is it a moment? A situation? My dear reader, find your place. Find your place and love it, protect it. Let it be the standing reminder of your place in the earth. Because, when one finds their place, just as the stromatolites did, great things can be accomplished.
Link to the Chemistry Portion of this project: http://www.weebly.com/weebly/main.php#
Project Reflection:
In this project students were asked to write an essay and create an art piece that visually articulated our connection to our place. For my visual I chose to micro photography because it better showed what climbing looks like from the point of view of a climber. During work time I was consistently inspired by looking at other peoples places and their ways of articulating the connection they feel. One specific work of art created by Friends Of The Earth I was inspired by was:
While In project work time I went through a lot of personal growth with the topics. One specific thing that proved to be a huge challenge for me was articulating what my environmental ethic is. In my heart I had a deep sense of what it was but I had a really hard time articulating it. One thing that really helped me push through that challenge was learning about the Gaia theory. Gaia is the personification of the Earth and is the idea that all life forms on Earth are dependent upon each other for existence. When I learned that, it made my environmental ethic come out much more beautifully in a way I can be proud of.
I am really proud of this project, both visually and in my writing. While creating my visual I struggled a lot with getting out my of comfort zone and doing something other than painting. However, in the end I chose to do micro photography because it was out of my comfort zone and it proved to be awesome choice because the photos came out beautifully. While writing I was really proud of my use of figurative language. Specifically in the first paragraph when I say; "The sunrise is not spectacular today. The vivid rose and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were still sleeping, hidden behind the limestone walls. There are some mornings when the sunlight seems to dance, weave, and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass, but not today. The morning is clear, crisp, and covered in early morning dew. Today, the sky is indifferent to my plans." In the end I was really proud of my work, not only because it met all of the expectations of the rubric and because it achieved a high grade, but because it really describes the beauty of my place.
This project crossed over into the "Energy and Place" project in chemistry beautifully. It allowed students to touch on the analytical side of having a home and the more spiritual connection of being at your home. The humanities portion helped students uncover where specifically we feel is our place and who is trying to take those places away, whereas the chemistry portion showed us how we can fight to protect our place. Chemistry helped students answer the first essential question; "How does energy production impact place?" Where humanities helped students answer; "How does your sense of place, your environmental ethic, and your understanding of our energy needs influence your perception of man’s use of Earth’s resources and your own lifestyle decisions?" All in all the two different projects complimented each other beautifully and allowed us to examine where we feel our home is through the eyes of a scientist and a poet, both parts of ourselfs that two amazing teaches brought out of us.