According to these artists and thinkers, what does it mean to be connected to or dependent on water? How do they envision their connection to water? Is that connection personal or collective or both? How do you feel you are connected to water?
The River (1984)
by Mary Oliver
In one day the Amazon discharges into the Atlantic the equivalent of New York City’s water supply for nine years.
Just because I was born
precisely here or there,
in some cold city or other,
don’t think I don’t remember
how I came along like a grain
carried by the flood—
on one of the weedy threads that pour
toward a muddy lightning
surging east, past
monkeys and parrots, past
trees with their branches in the clouds, until
I was spilled forth
and slept under the blue lung
of the Caribbean.
Nobody
told me this. But little by little
the smell of mud and flowers returned to me,
and in dreams I began to grow dark,
to sense the current.
Do dreams lie? Once I was a sad fish
crying for my sisters in the glittering
crossroads of the delta.
Once among the thick reeds I found
an empty boat, as narrow
as a man’s waist. Nearby
the trees sizzled with the afternoon rain.
Home, I said.
In every language there is a word for it.
Deep in the body itself, climbing
those white walls of thunder, past those green
temples there is also
a word for it.
I said, home.
The Book of Eels (2020)
by Patrick Svensson
As you can see in just the Google preview of the book, this book mixes scientific information (chapter 1) with personal anecdote (chapter 2).
Repertory Dance Theater (RDT) is based in Salt Lake City. There's a rich tradition of Utah artists creating work about this state's amazing nature, a tradition you get to continue.
The choreographer Zvi Gotheiner said that this following piece "seemed to flow out of him after visiting southern Utah's redrock country. The piece includes humor, rhythm and references to all the life forces in nature….Gotheiner said he is not approaching the subject in a political way. 'For me it is a more visceral response. As a culture we have forgotten how to give back, we are always taking. We need to replenish and create rituals that close the circle — we are part of nature, we are not superior to it — we are connected to it.'"
On November 29, 2022, Katharine Hayhoe gave the following address on BYU campus.