When we work in nature we leave no trace behind us. A piece is created, breathes for a minute and is then torn apart – its existence remaining only in documentation. Something that has taken an hour to build is dismantled in one minute. It’s a good exercise in zen and in letting go. This piece, however, stayed on site for a couple of hours, as we felt the need to give it some time to be while we were making a few more works close by, on the same beautiful and mostly empty beach. After we finished (and took them all down) a woman approached us and asked what we meant by “don’t let go”. She then told us that she considered this a message from god, took a picture of it and sent to her daughter. “My daughter, a recent rescue from human trafficking, is a drug addict. She’s in a bad place. She lost custody of her two year old child and disappeared for eight months. A month ago we got a phone call from a hospital in South Carolina. The doctor said that if we want to see her alive we should come immediately. She’s with us now, struggling to get back on her feet. Struggling to believe in life again. This is a message to her, to continue, to believe, to not let go.”
Atlanta just kept on keeping us, day after day, with exceptional human beings and their incredible hospitality. By the time we left for Savannah, it was days behind schedule and getting dark. We stopped for the night in a bog of reflections, where tree barks simultaneously reach to the heavens and to the depths. Ground level becomes an in-between place, a paper-thin layer between two dimensions.
We had reached Decatur to do the “being” mural and left the Atlanta Metro more than two weeks later. Two weeks in which we did 5 masterclasses, a city event, an exhibition, and a mural. Several of the aforementioned exceptional human beings had also given us future dots on our map, places to go and people to meet. It had been so overwhelming in the best of ways, that all we could do now was use this place of reflections to reflect, to digest, to recharge before heading on.
For a week in late September, in mostly sympathetic weather, we created this large mural right at the city square of Decatur, GA. Our hosts -an exceptional dance group and powerful Amazonian tribe called CORE. Here is a poem and text we wrote to accompany it:
You develop a sense of self,
you define your borders,
you defend the land.
But it’s only when you let others in and let yourself out,
when you embrace the fear that is inherent in connection,
it is only then that you can truly be”.
Human connection is at the core of our being. The word ‘being’ itself encapsulates a life cycle – You come into this world (be). You define your own self (be I). But it’s only through connection, through becoming a part of something bigger than yourself (be in), that you can truly be (being). The Black Birds encompass a duality: a tension between the pulling force of the ground and the endless promise of the open sky. Our history, our past, our roots can all be sources of great strength or chains that hold us back. But the birds and their ‘chains’ are made of the same, soft material. That which can unravel them, also grants them wings. If they choose to fly high enough for long enough, they will unravel the tangle and get all the thread they need. If they so choose, they’ll be free. Lastly, the building or breaking down of a word (adding or subtracting the next letter) is a conceptual act that aims to strengthen or weaken an idea, to bring something into or out of existence.