"I think it is better not to obscure the despair, because real hope lies only on it's other side. Despair is part of the territory we must traverse...True optimism comes from having traversed the territory of despair and taken its measure. It is not ignorant of the magnitude of the crisis nor unaware of the forces that stand in the path of healing. Optimism lies on the other side of despair, and hope is its herald"

- Charles Eisenstein, The More Beautiful World Our Hearts Know is Possible


The Flowers Are Burning: An Art and Climate Justice Collaborative Project  began with paintings about loss. Both of us struggled to understand that creatures of nature that we loved were dying. We felt compelled to paint them as a way to deal with disbelief, anger and grief. Then we realized we wanted to paint not only to express ourselves, we were moved to use our brushes in the service of the nature that we loved. Frankly, we needed to help.  Yet how to navigate the pain?

A personal relationship with nature leads to appreciation for those varied but important parts that make up the whole of our ecosystems. Eisenstein states, "We need to come into a direct, caring, sensuous relationship with THIS forest, THIS mountain, THIS river, THIS tiny plot of land, and protect them for their own sake....our salvation must come from recovering a direct relationship with what's alive in front of us"

During our art exhibitions we ask our audiences to reflect on these two questions:

        What do you love that needs protecting?       What are you moved to do about it?

At the exhibition we provide a place for our audience to write their stories of what they love that is missing and endangered.

Designed around the belief that we will act to save that which we love, The Flowers Are Burning is a traveling art exhibition and collaborative environmental project. It urges each of us to take immediate action in whatever way we are able, to alleviate the damage of climate change.  We seek to link people's concerns about the natural world with resources that encourage involvement in making changes that protect what is in peril.

Please email us on our contact page for other art/science collaborations, organizations working to mitigate the effects on climate change, pollution, overuse and habitat destruction the you know we should include. We especially seek connections to efforts related to building coalitions aimed at taking actions, small and large, on behalf of the planet and all the creatures that inhabit it.

We will share these resources here on this website. The book of stories will travel with us to each exhibition and be an ongoing testament to our interconnectedness. Our goal is to add to the growing global community of caring people who are inspired to be part of the solution.

Decide what you love enough to do something to save it. Please share with us those efforts so others can do the same.

Helen's Story   

Picture
Bees at work
' I grew up on a farm in the Driftless area of Southwestern Wisconsin.  No one worried about us being unsafe as I and my sisters roamed the woods and pastures from dawn to dusk, following the cow paths, climbing the trees, and learning about the wild creatures that lived on the farm with our family. My family homesteaded that farm and it was managed in a sustainable way for generations.

Memories of flocks of bright yellow Goldfinches moving quickly in mass across the pasture and eating seeds from the Mullein plants, whose blossoms shared their bright yellow, are still with me. I knew where the apples, plums, black berries, wild grapes, and chokecherries grew.  None of them were ever sprayed with anything and I learned to eat around the worms.  I learned to respect the rattlesnakes and avoid their rocky dens, and how to sit very still  if I wanted to see the baby fox.  I knew how to follow a wild bee back to its honey comb filled hive. I got to know the call of the Whippoorwill, Bobolinks, and Catbirds, and where the Bald Eagle’s nest was.  It became possible for me to predict when to expect the Monarchs by looking at what was blooming.  I grew up eating from the garden and the woods and I knew the names of all the cows. I knew where all the food came from, and the changes that would come as seasons progressed. I grew up feeling part of the land I lived on.

I learned to draw and paint as a way to look carefully at the things around me.  I learned that careful looking was aided by art because it made you notice what you were missing and how one part was connected to another.  I grew up with no money but with incredible plenty and privilege.

An ecosystem in balance is a beautiful thing.

Things have changed.  It is going to take some work to achieve some kind of balance again so we can have a sustainable future for humans, animals, plants and other natural systems that meet our needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to survive and prosper. This is not possible if humans sustain themselves but the extinction rate for plants and animals continues its upward trajectory, or if half the world is prospering while the other half starves.

The only thing I know how to do is to use my art, and others' creative visions too, to look carefully, to try to notice what we were missing and to see how the parts of a sustainable future are connected to each other.  Let's try.

Like Mary Kay, I will be tithing at least 10% of any income from art sales on this project toward environmental projects  that are working to change policies that hurt us, and restore ecological balance.

Mary Kay's Story

Picture
Sunflower Sea Star
Many years ago, I was approached by a sunflower sea star (commonly called starfish) as I walked in the shallow waters of a low tide. This creature moves rapidly (compared to most tide pool creatures) and as it came closer I stood still as a statue. This little beauty touched my shoe, my pant leg, and as I stood, mesmerized, it felt around my entire leg before finally moving away into the shallows and the kelp, disappearing into the ocean that it came from. My heart was completely, totally given over.

As an artist, I have loved the sunflowers of Van Gogh for decades, and have been painting them with abandon for 20 years. So discovering another kind of sunflower that lived in the tide pool landscape was serendipitous. A 24-legged starfish that moved rapidly, that was orange, purple, hot pink, and yellow, with 15,000 delicate suction-cupped tube feet was an animal that was an artist's dream come true. That it actually approached me on that beautiful low-tide April morning was one of the most beautiful moments of my life.

When I traveled to the West Coast in April 2015,  I visited the tide pools hoping to commune with the sea stars. While looking out over the mussel beds that should have been covered with hundreds of purple sea stars, I was joined by a woman who lived nearby. She mentioned how beautiful it was to see the tide pools. I asked her, "Do you notice anything missing?" She stopped for a few moments and looked around and said, "Where are the starfish?"

Sea stars have died in mass numbers in the largest marine die-off ever recorded and they may not recover. They need our help. I have challenged myself to depict these creatures during a time of crises for them, while they are actually melting away. My Melting Sea Star Series  and Tidepools in Crises Series, which were painful to create in some ways, are dedicated to the beautiful sunflower sea stars that have died in the millions, and to the new generation of junveniles that will hopefully bring them back from the brink.

I am donating 10% of sales of my artwork to the Dr. Drew Harvell's research into Sea Star Wasting Disease and I hope others will also be moved to make a donation . The funds will go directly Sea Star Wasting research and monitoring the health of marine ecosystems. It is my hope that solutions to the recovery of the beautiful sunflower stars I love can occur before it is too late.