Yesterday I spent a chunk of the afternoon cleaning up my street. Our hill is too steep for the street cleaners to dare come up or down, so trash collects. I started at the bottom corner of Castro where a pink plastic bag of trash has been sitting for days getting closer and closer to the storm drain. As I approached with my rubber gloves, trash bag and robo-tongs (a delightful holdout from Coastal Clean-up day) I noticed that wedged between the bars of the drain, almost pushed through, was a flattened plastic water bottle. Despite being an ardent foe of plastic water bottles in principle, I have always, in my heart, been somewhat incredulous that they actually get into the storm drains and thus into our waterways and oceans. But here it was...happening. I carefully plucked the bottle by its neck out from between the drain grid, careful not to push it through and be lost to pollute our oceans.
As well as picking up along our beaches, it is equally important to pick up in our neighborhoods and everywhere we are. Keep plastic out of the drains! The current issue of the New Yorker has a fascinating article on plastics and their environmental consequences.
This small air bladder is from a feather boa kelp. Air bladders (of varying sizes) are particular to the brown algae family; they are instrumental in keeping the seaweed blades closer to the surface for better access to light and thus better ability to photosynthesize. Isn't it adorable!
It felt like a hurricane on the beach today. The onshore wind worked fiercely against the small waves, which had a hard time coming in to meet the shore. A large flock of geese would rise and group, but making no headway would come down and stand at the waters edge making a fuss, bill into the wind. It was low tide and large clumps of dark seaweed were distributed in batches all over the sand, wrenched from their underwater world and left on the beach. Individual bits would occasionally blow off from a clump and tumble towards the water. Unlike a shell or sand dollar or smooth piece of driftwood, these clumps of organic matter were not inviting--they were dark, sticky and tangled.
But I was here to collect this seaweed, not stones or shells or driftwood. I dutifully inspected each clump and was astonished at the variety I found. Although I could only affirm basic distinctions amidst the jumble, there were clearly an astonishing array of algae tangled together: some smooth, some bumpy, some bright green, most reddish brown, some frilly and some simple and flat with remarkable shapes. I dumped a few clumps into my cooler bag. There was one in particular that I had an inkling was long and spikey but it was a tangle of dark green strands so I dumped it in with the others.
At home I separated out each sample seaweed, rinsed it under the tap and dropped it into a tub of salt water. As soon as it hit the water, its rightful medium, it came to life--its form and color and translucent sensuality awakened. Pale pinks with textures mingled with bright greens and yellow oranges. I found the green spikey and after rinsing it I tried to lay it out flat and find its form.. As I tried to tease out the delicate blades I experienced immense frustration. Each blade would stick to my fingers or to each other. These ocean flora truly belong in water not air. But my amazement grew as I persevered; the seemingly delicate connections between each razor-thin blade were powerfully strong and able to withstand immense force, and each blade had the serrated edges that engendered the blades themselves. While many seaweed blades clearly break easily at the ends, these were usually intact and fully shaped when I could unravel them. I truly felt like I was unravelling a secret that few have seen before: the secret of Desmarestia ligulata or acid kelp.
The Beach Book is officially out. There was a nice event at ZincDetails the other night and Beach: A Book of Treasure was on its pedestal amongst the other fun Chronicle books in a month long Pop-up Shop. The books fill the entry before you continue into the wonderland of Marimekko and other design-y and irresistible home objects in the Fillmore Street shop. There are three prints up on the walls including the blue seaglass and all fit well. The anticipation of summer is palpable.
I am looking forward to upcoming events, going to the beach as often as possible and thinking about how art and science dovetail there. Putting talks together is an opportunity to re-visit the imagery and make new connections. Bits and pieces of my thoughts will come up here.
Andrew made cinnamon buns for Mothers Day. They were divine.
After a couple of warmish days the pussy willows were a delicate cloud of white buds inviting closer inspection. Depending on their orientation to the brief moments of sun we have had over the past week, the buds are either in full fuzz or just emerging.
Monday, February 1, 2010
These are some tumbled seamarbles. The collection pic was sent by avid beach wanderers Kim and Dave who are lucky enough to live in Hawaii near the beach. Kim's theory on the marbles is: "The elementary school is on the other side of the highway, then nothing but beach on the beach side. There are a few underground drains that flow into the ocean by the school. So, we think, based on the kind of marbles they are, that they are from way back in the day...kids playing marbles on the playground. I only find them certain times when the sand is all washed away and the rock piles are what's left. This past year, it was only one time that those rocks were exposed."
This is Andrew's favorite. All of these scallops are from the Outer Banks of North Carolina (thank you Sharon Gilchrest O'Neill). The tiny ribbed clam is from Pawley's Island, South Carolina. I talk about sorting and how sorting builds the fundamental skills of science--observing, comparing organizing classifying. But "how we choose which objects to group together is ultimately a creative act, the work of the artist. The beach becomes the locus of art and science to dance together, to intermingle and connect."
This is all hard to think about when the dire news from the school district came out today about the drastic budget cuts heading our way. Superintendent Garcia also wrote an impassioned editorial in our Chronicle which was well spoken. I am working with a great group of Lowell parents working to raise awareness and raise much needed funds to supplement the decimated school budget next year. I had a thought today: Public school is no longer free. It is ridiculously cheap, but our legislatures and state governments are telling us that it is no longer free. We MUST put something into the pot to keep it alive. It might be $20 or $200 or $2,000, but it is not free. This is a sad state of affairs.
The beach is where I regenerate. As a photographer and writer I am committed to the act of looking closely. My most recent book is titled Beach: A Book of Treasure. It follows four others on forms in nature. They are contemplative combinations of science and art. Please find them and visit my website at www.josieiselin.com
