The photographs of lost-and-found tools and maintenance-in-progress illuminate the details in the gardener's struggle to "cultivate chaos." Suburban gardens and greenhouses are places of reckoning where opposites meet. Life and death, public and private, static and dynamic, wild and domestic, order and chaos all come together and are mediated at the gardener's hands.
We water our plants hoping they will thrive and clip them back when they do in order to maintain a delicate equilibrium. This balanced state is temporary at best, for the gardener's work is never completely finished. In our efforts to nurture and cultivate, we race against time, space and against the plants themselves.
Just when we think it's time to impose some order on the chaos of nature, we are presented with a natural order stronger than our own. Evidence of this conflict surfaces in vignettes that celebrate the beauty in the space between order and chaos.
The photographs of lost-and-found tools and maintenance-in-progress illuminate the details in the gardener's struggle to "cultivate chaos." Suburban gardens and greenhouses are places of reckoning where opposites meet. Life and death, public and private, static and dynamic, wild and domestic, order and chaos all come together and are mediated at the gardener's hands.
We water our plants hoping they will thrive and clip them back when they do in order to maintain a delicate equilibrium. This balanced state is temporary at best, for the gardener's work is never completely finished. In our efforts to nurture and cultivate, we race against time, space and against the plants themselves.
Just when we think it's time to impose some order on the chaos of nature, we are presented with a natural order stronger than our own. Evidence of this conflict surfaces in vignettes that celebrate the beauty in the space between order and chaos.
