Symbiosis
A collaborative group show with Patricia Sannit for the 2023 Artlink Art D’Core Gala


My work is an exploration of time and growth in varying scales. Like the paradox of the coastline, where the more closely one measures the coast, the longer the measurement becomes; the similarities between the human body, technology, and nature are infinite. In other words: we are just fast trees. As I expand the time scale I want to reference in my work, I learn that my experiences are physically present in my body just as a century-old earthquake is present in a landscape, a drought in a tree, a volcanic eruption in a rock.

The relationship between artists and nature is an interesting one. We are all inspired by the natural world, whether that looks like culture, a moment in history, or trees and mountains. However, in our efforts to honor nature, we end up making objects that use material resources and are still subject to time and decay. We will never replicate nature. This show is my report on what reading and thinking about trees, geology, and the human body, mind, and culture has taught me about my art.

To understand the pieces I made for this show, the viewer must look from very close up and far away. As the viewer moves around the work, colors will change. Stories of creation will develop.





Turning and turning in the widening gyre   The falcon cannot hear the falconer;Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere   The ceremony of innocence is drownedThe best lack all conviction, while the worst   Are full of passionate intensity.Surely some revelation is at handSurely the Second Coming is at hand.   The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out   When a vast image out of Spiritus MundTroubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert   A shape with lion body and the head of a man,   A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it   Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know   That twenty centuries of stony sleep    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,   Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

@eeemolee / emilygracehall97@gmail.com