These are the deep roots of the prairie plants that grew here long before this building, this war, this disease. Their miles of stomach and brain nerve cells push down into dark histories. Together we are these beings whose flowers call to the bees. That is our art. The gift we give to each other.
But meet me here. Underground, where ancient time and present moment mingle, where we are all raw and stringy at the cause of our inflorescence and beauty.
Meet me here, at these points where we absorb and push into the unknown, through the mycelium of literature and music and the food of play and memory. Above ground things are urgent, and to be of help, we must first do this work.
*Original illustration by Heidi Natura of the Conservation Research Institute
