Solarpunk Auntie

@solarpunk-auntie

Artist, hydrologist, river-wader-inner. #solarpunk #atheopagan

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Solarpunk Auntie@solarpunk-auntie· 26d

I have these elbow guards. I got them to wear in the hopes I can avoid some nerve damage and future pressure palsies, but I don't wear them much, because they look Way Too Sporty. Is there a way to, IDK, reupholster them? Make them more subdued? Does anyone have suggestions?

A pair of elbow guards (for mtn biking or something, idk) that are black, white, and yellow.

Solarpunk Auntie@solarpunk-auntie· 27d

C'mon folks, let's not be sloths about giving support in a timely fashion!

A sloth from a diorama at Kartchner Caverns State Park.

Solarpunk Auntie@solarpunk-auntie· 27d

Canyonlands I and II. A geographic allegory about isolation. Canyonlands National Park has three sections separated by steep, dramatic canyons and water. Trying to visit all of them in one trip is very challenging by land (but trivially easy if you travel by water).

Painting of an abstracted landscape with a mix of top-down and ground level perspective. There is a (top-down perspective) river bisecting the scene. The path & shape of the river is based on the Green River upstream of its confluence with the Grand River in the heart of Canyonlands National Park. In the middle, there is a figure sitting by the river, covering her face with her arm in way that suggests grief. Colors are mostly pinkish and bluish with bright white highlights that are glossier than the background.

Solarpunk Auntie@solarpunk-auntie· 28d

‘San Juan de las Boquillas y Nogales’ The name of a parcel of land along the San Pedro River that was granted to a wealthy family by the Mexican government in the 1830s. It became part of the U.S. with the Gadsden Purchase in 1853. The name means ‘St. John of the little mouths and walnuts’.

The central figure is my own eclectic imagining of John the Baptist — an androgynous man showing strength through vulnerability and a deep connection to his environment. The piece is more than a painting — it includes pieces of paper maps, foil, scraps of print proofs, and plastic from a shopping bag I fished out of the Yamuna River in northern India (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yamuna), which is a river of deep non-Christian spiritual significance. These are sewn and glued onto the main canvas panel, which is hung like a tapestry rather than stretched. Their are repeated echoes throughout — a Black Phoebe is mirrored by its own pink plastic silhouette in the trees, the large version of John the Baptist is echoed by a more crude drawing of him on a foil panel with his head detached, and the foil reappears as a halo and water-surface like reflections within the landscape.

Solarpunk Auntie@solarpunk-auntie· May 15

The evidence:

Solarpunk Auntie@solarpunk-auntie· Apr 3

#NationalPoetryMonth #NaPoWriMo April 2

Inner Child

She comes into being over
and over; usually she
gets real frustrated at the point
of learning how to write.
I can’t imagine a child
inside of me that doesn’t
hook her hand and scowl
at the smudges under her left
hand, all janked up.
She can make copies of her
self, like Calvin, and loves
to figure out a way
to invent a version of us
that humbly, obediently
does the work without complaining,
but if there were a way
I would have found it first and long ago.
I keep losing her.
She doesn’t know about
bombs, because I never told her
how we used to run drills
crouched in the hall, head covered by hands
so the broken glass cuts them first.
She cannot hold that knowing.
She floats apart each time I try.

Solarpunk Auntie@solarpunk-auntie· Apr 1

#NaPoWriMo #NationalPoetryMonth April 1

Tinnitus

We rolled in like a dust storm
that refused to move on,
instead gaining agitated energy
in a land that used to be quiet.
Or so I hear.

Another siren. Another email
telling me to visit my neighborhood
social media if I want to
unsubscribe, in which I learn
there is a Man
in a Car
looking Suspicious
like he might be Homeless,
and that’s news in the way
that homes standing empty
in an abandoned
wildcat development isn’t.

I used to get as far away from the noise
as I could. Walk into the hills
until traffic fades away.
No one in cars, everyone suspicious
because there isn’t a proper way
to conduct oneself.
Now my brain makes its own sounds,
and I have to strain through them
to hear what quiet is like.

There are quieter times,
better frequencies,
moments when one type of noise
cancels another in surprising
lulls,

but if you stop to enjoy them
for too long, the neighbors
will talk, and some of that
will echo in your ears forever.

Solarpunk Auntie@solarpunk-auntie· Feb 27

Post a pic you took, no context, to bring some zen to the feed.

Photo of sunset in the BC channel islands, from a kayak. The front of the kayak and paddle tip are visible. The water is calm, with a few ripples.

Solarpunk Auntie@solarpunk-auntie· Feb 20

I use this bone to metaphorically store labor, love, and attention. I update it during Sabbaths, and also other times that feel right. My last update was drawing a sloth near the top. We visited Kartchner Caverns on the weekend nearest Imbolc, and learned about a sloth skeleton found there