they were here first

In the western tradition, humans build structures on top of and surrounding the homes of previously existing wildlife, overwhelming and often times ultimately destroying their habitat. Almost mockingly we wipe out groves of trees to build sky scrapers and department stores, and then proceed to plant seedlings along city sidewalks, enveloped in metal grating and chicken wire, organized in a perfect “aesthetic” grid. In the center of the city (a manufactured forest of concrete and steel) these trees within such a fabricated and precise existence seem alien and awkward, overpowered by the surrounding marks of humans, struggling to live in the claustrophobic territory once freely occupied by forestlands.

Rust etching away at a garbage can on the beach … cracks in a sidewalk housing an ant colony … paint stripped away from the side of a building by wind and rain … mossy rooftops …

All around us are subtle reminders of the forces in motion before humans dominated the landscape, echoes of the native ecosystems and physical processes. They move slowly and silently, creeping during the night, while we are surfing the internet, watching television. Like vines engulfing a building, their cause is a powerful unrelenting struggle against the man-made structures that have encroached upon their domain.




nikon fm 10
iso 200
print from film