Hello all,
As far as updates go, I will be vending at another pop-up event at City Space in Easthampton, MA on February 8th. The pop-up is from 5-8pm and is part of Easthampton’s arts walk event. Find the full details and directions here.
I also excitedly have my first solo show coming up in March at the River Valley Co-op in Northampton, MA! The show will be up from March 1st to 31st. I’ll share more details in future newsletters :)
I got back this week from visiting friends around the PNW. I narrowly missed the ice storm in Portland, OR but felt the chill of Olympia’s cold snap. I was glad to revisit my college town and chat with friends after moving away a year and a half ago. While the gorgeous moss-y-ness of the temperate rainforests will continue to astound me, it was affirming to recognize that I stood by my choice to move back to Massachusetts.
Even as I stepped out of the airport into a frosty Boston, pale and laden with road salt, I felt content that the community and land I had been growing my relationships with over in Western Massachusetts were fitting for this moment in my life. I often detested New England winters growing up (except when there was fresh snow of course). Now I welcome winter more and more. The way it snows and then rains and then snows, bending between ice and slush and mud. Eastern white pines framing marshes with bent cattail fronds, leading into a pond where ducks and geese still swim in below freezing winds.
I got to crying earlier this afternoon thinking about the possibility of a world without snow, and then a world without spring/summer, and then I went on a walk as slush fell from a sky of dewy dusk, trying not to slip on ice as I thanked god/magic/universe/creator for all the seasons.
Yesterday, I started compiling a list of plants that are native to the Western MA area for an upcoming project series. While there are likely plenty of resources out there already with this information, I enjoyed flipping through my few ID books— a relatively mindless task that reminded me of the wonder of combinations nature imagines, along with just how much I adore plants. I want to know my earthly neighbors—all their skills, preferences, and personalities. The world is always moving in rhythms, even in winter when I can not see them as easily.
I began a quilt this week that includes a patch from the Far Woods which says “I pledge allegiance to the land”, a phrase that keeps rolling around in me. My first and foremost allegiance is to the land, to Earth. I keep thinking about Gaza, about Palestine. How the bombs not only destroy buildings and take people’s lives, but the bombs burn the land, burn the trees, take the lives of countless animals, pollute the waters. I keep thinking about the extensiveness with which Palestinians love their land, how they steward their parts of the Earth, and would do anything to protect and remain in their homeland. The olive trees whose age spans generations; the pomegranates and herbs. I listen to their stories and hear the Palestinians immeasurable love for their homeland.
I am often reminded of all the shameful corporations and governments that prioritize profit, power, and control over the well-being of people and the Earth. How could someone harm the Earth, when the health of everyone and everything is so intricately linked? The atrocities are countless, seemingly endless, and yet my desire is to remain steadfast in my hope for better. To hold these institutions accountable, because their actions in harming people and the Earth are unacceptable.
I saw a post in the past day or two that I have since lost, that said something along the lines of: “I will teach my children to stand with the trees, and to stand with the people who stand with the trees.”
I stand with the people of Palestine for an immediate and permanent ceasefire now, and for a free Palestine. The genocide that Israel is committing against the Palestinians is inexcusable. Everyone deserves a home they feel safe in, and land that they feel they belong to— but forcibly removing peoples to obtain that land is very much not the way to do that, and will never be the means to create a truly safe home.
On the ground coverage of Gaza:
Plestia Alaqad (evacuated Gaza)
Motaz Azaiza (evacuated gaza)
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Palestinian educators, journalists, organizations, creators, +more:
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Non-palestinian educators, organizations, creators, +more:
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A portion of my hope that I offer now, is to continue to deepen my relationship with the lands I currently reside on— in the most respectful ways I know how and might learn— to continue to share what I care about, and to live in my values instead of through my wounds.
Please show your care, the world wants to share in your expression of heart.
Sincerely,
Elayna Sturm
they/them