Who does your labor?

As we await the goods from overseas that will fill our landfills, we give little thought to the ships that carried the goods and the fact that they will also become obsolete and require disposal. Even the vast cruise ships that carried us on such sublime escapes at some point face the breaker's ball and torch. We may feel pride in the things we acquire, but is there also a sense of shame when we become aware of the costs?

I am reminded of an artist friend who was moving from Eureka Springs to Santa Fe. He had lived in the dark for months as he worked on a sculptural installation by flashlight. It was an artistic conceptual investigation of dark things, like viruses and disease. I saw him one day as he was preparing to leave, and I asked him what would happen with his work. "That's taken care of," he said. "I composted it. It was all biodegradable."

What if all the important objects in our lives came from the raw materials and labor in our own communities? When we saw something made of wood, we would know the tree that supplied the lumber. When we saw an object, we would identify it with its maker? We would have a sense of admiration for each other, and a sense of responsibility in the ways we engaged with nature. So now, how do we recreate a world in which everything matters? It can start in our own hands.

I am having fun with my new boxes. The one shown below has a basswood lid. It's texture is carved with a rotary chisel and it has been colored with leather dye.