Circle of Response

is an evolving land installation connecting residents of Atlanta to a culturally and ecologically rich landscape in the Browns Mill Park neighborhood. The Circle of Response began in May 2022 as a land investigation within a defined circle based on Rickles bodily dimensions. The land where the Circle of Response sits represents many of the ecological and cultural stressors that Atlanta community members face today in response to rapid development. It is surrounded by a multitude of newly constructed and under construction developments, and sits north of a monoculture of turfgrass dominating the land of a historic golf course. Within the plot of land the Circle of Response sits, long-term tenants work collectively to run an urban farm, and an artist-run gallery on land they do not legally own. Their efforts to produce for community while caring for the land constitutes a case study for living in a world that feels constantly more and more inaccessible. The site’s unique location and activity make its existence of incredible ecological and cultural value to the area while simultaneously being and at risk of disappearing.

Special thank you to Hi-Lo, Danielle, William, Anna, and Collin who all supported this project with their knowledge and/or extension cords.

may 6, 2022

exercise 1: define circle of response

CIRCLE OF RESPONSE
this spring / summer i will be doing a open ended land investigation @hilopress

circle of response, which is a plot of land defined by a diameter equaling my height, will change throughout the summer. its changes will align with @hilopress events.

swipe for process imagery below >

exercise 2: careful acts

sounds: golfers talking, airplane, tree limbs in wind

feeling: windy breeze, itchy burn sensation on leg from fire ants, mosquitos, wet ground

plants: porcelain berry, pink sorrel, privet, winter creeper euonymus, ground ivy

may 15, 2022

exercise 3: digging a hole

I had a conversation with Isia yesterday that left me feeling a heavier weight about the project. Isia and Chris started a Crack in the Sidewalk Farmlet in 2008. She let me know she supports my project, but initially felt upset about my investigation. This way she felt, initial distrust, resonated with me. That discomfort, the one felt when the places to which we have a deep attachment to change beyond our control, is exactly what drives my work. Why are we attached to place? When does it become a part of our identity? How do we share a place? What is the line of trust? 

So what was I doing there? My personal experiment being the destructive force. Getting to know the ground with a permeable aim. I felt like the developer clear-cutting the land. Why was I interested in creating a void? was i being careful as i had set out to be?

I felt it was important to start here, in the soil for reasons i cannot explain. I wanted to put my hands in the dirt. I wanted to see its texture and shades of brown. I wanted to know what would happen if I dug. I wanted to feel tired from the ground's resistance to my shovel. 

In retrospect I think it was more important for me to feel the guilt and to sit with it, acting out the process of landscape change at the human hand. While digging I let the bugs bite me. I felt like I should be punished and offer myself in some way for disturbing the home of the fire ants. Electric shocks were felt up my legs. I sweat through my clothes. I dug nearly 6 inches into the ground, around tree roots, and past the topsoil until the soil became denser. I dug until it became clear to me that I did not have a plan beyond touching the ground, seeing it, and hopefully one day giving back to it. After I realized this I poured the soil, which I had been collecting in my wheelbarrow, back into the bounds of the Circle of Response. 

Recently after an artist talk where I shared my hesitations about my land practices, a woman came up to me and told me that guilt can be good. By guilt can be good she gave me permission to explore the guilt i feel surrounding my imperfect actions. while i do not believe she meant feeling guilt erases the action, i do believe she implied that there is value in following the guilt to see where it goes.

sky above the circle of response

Feeling and accepting guilt (talks with Isia and Chris)

There is no life without death

Death of one living thing

Gives life to another

Tomatoes, radishes, lettuces

Guilt comes from a lack of understanding

A lack of connection

Someone has to get their hands dirty,

Make the tough calls

Kill the struggling snake

Connection to land is not about preservationIts about responding to what

The land presents

Treat the land how you’d like to be treated

When it gives you conflict

Act with care

To be a steward of the land

Is to educate yourself

To observe the land’s power and to accept

The lack of your own in comparison

May 21, 2022

exercise 4: your feet are now in the soil of this site

visitors were asked to take off their shoes, walk to the circle of response, and place their feet in the soil. they were then asked to consider their connection to this land and their surroundings. these experiences were captured through phone cameras and written reflections texted from the individual participants to an anonymous phone number. these messages are captured below.

May 22, 2022

footprints on the fabric the next morning

september 22, 2022

exercise 6: moving water

during the autumn equinox, the circle of response held A ceramic fountain circulating rainwater collected over months within the circle of response. the fountain represents the movement of water throughout the landscape, no matter the landform or surface.

Fountains often celebrate “prominent” public spaces selected by a few for the public. By placing a fountain at this site, the ability to decide what space is “prominent” within a community becomes accessible, it’s developing value determined and celebrated by those who participate in it. This place is fountain-worthy.Water is always in a state of movement. Uninterrupted much of the fountain’s rainwater would slowly make its way through the Brown’s Mill Golf Course to the South River, eventually emptying out into the Atlantic along Georgia’s coast.

photo credit: mo costello

while at the fountain, participants were asked to: Take a seat, Close your eyes, Feel the water, and Move within the water whose fate is a constant state of movement. in addition, they were invited to Archive their interactions by texting a picture of themself in the water with some reflective words about their experience to the project number.