Into The (really) Unknown
Trembling Aspen | Series 04_My Life Here | Issue_19
Pol, is an artist-in-residence here in Koganecho. He is telling me how he wishes his friends back Belgium knew about the parts of his life that don’t seem like they belong in a movie. Sometimes it does. Sometimes his life does feel like it belongs in a movie and he’s in the midst of it in wonder. And sometimes his life is long walks alone, struggling with what to produce, and how to produce it, before the residency is over. Not having an answer. Then dealing with everyday stuff that needs to be dealt with back home. Taking some pictures. Drawing some drawings, none of it feeling like enough. Then the day is done and you’re exhausted with nothing movie worthy having happened. His words are honest and raw. Even the statements are questions. Explorations. Finding the way, out loud, together. It’s just the two of us in KocoGarden. We had plans to discuss a possible exhibition, hosted in KocoGarden. I wasn’t exactly sure what we’d talk about. It became the conversation we both needed.
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Milo, another artist-in-residence, is telling me about how he is wrestling with what to do about a sudden change to exhibition plans. He adjusts his scarf—the heater hasn’t caught up to the November cold yet—as he speaks about his ritual acceptance into an adopted village back home, the considered depth of his words belying his young age. We talk about complexity and non-linear dynamics and following one’s heart with conviction despite that not being an easy nor clearly defined process. It’s just the two of us in KocoGarden. We had planned to discuss a collaboration in KocoGarden. I wasn’t exactly sure what we’d talk about. It became the conversation we both needed.
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Lilian, a Keio student, is telling me about how she is trying to connect her love of philosophy and writing with artistic practice, but it’s difficult because she’d rather just write about philosophy. She jots down a note in impossibly small handwriting in her note book and then takes a sip of tea. We talk about Bruno Latour, constraints and affordances, Joseph Beuys, social sculpture and society as a work of art. We had plans to discuss her research, at the same time I wasn’t exactly sure what we’d talk about. It became the conversation we both needed.
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Earlier in the week, at an opening for the Museum of Gifted Art, I was introduced as 講師じゃないけど、講師みたい (not a professor, but like a professor). It was correct. It was endearing. A part of me lifted an internal eyebrow, wanting to know more. “But what does it mean?”
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Sorry, dear part of myself asking what it means, I don’t know. I know I’m where I need to be, doing what I need to be doing, in service to the world. I don’t know what that’s going to look like one day to the next.
I am, to a greater and greater extent, standing in front of that-which-cannot-be-known. Less and less of my life is responding in a repeatable way to what I already know, which is at times—I gotta say—uncomfortable. As I do so, I am learning to transmogrify a sense of anxiousness and fear into a sense of adventure and expectation. It’s happening, slowly and steadily. The transmogrification, I mean. The baseline anxiousness is lower and lower and the baseline expectation is higher and higher, with (sometimes wild) fluctuations throughout the day.
I am less and less insisting on answers. More and more trying to live the questions.
I am sharing this here because, well, I’m re-inviting you into this difficult-to-name journey. A journey to which you have always been present, whether you’ve known it or not. You, this audience of mostly-loved-ones and people-who-know-me-well to whom I write. In the absence of labels, templates, or conventional shorthand, all I can do is tell you a few stories, give you a feel for how things are. (Which is, duh, maybe the whole point of this thing?) Here you go, this is the kind of thing you’ve been supporting.
Sometimes the things that happen (as above) are small and quiet. I don’t take photos. These gentle happenings are in danger of slipping by unnoticed. You, dear reader, may never hear about them. I notice them, all of them. They feel important, individually and cumulatively. I’m not always willing to pull myself out of doing what I’m doing in order to document what I’m doing, especially when what I’m doing is simply being present. “Hey, look faithful readers, I’m being present!” [selfie flash].
That said, what I am doing is taking more coherent shape. It’s still a wildly divergent constantly moving mix of activity, but I’m starting to see the patterns. I look forward to sharing the patterns with you.
All that to say, “Hey, would you like to keep supporting my work?” The work seems important, I want to keep doing it. It’s taking more coherent shape, as mentioned. Actually it’s getting rather exciting. I think you’ll enjoy the ride. Independent art-making; solarpunk writing; urban design studio start-up-ing; bioregional regeneration catalyzing; ad hoc coaching, mentoring, professor-ing; free-form following of Source-ing; coming home to Self-ing.
The single best way to support me and my work is to become a Mycelium Council Member. The next best way is to become a KocoGarden Member. (Yes! A new membership option!)
Mycelium Council Membership $10CAD/mo
KocoGarden Membership $2CAD/mo
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Recent Goings-on
Research Trip to Yugawara
Research Trip to Zoshigaya
Hey, I’m Steve, an artist-in-residence in Yokohama, Japan. I make art that helps people imagine a hopeful future. I explore themes of home, identity, belonging and how to live your life like a work of art. I write about it all in this very newsletter, Trembling Aspen.
If you would like to support me, my residency, this newsletter, and my work, please consider becoming a member.
My work
KocoGarden My studio has become an ongoing community engaged art project. KocoGarden is a conversation garden (会話の庭) in which we use the invisible materials of conversation and encounter to create social sculpture. Social sculpture expands the definition of art to include all of society as a work of art. Everyone has the capacity and right to creatively contribute to an equitable, and ecologically sustainable society.
Emergent_Lab. I am exploring art, design and community action for urban transformation as I and my collegues travel and research how neighbourhoods, towns and regions are responding to post-growth realities Japan. What works and why? How might we create the conditions for more of what works? We're looking for patterns and connecting the dots, as we help develop and promote a distinctly Japanese inflection of bioregional urban design (It's going to save the world).
Solarpunk Playground Art that helps people imagine a hopeful future. Operating out of KocoGarden, I am creating a portfolio of intimate art installations (in Koganecho, the neighbourhood in which I live) the purpose of which is catalyzing the ecological, social and economic regeneration of the Ooka River watershed (the bioregion in which I live). At the same time, I am writing solarpunk fiction about a hopeful future set in Koganecho 2050. KocoGarden, the art installations and the urban design work, are all research for the solarpunk writing. I am living the hopeful future I am writing about.