Thursday, August 22, 2019

jungle living




In January through February of 2009, I had the honor of living in the Amazonian rainforest for three weeks. I wanted to repost this blog entry as a reminder of what is being lost right now as the forest is being burned down. My heart is breaking.

02.19.09 For the past two weeks I have been living at a science research station located in the middle of a nature preserve deep in the rain forest. The jungle is rich with inspiration for my ceramics, from the voluptuous trees to the exotic insects and flowers. This is the only place in the Amazon where our little camp and the sister camp a few miles away are the only human dwellings as far as the eye can see. We are the intruders here, nature is quick to disassemble anything we erect. It is truly a humbling experience. I can't even bring myself to squash a cockroach, knowing that I am in his house.

The Inselberg and Pararé camps are well stocked with food and alcohol. A nightly ritual is to enjoy a small cocktail: rum, sugar, and lemon right off the tree. Everyone takes turns cooking dinner. Meals have been buttery, and yummy.



Sleeping in an open carbet (four posts and a plastic roof, no walls) in the jungle is quite the experience: it is never quiet, filled with frog, cricket, bird and cicada calls. The howler monkeys are probably the most startling. They sound like a soundtrack to a haunted house, a howling growling spooky wind. Last night their call sounded so close, as if they were perched on a tree above our carbet. They were incredibly loud. This afternoon they hung out in the trees eating leaves very near camp. The howlers' gentle ways are in stark contrast to their ferocious call.




Surrounded by scientists from all over the world gathering specimens for their Masters degrees and PhDs, the conversations are spectacular. I have learned so much about the insect and mammal world. I will spend months digesting this trip, and exploring it through my ceramic work.