jula eberth
This work wants to cultivate care for soiled, oiled humannatures. They are the natures I see-smell-hear-feel-taste every day: thrash-riddled patches of grass, overgrown industrial sites, pigeons constructing nests with plastic wire. In natures undeniably shaped unearthed weirded by human touch there is humannature storytelling, evidence of our mutual entanglements, dependencies, cares. By focusing on these human-nature intersections that have been disregarded within our notions of what ‘conservable nature’ looks like, i do not care for your scenic view offers fragmented images of a care for nature that extends towards bodies, landscapes, matters saturated and soiled by human material and stories.
—“To ami oké bollam,” fuhr er fort. Ich sagte zu Tipu: “Ich würde dich nie zurück lassen.” Und er sagte: “Doch, du musst. Wenn wir getrennt werden, musst du allein weitergehen und darauf vertrauen, das wir uns wiederfinden.” Es war fast, als hätte er gewusst, was passieren würde.—Die Inseln, S. 307
—‘To ami oké bollam’, he continued, I said to Tipu: ‘I would never leave you and go.’ And he said: ‘No, you must. If we‘re parted you must go on by yourself and you must have faith that we‘ll find each other again.’ It was almost as if Tipu knew what was going to happen.—Gun Island, p. 260