How the Light Gets Out

HOW THE LIGHT GETS OUT

A Story of Curiosity, Creativity, and Consciousness

from Extending Ecology, an Oika Project

[for more on the project, visit here]

Introduction

A Long Term Ecological Research site in New Hampshire, USA, Hubbard Brook Experimental Forest rose to prominence in 1963 with the discovery of acid rain. From there, evidence led to the 1970 Clean Air Act, ameliorating the threat of acid rain globally. Thus, Hubbard Brook solidified its reputation as a forest where research leads to evidence, evidence to awareness, and awareness to planetary action. 

This reputation made Hubbard Brook Experimental Forest an ideal site for collaborative research with a scientist, ecologist Dr. Rich Blundell, and an artist, Rita Leduc (myself). In 2021, the three of us (ecologist, artist, forest) joined forces via our Oika project, Extending Ecology: a shared experience of scientific and creative engagement, absorbing and extending nature’s healing, ecological dynamics through us and into culture.

Through Extending Ecology, we have extended this legacy of research, evidence, awareness, and action into the cultural domain via visual art, media, writing, workshops, talks, publications, exhibitions, projects, and relationships. “How the Light Gets Out” is a subset of this work.

The Gorge

In the valley of Hubbard Brook Experimental Forest runs its namesake brook. In that brook, about a mile upstream from the forest boundary, is a gorge. In 2022, light caught by this gorge piqued Rich’s curiosity. Before long, he and I found ourselves at the foot of a magnetic pool of light.

The gorge became a required stop during seasonal baseline checks. To stand there feeling the concentrated glow is to study how the gorge attracts and holds the light. To simply be present is to fill up with the very same light emotionally, cognitively and phenomenologically.

Three Questions

“How the Light Gets Out” is a series of investigations into—and manifestations of—how the light in the gorge sparkles, spreads, and shares itself into the forest, through myself and the work, and into the world. Collages made with visual data collected in the forest use composition, form, texture, color, and gesture to research the following three questions:

“What is it to be fully saturated?”

“What are shadows?”

“Why does light wane?”

Creative Conversation

In the studio, I allowed the light as well as these questions to flow in, out, and around my consciousness. As I did, insights danced around, guiding the full continuum of my intuition, from artistic decisions to being-in-the-world. Below I offer some attempts to fit these insights, imperfectly, into words:

Saturation: Sometimes, I feel fully saturated. When I do, I can’t help but embrace the moment; to be saturated is to BE. For this reason, the saturation collages (first row) were the hardest compositionally. Since saturation is all ALL, there was nothing to contrast. The answer? To release and engage. Afterwards comes the subsequent gift and responsibility to share what has been received. But while in it, directives such as these do not exist. While in it, nothing but wholehearted participation matters.

Shadows: Sometimes, my attention is grabbed by the cool “duality” of shadows. There can be play here too, and pattern, but also tension. These compositions (second row) came most naturally. It would have been easy to let contrast work its graphic magic, but that would trap me in an artificial, two-dimensional binary. To question the integrity of an edge, to blend it into the “other:” these are the moves that reward shadow work. Trust and vulnerability reveals magnificent complexity. Spend time with it and a seemingly static division becomes a dynamic process, systematically highlighting parts of a whole.

Waning: And sometimes, I transition into the wane. With my feet in familiarity, the ground shifts toward unknowing. An angular dichotomy between realism and abstraction took me by surprise in these compositions (third row). Focal points sharpened, a burst of clarity before the liminal light gently washed over. In these moments, I expand my shadow scales and surrender to my own participation within the whole. I am guided into rest and reconfiguration: to whom do I pass my light? To where will the light call me next? We take turns as we turn.

Getting the Light Out

As they move from visual realization to cultural participation, the collages embody their research, thriving in the spotlight of activated exhibitions (saturation), counterbalancing neighboring contemplations (shadow), and contributing as part of collective conversations (waning). From Hubbard Brook to England’s Grizedale Forest to Georgetown, Connecticut, the collages are emissaries of the forest, “letting the light out.”

Traveling this work around the world shines light on the boundless nature of ecological insight. Like the discovery of acid rain, the presence and impact of creative, ecological wisdom is not sequestered to Hubbard Brook Experimental Forest. Natural intelligence—inclusive of light—is everywhere, and reconnecting with it provides essential guidance for navigating this unprecedented moment. Through visuals, contemplation, and conversation, “How the Light Gets Out” encourages others, wherever they are in this era of metacrisis, to learn from, become, and exude the light.