August 8, 2014
Just want to fill you in about the present state of The Wild Place. Work continues there. You may have noticed that I nailed branches to the rail fence in order to discourage graffiti.
Naturalizing it seems to have integrated it more fully with the environment. We continue to discourage knotweed and bittersweet. We continue to plant native trees and wildflowers. Unexpected gifts keep arriving.
One woman has donated 100 tiles and wants to plant a tree in memory of her brother who recently died and is buried nearby.
She says that her niece is still in mourning and can't bring herself to go to the cemetery. She can go to The Wild Place.The entire family goes there to receive the peace of The Wild Place.
A recent visitor who discovered it accidentally while walking his dog brought his wife to see it. "You can feel the peace when you walk in," he said.
Notes of appreciation continue to appear in the book.
The baseball players appreciate it.
The bus drivers appreciate it.
I had no idea of the impact it would have when I started out. I couldn't be more thrilled with the response.I am planning soon to write a letter to the neighbors and tell them about the project.
Some of them already know. I will keep you posted.
Thank you so much for your interest and support.
Sincerely, Diana
June 8, 2014
Since our return from New Orleans, The Wild Place has been my main focus. The new maple tree stands proud and tall, planted by Karen Lambe and Eli Tegu on the cold rainy Earth Day. Since that time I've been continuing to clear and plant. Yesterday Karen shepherded me through the RI Wild Plant Society Annual Sale. Now I have some new perennials to plant today. Flowers arrive from friends as well.
Encouraging messages continue to be left in the message box.
A graduating senior at Brown made beautiful strands of colorful origami cranes. We hung them from trees. They enlivened the space and created a feeling of playfulness. They remained there for two weeks. Then one morning I arrived and they were all gone. A mystery.
Another gift given and then disappearing.
I've cleared the area farther back along the River. Now there is a beautiful view of the gentle curve of the Moshassuck. The knotweed is slowly being brought under control by ground cloths and chips donated by North Main Burial Ground.
I thought the work would go faster. It's slow going. One step at a time.
May 12
This morning I found an enormousTarp useful for smothering knotweed under the bench with a note on it that said "in memory of Michael Francis". I do not know this person. I am thankful for this gift.
May 5
I am back to work at The Wild Place. It is an extremely satisfying experience to be there. I meet passersby who stop to converse and I get to voice my motivation and love for doing this. My companions are a Baltimore oriole and a groundhog.
What we planted last year made it through the winter I am thrilled to say. Contributions of perennials like daisies and lilies of the valley have returned and reproduced!
More touching messages have appeared in the container by the bench. Karen Lambe is stopping by this week to give advice about the next stage. Certainly more wildflowers will be planted. The ongoing conversation with knotweed and bittersweet continues. I hope to dominate. Smothering seems like the best approach.
Don and I sat on the bench while he munched on wild garlic, which grows in abundance there.
Listen to Diana Jackson's The Wild Place on RI Public RadioFrom RIPR: The famed cultural anthropologist Margaret Mead once opined, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." Such sentiments often conjure up images of sweeping social change. But as we hear from Diana Jackson, a small group of committed people can also have a profound impact on the quality of life in our own little corner of the world here in the Ocean State. Diana will be away until the end of May, If you can help keep an eye on the Wild Place in Diana’s absence, please email her directly.
December 3, 2013
Messages written in pencil lie quietly on my studio table, carrying with them the silent presence of their authors. Soon they will return to the jar where they live once the lid is complete.
November 22, 2013
Upon return from San Francisco, I stopped by The Wild Place. It is becoming clear to me that it is a place of peace, beauty, and reflection. Not dramatic and breath taking, but simply being what it is in its modest, gentle way. It is so touching to receive handwritten messages, each in a different style, none the same. It lies quiet now, bare branches of trees against the sky and brown leaves covering the ground.
Thank you
November 17, 2013 from San Fransisco
This week in San Francisco I was walking along Cortland and saw
an Interesting small store selling plants. I went in and saw that there were a
variety of other things inside like seed bombs and other things related to caring for Nature.
There were books, too. I asked the salesperson if she had any
books about peace gardens. I told her my story about The Wild Place and how it
had a feeling of peace and beauty. I told her that I wanted to create more spaces like this and that I was looking for more ideas. "Oh," she said, "It seems to me that you have intuitively created this because you are a spiritual person in touch with Nature. You just need to follow your instincts." I walked out of the store, feeling that I had just received a message from the Universe.
November 13, 2013
While standing in the sun on a chilly day at The Wild Place, I had a fascinating conversation with a humanities professor at RISD.We spoke of many things. How an avenue of trees arching into each other on a long road can resemble a gothic cathedral, how and why nature brings peace, and how Nature best expresses herself. What stays with me is talking about the messages and gifts left at The Wild Place. The messages, mostly about the peace and calm the space brings to visitors, but also gifts as well. A porcelain bead hung from a tree by a red ribbon with a Chinese inscription. A tiny porcelain fairy house left at the bottom of a tree. A picture frame with Friends and Family Friends and Family engraved in it. A painted round stone with cabo verde hand painted on it. We spoke of how all of these things are like offerings, like those seen on altars in cathedrals. And what are offerings about? Respect? Gratitude? Love? When and how does one make a spontaneous offering? A mystery. A miracle. Who knows? But it has to be something tangible, somehow making the feeling real. Is that what Art is about?And then the offerings disappear. They are somewhere else now.
Sometime Early November...
Something makes me want to share this with you. On Wednesday as the sun was going down, I walked from the Farmer's Market on Hope Street and bought 6 red beets from a small stand. I told the grinning farmer that I didn't want a bag. I could just carry them in my hand. I proceeded up Hope Street towards home when I remembered that I needed bars of soap.I went into CVS with the beets. How strange it felt to be carrying vegetables with dirt on them into a huge store with artificial lighting where everything was manufactured and encased in boxes or plastic bottles. The beets just sat there in my hand, unperturbed. I was very proud of them and thankful for their natural beauty and deliciousness.
Yesterday I gathered soil samples (thank you, Ray) from The Wild Place to send to UMass to be analyzed. The entire process was magical.Gathering the dirt from the ground, separating it from its setting, putting it in plastic bags, feeling its heaviness and silence, and taking it into our house. Then I separated out the pebbles, roots, and leaves with a sifter. I watched the dirt falling down into the bowl, light brown and fine. I felt like I was touching gold. It smelled good.But it looked so humble and quiet. Then I realized what incredible power it has.
Have a wonderful day.
-Diana
Just want to fill you in about the present state of The Wild Place. Work continues there. You may have noticed that I nailed branches to the rail fence in order to discourage graffiti.
Naturalizing it seems to have integrated it more fully with the environment. We continue to discourage knotweed and bittersweet. We continue to plant native trees and wildflowers. Unexpected gifts keep arriving.
One woman has donated 100 tiles and wants to plant a tree in memory of her brother who recently died and is buried nearby.
She says that her niece is still in mourning and can't bring herself to go to the cemetery. She can go to The Wild Place.The entire family goes there to receive the peace of The Wild Place.
A recent visitor who discovered it accidentally while walking his dog brought his wife to see it. "You can feel the peace when you walk in," he said.
Notes of appreciation continue to appear in the book.
The baseball players appreciate it.
The bus drivers appreciate it.
I had no idea of the impact it would have when I started out. I couldn't be more thrilled with the response.I am planning soon to write a letter to the neighbors and tell them about the project.
Some of them already know. I will keep you posted.
Thank you so much for your interest and support.
Sincerely, Diana
June 8, 2014
Since our return from New Orleans, The Wild Place has been my main focus. The new maple tree stands proud and tall, planted by Karen Lambe and Eli Tegu on the cold rainy Earth Day. Since that time I've been continuing to clear and plant. Yesterday Karen shepherded me through the RI Wild Plant Society Annual Sale. Now I have some new perennials to plant today. Flowers arrive from friends as well.
Encouraging messages continue to be left in the message box.
A graduating senior at Brown made beautiful strands of colorful origami cranes. We hung them from trees. They enlivened the space and created a feeling of playfulness. They remained there for two weeks. Then one morning I arrived and they were all gone. A mystery.
Another gift given and then disappearing.
I've cleared the area farther back along the River. Now there is a beautiful view of the gentle curve of the Moshassuck. The knotweed is slowly being brought under control by ground cloths and chips donated by North Main Burial Ground.
I thought the work would go faster. It's slow going. One step at a time.
May 12
This morning I found an enormousTarp useful for smothering knotweed under the bench with a note on it that said "in memory of Michael Francis". I do not know this person. I am thankful for this gift.
May 5
I am back to work at The Wild Place. It is an extremely satisfying experience to be there. I meet passersby who stop to converse and I get to voice my motivation and love for doing this. My companions are a Baltimore oriole and a groundhog.
What we planted last year made it through the winter I am thrilled to say. Contributions of perennials like daisies and lilies of the valley have returned and reproduced!
More touching messages have appeared in the container by the bench. Karen Lambe is stopping by this week to give advice about the next stage. Certainly more wildflowers will be planted. The ongoing conversation with knotweed and bittersweet continues. I hope to dominate. Smothering seems like the best approach.
Don and I sat on the bench while he munched on wild garlic, which grows in abundance there.
Listen to Diana Jackson's The Wild Place on RI Public RadioFrom RIPR: The famed cultural anthropologist Margaret Mead once opined, "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed people can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has." Such sentiments often conjure up images of sweeping social change. But as we hear from Diana Jackson, a small group of committed people can also have a profound impact on the quality of life in our own little corner of the world here in the Ocean State. Diana will be away until the end of May, If you can help keep an eye on the Wild Place in Diana’s absence, please email her directly.
December 3, 2013
Messages written in pencil lie quietly on my studio table, carrying with them the silent presence of their authors. Soon they will return to the jar where they live once the lid is complete.
November 22, 2013
Upon return from San Francisco, I stopped by The Wild Place. It is becoming clear to me that it is a place of peace, beauty, and reflection. Not dramatic and breath taking, but simply being what it is in its modest, gentle way. It is so touching to receive handwritten messages, each in a different style, none the same. It lies quiet now, bare branches of trees against the sky and brown leaves covering the ground.
Thank you
November 17, 2013 from San Fransisco
This week in San Francisco I was walking along Cortland and saw
an Interesting small store selling plants. I went in and saw that there were a
variety of other things inside like seed bombs and other things related to caring for Nature.
There were books, too. I asked the salesperson if she had any
books about peace gardens. I told her my story about The Wild Place and how it
had a feeling of peace and beauty. I told her that I wanted to create more spaces like this and that I was looking for more ideas. "Oh," she said, "It seems to me that you have intuitively created this because you are a spiritual person in touch with Nature. You just need to follow your instincts." I walked out of the store, feeling that I had just received a message from the Universe.
November 13, 2013
While standing in the sun on a chilly day at The Wild Place, I had a fascinating conversation with a humanities professor at RISD.We spoke of many things. How an avenue of trees arching into each other on a long road can resemble a gothic cathedral, how and why nature brings peace, and how Nature best expresses herself. What stays with me is talking about the messages and gifts left at The Wild Place. The messages, mostly about the peace and calm the space brings to visitors, but also gifts as well. A porcelain bead hung from a tree by a red ribbon with a Chinese inscription. A tiny porcelain fairy house left at the bottom of a tree. A picture frame with Friends and Family Friends and Family engraved in it. A painted round stone with cabo verde hand painted on it. We spoke of how all of these things are like offerings, like those seen on altars in cathedrals. And what are offerings about? Respect? Gratitude? Love? When and how does one make a spontaneous offering? A mystery. A miracle. Who knows? But it has to be something tangible, somehow making the feeling real. Is that what Art is about?And then the offerings disappear. They are somewhere else now.
Sometime Early November...
Something makes me want to share this with you. On Wednesday as the sun was going down, I walked from the Farmer's Market on Hope Street and bought 6 red beets from a small stand. I told the grinning farmer that I didn't want a bag. I could just carry them in my hand. I proceeded up Hope Street towards home when I remembered that I needed bars of soap.I went into CVS with the beets. How strange it felt to be carrying vegetables with dirt on them into a huge store with artificial lighting where everything was manufactured and encased in boxes or plastic bottles. The beets just sat there in my hand, unperturbed. I was very proud of them and thankful for their natural beauty and deliciousness.
Yesterday I gathered soil samples (thank you, Ray) from The Wild Place to send to UMass to be analyzed. The entire process was magical.Gathering the dirt from the ground, separating it from its setting, putting it in plastic bags, feeling its heaviness and silence, and taking it into our house. Then I separated out the pebbles, roots, and leaves with a sifter. I watched the dirt falling down into the bowl, light brown and fine. I felt like I was touching gold. It smelled good.But it looked so humble and quiet. Then I realized what incredible power it has.
Have a wonderful day.
-Diana