Portal Turpentine Festival, Portal GA
The environment of rural south Georgia is new to me, but not wholly foreign. There is a comfort I feel in such places, though my initial reaction is that of intimidation due to being raised in urban areas. With “Nest” I’m exploring the materials of this new environment while also exploring the history of these materials.
As the house next door to mine was gutted, more and more of the wood found its way onto my porch. As a new member to the community of Swainsboro, there is history here that I must learn, history that is happily quite accessible. A woman I had never met spoke to me at a restaurant, hearing that I was new in town and knowing where I lived. Your house was my grandparents’ house, the woman in her fifties explained. As a child, she slept there, hearing pecans fall on the roof so loudly, making her believe the house was haunted. I share that experience with her, as this autumn passed full of nights jarred out of sleep by a tree shedding its annual burden. It is both a memory and a piece of knowledge to be valued, protected, nested away.