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For living, in climate crisis

A meditative poetry comic about our place in the world
by Madeleine Jubilee Saito / Artist-In-Residence 2022

Four-panel comic. Text: I know you have been wondering what you’re doing here. Images: a hazy sky, hands held open, a moon in a starry sky, a window seen from inside with a single star. Two four-panel comics. First comic text: Here we are, our small world, all together in the great darkness. First comic images: A handful of stars; a view through a dark window; someone sleeping in a bed. Tucked into a blanket, their long dark hair extends across the pillow. Second comic has no text. Second comic image: A moon in a broad starry sky Two four-panel comics. First comic text: Most of the earth is light on the water. First comic images: A selection of images of the sea: The sun hovers over the sea; a dark night over the sea with no stars; a full moon over the sea; a sun sets over the sea. Second comic text: Most of your body is dark, quiet water. Second comic images: A dark brushstroke like flowing water, hands held open, a figure tucked in bed. Two four-panel comics. First comic text: You are a living thing, in the family of living things. The place you belong is here. First comic images: A figure cuddles down deeper in bed. A moon in a starless sky. A budding tree in spring. Second comic has no text. Second comic image: A moon in a starless sky. Two four-panel comics. First comic text: Everything breathes in. Everything breathes out. First comic images: Tree roots reach down into soil. Budding tree branches grow up into the sky. Second comic text: It is very good that you are here. Second comic images: A figure tucked into bed, head visible on the pillow. A budding tree seen through a window. Four-panel comic. Comic text: I know you have been grieving the climate crisis. Comic images: A stormy sky seen through a window. A barren tree in front of a darkening, smoky sky. Two four-panel comics. First comic text: What do we do when the air is full of smoke? And the basement floods? First comic images: A smoky sky, from outside and then as seen through a window; dark stairs down into a basement. Second comic text: So much has been lost. So much has been defiled. Second comic images: Clouds roll in over a home, darkening the sky so that the home is nearly too dark to see. Two four-panel comics. First comic text: The water is full of oil. The sacred places are full of poison. First comic images: Smoke comes in over a barren tree. Smoke fills a room. Second comic has no text. Second comic images: An oil tanker fills the sea with dark oil. Two four-panel comics. First comic text: They say the market needs growth. The market needs extraction. The market needs resources. The market needs blood. First comic images: A sun in a smoky sky. Smoke covers the sun. The last panel is totally black, with drops of ink that look like they could be blood, or oil. Second comic has no words. All four panels are completely dark, with ink or oil pooling at the edges. Two four-panel comics. First comic text: Who designed this system of death? Who profits from oil and gas? First comic images: A moon over the sea, with an oil rig visible in the distance. Oil mixing with water. Second comic text: Who told us that this petroleum world is all there is? Second comic image: A cloudy night sky over the sea begins to clear; a full moon is visible on the horizon; stars come out. Four-panel comic with no text. An expansive starry sky over the sea. A low full moon reflects over the water. Four-panel comic. Text: I know you have been wondering how to keep living amid all the death. Images: A totally dark room. A dimly-lit window, seen from within. A single candle in a large space. Two four-panel comics. First comic text: My love, I promise you, we can escape this system of death. First comic images: A dark sky, then a sky full of stars. A small sprouting plant. Second comic: A vibrant tree with round fruits appears in across all four panels. Two four-panel comics. First comic text: In this valley of dry bones there is still a clear stream. First comic images: A candle in a dark room. Hands held open. A clear stream with light on the water. A window seen from inside with a single star. Second comic text: There are so many solutions.There is enough for everyone. Second comic images: A vibrant fruiting tree. A clear stream with light on the water. Two four-panel comics. First comic text: Can you imagine what it will feel like to have survived? And keep surviving, arm in arm, all together? First comic images: Two dark-haired figures are asleep in bed, tucked under covers, facing each other. A forest with overlapping trees in winter. Second comic has no text. Second-panel image: A night sky with many stars. Two four-panel comics. First comic text: I am preparing for a future that stretches and tears, but trees with roots that knit together beneath the earth survive the biggest storms. First comic images: A table set with mugs of tea and empty chairs. A window looks out onto a stormy sky. Second comic has no text. Second comic images: Tree roots in dark soil, which resembles a starry sky. Two four-panel comics. First comic text: Everything breathes in, everything breathes out. First comic images: A figure tucked in bed. Tree roots reaching down into soil. Tree branches reaching up into the sky. Hands open. Second comic text: It is very good that you are here. Second comic images: A night sky full of stars, with a full moon. An abundant fruiting tree.Artist Reflection

The background of this piece

Healing the climate crisis, and learning to be resilient in its impacts, is the work of our lifetimes.

My proposal for this residency was to create a meditative poem-comic designed for people who are just waking to the reality of the climate crisis: to hold space for mourning and rage, to ground in our humanity, and to help us imagine ourselves as future survivors — not disposable or doomed, but beloved and integral parts of the great work of healing the world and reimagining our systems.

I was incredibly grateful for the container of time this residency provided. Like many artists I know, I’ve always divided my time between full-time work and art on-the-side. It was an incredible gift to have the sustained time, accountability, and community to create this piece.

How the piece grew & changed

This piece was informed by a series of conversations with a loved one who is disabled, and whose experience of the climate crisis is deeply intertwined with life under ableism.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how capitalism reduces human lives to “employable” or “unemployable” (a framework from Marta Russell), and the created world to “resources” or “disposable.” In capitalism, everything is pushed into the gears of profit-making, and every sacred thing (the material world, our social fabric, human life) is ground up along the way.

I’m a Christian, and I identify with a lineage of artists who brought the beauty and moral clarity of Christian ethics and language into work for movements for solidarity and justice. Living in our time of capitalism’s increasing extraction, destruction, and widespread immiseration, it feels important to use my work as a place to repeat sacred truths: Humans are not resources; humans are not a pestilence; no one disposable. Our lives are a sacred, essential part of the ecosystem of the universe. We are made in the image of the creator. And it is good that we are here.

Some visual and ideological influences

Before starting a piece, and as it progresses, I like creating a moodboard to reference to keep myself visually and tonally on-track. This is a screenshot of a few moodboards I used for this piece.

In the medium of poetry comics, I’m always learning from the work of Aidan Koch, Alyssa Berg, and Andrew White. This is the first medium-length comic I’ve drawn in a few years, and I was grateful for the work of Aidan Koch as a model of meditative pacing and movement.

Artist Molly Costello’s images of roots intermingled with stars have been stuck in my head since I first saw them, and definitely informed some of the images in this piece.

The idea of imagining yourself as a survivor came directly from Dr. Britt Wray, in her piece “It is time to step into the role of the ‘prospective survivor’.

The presence of Water in this piece was informed by the ideas and work of my fellow artists-in-residence in the cohort, Giizhigad and Melody Joy Overstreet, who led us in a deeply moving studio workshop on Water.

The phrase “very good” comes from God’s declaration in Genesis 1:31 that all of creation, the whole material world, is very good (NRSV).

A few other ideological influences that were top of mind as I worked on this piece: David Bentley Hart’s essay “What Lies Beyond Capitalism: A Christian Exporation”; unpublished writings by moral theologian Chikara Jubilee Saito, adrienne maree brown’s Emergent Strategy (including her image of trees whose roots link together beneath the earth to survive storms); and my teammate Katharine Wilkinson’s writing on finding your place in climate work.

Find more of Madeleine’s work: Website | Instagram | Tumblr

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