Maps for Grief explores the hyper-connected existence, filled with individuals who share common intents, ideals and feelings, but tend to live their sentiments in isolation. Its compositions oppose areas of fluid movement and immobility, revealing the structure of the piece itself: two interacting force fields that dictate the direction, as well as the strength – or absence – of movement.

On the keyboard: Press A to have the lines gently animate. Use the 1/2/3 keys to inspect the fields that make up each iteration.

Maps for grief

What do you see when you close your eyes and your retinas still burn from computer screen light?

I Saw It in a Dream

Letters to My Future Self is a series looking at communication through time. There is so much I want to tell my future self that words can't express: from the fear and anger I've felt in lockdown isolation to the joy in finding new friends and community. Each piece in this series becomes a small part of a much bigger story -- letters sent into the future expressing our collective hopes, fears, sadness, and love. A moment in time captured in perpetuity on the blockchain for future generations to find and reflect on. 25% of proceeds will support future artists through art education grants via Donors Choose.

Letters to My Future Self

Center pivot irrigation is a mainstay of the American farm. Like giant inkjet printers, they have painted verdant circles onto landscapes since the 1950s. The artists of this piece grew up in America’s breadbasket near the birthplace of the center pivot, surrounded by the nostalgia of the Family Farm. These were years of innocence – free from concerns of water shortages, chemical leaching, and economic controversy. The tension between childhood times and today’s environmental reality is a canvas for re-envisioning center pivots: they are fundamentally giant drawing machines. What happens when water is rationed? …when they are free to draw? …when they behave unexpectedly? Your token serves as the instructions for these machines—instructions that either constrain or liberate the machine to paint fantastical scenes.

Watch the project teaser video, learn more about the rationale, and see example mints at https://centerpivot.art/

Additional controls interact with each other and have varying impacts during different periods of the animation. Experiment to create and save a new variation of your mint!
'Arrow up' increases evaporation
'Arrow down' decreases evaporation
'Arrow right' increases overspray
'Arrow left' decreases overspray
'.' begins sunset; neon colors emerge depending on when initiated
'/' shows pivot mechanisms only
's' saves screenshot

Center Pivot

Heavenly Bodies is built out of love for the skies and gratitude to the land. The land has always been home to us, steady ground underneath our feet lending itself to finding roots, family, and community. Our homes are as varied as the lands around us, but the common thread of land runs between us, the base need for being grounded. It connects us to each other, and to ourselves. The ground, in its stability, also supports the potential for more: the absence of limits, the open expanse of the possible. The ground gives us a home from which to reach, to strive, to learn to become more than we are. The sky invites us into a future that stands upon the solid shoulders of the past, giving us the tools we need to navigate our way into the unknown. To be human is to love both these things: the steady known, and the uncertain unknown. As we find our footing, the land will always welcome us home, and the sky will always beckon us beyond: to reach, to dare, to go further.

Maps for grief #476
Louis-André Labadie

features

Maps for grief #476.css-1wclmit{display:none;}@media (min-width: 768px){.css-1wclmit{display:inline;}} • .css-ymsk1t{white-space:nowrap;font-weight:400;}Louis-André Labadie

features

Maps for grief #476
Louis-André Labadie