Installation April 17 2026
Deshkan Ziibiing formerly known as the Thames River in London Ontario
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It was cyclical. She was a dandelion seed being tossed to the wind, occasionally touching down and trying to tether herself to the earth. It was a lot. There were so many periods of time when the floating was so lengthy that she had no sense as to when it would end. Then just like that, she had turned a corner and landed once again. A new place, a person, someone completely unknown to her would appear and she would reach out her hand. The stars decided that this was to be her fate, a constant touching down to discover what it was to be in relation to others.
Over time she would grow and change course, or the others would move as humans eventually do; off to seek their own learning. When that happened, she would once again be a kin to that seed floating on the puff of a dandelion. Roots were not a thing she could grow, even though it was something she yearned for.
One day, someone she hardly knew told her to lean against a tree. “If,” they said " you can breathe in deeply and feel the air flow through you to the roots of this tree, you can understand them without the need to be them.”
She had landed, sanctuary had come through the trees.
Over time she would grow and change course, or the others would move as humans eventually do; off to seek their own learning. When that happened, she would once again be a kin to that seed floating on the puff of a dandelion. Roots were not a thing she could grow, even though it was something she yearned for.
One day, someone she hardly knew told her to lean against a tree. “If,” they said " you can breathe in deeply and feel the air flow through you to the roots of this tree, you can understand them without the need to be them.”
She had landed, sanctuary had come through the trees.
