Showing posts with label blaise koller. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blaise koller. Show all posts

October 20, 2018

Clay Motion

Clay Motion
By Blaise Koller
Muley Point
October 7, 2018



Dripped clay down a few rock faces over the past few days. I’m sure having just gone to the Greater Chaco area, and being around all of these fracking sites and hearing the constant motor sounds, and knowing that Bears Ears is being threatened by the same kind of fracturing changed how I saw these flowing forms spilling down the rocks. It also made me think about my own participation of facilitating the making of these forms. Watching the clay water flow from high on the rock, eventually onto the ground and into the soil, I thought of the spreading effect of the chemicals being injected into the ground to extract natural gas. Although I started the process of dripping the clay, it moved on its own, spreading and moving downwards. This initial action made me contemplate the initial actions of fracking, and even if the infrstructure is removed or the well shut down, the damage has already been done. Those actions and their known and unknown consequences cannot be taken back after the ground, and all the things that are in relationship to it are damaged in such a violent and forceful way. The colors of the clays made me feel differently about their meanings in my mind too. I think from the culture I grew up in, I associate this yellow green color with sickness, disease, something toxic. Nuclear waste, even if nuclear waste might not literally be that color or near it. So dripping it near these precious tinajas that hold the water that falls from the sky to feed the small life that lives in them felt slightly wrong. However, with the grey-green clay, it seemed to me to blend in more with the rocks and colors around it, seemed to fit into the landscape more, even though both the clays were from the same spot, in between two huge rocks.

October 15, 2018

Reality Tour

Reality Tour
By Blaise Koller
Four Corners
September 26, 2018

Things today going on the “Fracking is Fracking Reality Tour” with Daniel Tso

-Yellow Poles: Warning gas pipeline
-Loud, unrelenting ubiquitous motors
-Petrified Wood
-Huge circular pools filled with produced water (In traditional oil and gas wells, produced water is brought to the surface along with oil or gas.)
-Dog tracks
-White PVC pipelines
-Flat soft black plastic tubes
-Workers setting up a well
-Many semi trucks carrying water and other supplies with names unkown to me
-Huge blue storage containers professing “rain for rent” on the sides
-Pools from fracking water runoff
-White and pink tiny flowers on unknown plant
-Yellow and black bold sign “METHANE GAS ODORLESS TOXIC IN OUR AIR”
-Elementary school with very high readings
-Colorful sunset
-Fajada Butte in the distance looking from a fracking site




October 8, 2018

Sky Roots

Sky Roots 
by Blaise Koller 
Wild Rivers 
12 September 2018,  

Brionna and I have been sleeping and camping the last couple nights out on this ledge overlooking the gorge at Wild Rivers. The view is insane. When looking out over the gorge, you can see the other side of it, 1,000 feet below, and the sky stretches in front, to the sides, and above you to infinity. The first evening before the sun went down, I laid on the ground and felt my tired body sinking into the rocks below me, while the clouds lifted my perception up and outwards to their heights. We set up our tents near the edge, but beyond that there was this little squarish space that was perfectly sized for two people. It was surrounded by large rocks on all sides. The first night, Brionna and I pulled our mats and sleeping bags out to that little space on the edge and slept under the stars.  

That night- 

The stars and milky way are endless, and it gives one the impression of floating, since you can't see anything below but black. I've never slept in such an expansive, boundless place, and it feels so opening and also a bit scary and vulnerable. The ledge has a slight incline that points down to the ground far below. It's very slight, but you can feel it. But there are rocks to hold you in, and I haven't really been slipping, so it feels oddly safe at the edge. But I can't completely let go of the fear of tumbling off and thinking of the fragility of my body if these huge rocks underneath me were tumbling over me. This morning waking up, there was not a cloud in the sky. Not one. The colors of the sunrise gradated from light pink to light blue, changing every minute.