GUTHRIE JOSEPH AVRUM SIWINSKI2024
The leaves turned red then green again, And I learned that nothing dies forever. I grew and found that life is certain to continue. And I fell in love with the process of becoming.   

I gathered plant stems and rolled them between my fingers and loved when the tar in the asphalt hit my nose. I buried myself in the hot sand in the dunes and watched the shadows flicker and bounce around under the cover of a big tree. I didn't know a lot, but I was forgiving. And I held my hands out constantly, trusting that whatever was placed in them would be something of value. A drizzle of rain was a welcomed guest because it meant change. And a rip in my pants, or a mud stain, meant they had been loved. And love was so important to me. So I learned to offer care to everything just because it exists. I was eager and honest and knew what I needed to know.
                                                                    
And now, The same birds will still chirp the same song when I listen through the window of my old house. There are still millions of blades of grass that are yet to feel a shadow wash over them. And a million plant stems to be rolled between fingers. 

And there is someone else out there hearing the wisdom that the world offers if you would only listen. 

Guthriesiwinski@gmail.com

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07 YOU ARE GONNA BE A LOT MORE COMPLICATED THAN YOU THINK 
April 2024


7.5 x  6.5 x 1

Found Photos & Cyanotype Prints Collected In A Hand Made  Book

This project was born from the idea of gathering. We live our lives constantly collecting not physical objects, but abstract experience and in many ways the act of living life is an act of gathering. This collection of found photos and poems which were written over the course of a year have been curated to illustrate the process of gathering the experiences of empathy and care. The poems and the photos follow the steps of learning these emotions. By combining these poems with photos of strangers, This work creates a space where the honest and vulnerable emotions that are felt through the writing can pass through and be applied to the strangers in these photos. The goal is for the readers to question their egoistic tendencies and begin to feel the wholeness and oneness of everyone and everything. To begin to sense their capacity for radical empathy and care.







The Story of this Project 

    We rode the speedbumps with the same timing, as my father led the way and I followed. In two separate cars, I was driving myself for the first time. And on this road to my grandmother's house, that I've traveled countless times, I began thinking of every person who has ridden this path before. My time spent in this place might be minimal in comparison to the years spent by those living in the houses we pass, yet we now have common ground, me and those amorphous people I imagine. We–both humans, both experiencing life, have found ourselves crossing a similar path. On this trip to my grandmother's house, where those speed bumps became so important, I felt the wholeness and oneness of everyone and everything. 

    I felt comforted by the fact that I am not the only one living a life. I was able to experience these speed bumps just like everyone else. I was given the privilege of adding that experience to my life’s repertoire. This constantly growing collection of nouns and encounters that I've been gathering for my whole life has found a new experience to place among the rest. 

    Familiarity crept its way in and I remembered being a child in the back seat, looking out the window with a different view. I remember feeling as though this was only half of the experience. Riding and driving are very different, and I longed for a time that felt so distant when I could be the one in control. A future that felt simple, the way riding is simple when compared to driving. At eight years old I had no idea of the complex motions and pressures and awareness it took to control a vehicle. In the years between riding and driving I was eager. I wanted the time to pass and I longed for the kind of change that can only come with time. I was unaware of my impulsive urge to grow. 

    Sitting behind the wheel on that vivid day, the seventeen years I had lived so far washed over me. This blooming life brought with it so much I still couldn't see. This process of living was both biting and vulnerable, and I felt every learning curve, every act of growth - it was all naked and certain and ripe at the same time. This rang clear in my mind as I imagined how much more was still to come. What love am I yet to feel from people I don't even know yet, how many more speed bumps will line my path. 

    I swerved back into the white lines on the street, remembering the task at hand as one thought clung to me: “You are gonna be a lot more complicated than you think, give yourself a little grace.”

    When I was finally introduced to the amorphous people that had previously existed only in my mind, it was through an old box of photos at a record store in Portland Maine. Immediately confronted by these strangers, I could not help but begin to question the absurdity of these unknown characters and the inscriptions written on the film. Who is our pig? Why are there peanuts on the mantle? Where are Steven and Greg now? Someone at some point had decided to use one of their precious 36 shots on a roll of film to capture this moment, and pen this handwritten message telling me that 1957, above all others, was a special year. Some camera owner sixty-seven years ago, filled with love and care and joy, felt the need to savor this experience forever, and add it to a physical collection. 

    Steven, Greg, and every stranger in the world have all grown and gathered, all felt the certainty of life. They have all been young and old and somewhere in between. They have all cared, and been cared for, have made mistakes and learned from them, and they have all known what it means to be human. Now I look at the faces in these pictures and remember those speed bumps and I am filled with vulnerable, piercing awareness.