.

Crushed – An Exhibit by Amy Snider. Photo credit: Alex Tacik

”Everything reminds me of what we are destroying, and nearly every step I take implicates me in this destruction: every trip to the grocery store; every movie I stream; every glass of water I drink. Nothing I do is innocent, and the consequences are terrifying.”  — Amy Snider

LINK TO AMY’s WEBSITE: Amy Snider

The sky is orange, its colour the result of light bouncing off microscopic bits of wood, leaves, and pine needles that were recently forests: Jasper; Golden. Places I’ve travelled to many times, places that have healed me. In this smoke, their molecules travel to me here. Is that burnt warbler I smell? Was it scared? Did it hurt? I’m grateful to have a home to protect me from this toxic air, but what of the birds in my backyard? Birdsong used to be beautiful; now it makes me sad. I dig clay from this place, here. Touching it, I can imagine myself in another world; I can feel glaciers and lakes, forests and grasslands, flora and fauna, systems functioning the way they had for spans of time incomprehensible to us. What should I make from this clay, today, from within these broken systems? Nothing that will last. Everything reminds me of what we are destroying, and everything I create is a part of this destruction. Nevertheless, I am driven to create.

I am an artist and writer originally from the Lower Mainland, but living in Regina, Saskatchewan, for the last twenty years. I’ve spent some time on Galiano Island, and it’s now my dream to move there in a few years. Growing up, my time at a summer camp on Gabriola Island year is what most helped me survive an otherwise abysmal childhood, and that experience, merging the beauty of the Gulf Islands with the feeling of happiness, has never left me. It was that experience that also instilled in me a need to cherish and conserve our remaining wild spaces. I now use both activism and art to convey the importance of this work to others.

My artwork represents the effects of climate change on the world and on myself. Recent pieces include a series of ephemeral cups, bowls, and plates that convey melting glaciers, drought, and eco-anxiety as they dissolve, crumble, and blow away.

Crushed exhibit by Alex Tacik

The above text circles the gallery walls in a single line in my exhibit current installation, Crushed, on view in the group show Unsilenced at the Moose Jaw Art Gallery and Museum. Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, is very far away from Galiano Island, so let me describe the show.

Crushed is a ceramics installation about climate change anxiety. The gallery floor is covered with over 1,000 eggshell thin ceramic bowls made from clay I dig up from my backyard. To read the text, you need to become a participant: will you step carefully between the bowls, perhaps tiptoeing or raising your pant cuffs? Or will you stomp ahead, satisfied by the sound of shattering ceramic beneath your feet? What will you leave behind for others?

Crushed creates an environment that brings participants’ own climate fears to the surface, shows them that such feelings are justified and shared, and offers them resources and support. At the end of the wall text is information about non-profit organization I founded and a discussion circle led by a psychologist that takes place in the gallery at the end of the show.

Crushed – Photo credit: Mona Navai

Climate anxiety is on the rise. This is not good. If anything hopeful is possible, we need people who care to demand action. Caring can be painful. I know. Through my art and writing, I offer people a space of solace and support.

Here, in this series of articles, I will share my experiences of climate anxiety and a few of the resources I’ve found helpful to me in my worst times. For starters, you can take a look at the “eco-stress conversations” and “other resources” tabs on the website of the organization I started, EcoStress Sask. Feel free to reach out to me via its contact page if you’d like to share your response to this topic.

Amy Snider, by Andrew Peach