The Open Mind Series is a selection of interviews with artists, designers and other ‘creators’ from around the world giving us an insight into how they see the world now and tomorrow. No qualifications required. No taboo. No right or wrong. Just openness. And artworks.
How do you imagine the world in 20 years?
I imagine a world that has gone through some significant strife for at least fifteen of those twenty years. After some major shakings, explosions and convulsions, I am optimistic that the overall movement will be towards something positive. The next twenty years are an age of examination and a return to a spiritual way of living. This is different than religion, it is a compass that comes from no longer relying on outside stimulus to fill the hole that nature and community once did. It will be fifteen or so years of doing the work that must be done by any addict letting go of his/her drug; many cultures are addicted to consumption, spectacle, and petroleum.
I imagine that climate change will no longer be up for debate. In twenty years, everyone will have been greatly impacted by rising global temperatures. It will be a matter of adaptation at that point. The majority of people will have been forced to migrate, and many fights of different kinds — at different levels — will have happened, with some still continuing.
However, the tide of denial will be obsolete and new innovation will have moved into its place. I feel that those who have nurtured a vision for more community-based, eco-friendly commerce and lifestyles will have begun to be taken more seriously, whether it be out of necessity, desperation, or logic. People will value quality of life over quantity of goods. People will rise and begin to truly embrace the ways of the elders (earth-centric). The youth of today (currently in their teens and early twenties) will have made major policy shifts towards a better world. It will be a rough in twenty years because it takes a while for incubating ideas to take a firm hold.
Either that, or we will have destroyed ourselves from the inside-out and are smashing tuna cans on the sidewalk to get them open for our weekly dinner.
How do you imagine the world in 1000 years?
I imagine a world of bountiful natural beauty that is treasured and protected. I also imagine a world with less people. A massive human population is not sustainable — and as we can see now from Covid-19, nature will edit out large numbers of the population. I imagine that defining the differences between humans to be a thing of the past.
I also believe that education and a return to a nature-centric narrative will naturally cause the tide to shift for more altruism, thoughtful living, and preservation. I see cities and small community villages that function like biological organisms because it makes sense to build them that way.
What is the plant, animal or object that most inspires you and how?
I am most inspired by birds. They are the ancestors of dinosaurs, and thus are a living, breathing example of nature’s resilience and adaptability. To me, they are gorgeous little angels whose lives are full of both beautiful small acts of grace, and heroic acts of fortitude. These acts include bird songs, mating dances, the caring of young, and traveling thousands of miles during migration. I am always aware of birds, all of the time. I have birds tattooed all over my body and have created hundreds of paintings with birds as symbols of irrepressible beauty.
What is the emotion that drives you in your work?
There are always many emotions that just surface at different times, like waves. However, I can probably say that right now, the emotion that drives me in my work is a kind of curious, cautious optimism. Its been life chapters of emotion, really. Early on, I was only interested in beauty, and the natural world provided me with all of the inspiration I needed. But starting about twenty years ago, research into ecosystems led me down the path of examining habitat loss and climate change. A sense of environmental melancholia and guilt pervaded my research. I have been through a lot of grief when exploring topics related to climate change and over-consumption, and it did consume me for a while. Now, I feel that I have a duty to continue to celebrate nature’s resilience by making beautiful artworks, fight for what can be restored, and educate others. Once I learned that grief is the other face of love, it became easier for me to stay curiously, cautiously optimistic.
How do you connect with the Earth today?
I connect by both going outside and bringing the outside indoors (*she winks at her many houseplants). Whether short walks or long residencies, I take time to get away from concrete walls. When I am outside, I examine the beauty of things growing and singing around me as if I may never see them again (that may sound dark, but I see it as reverent… nature has a way of inspiring the best in me if I keep alive my sense of wonder and humility). I appreciate plants and animals for surviving and thriving… for providing us with food, song, spiritual sustenance, and displays of beauty. My favorite place to be is in the woods…finding mushrooms and moss… listening to birds fly above me….smelling the gorgeous scent of decay and growth happening all around.
What is your dream for the arts world?
My dream for the arts world is to support artists who continue to question the issues of our time, and to support artists whose work causes us to feel exultant, curious, and alive.
What’s the best thing on earth?
The best thing on Earth is to be floating on icy Arctic water in front of a glacier. She towers, seemingly static…but you know that her body is slowly inching forward, sliding over black pulverized rocks. She tips imperceptivity forward at the edge. Her body is a library of time, a collection of lives…millions and millions of snowflakes that fell in a snowstorm thousands of years ago — now compressed into cerulean blue and white sandblasted glass. She tips further. A piece of her releases its tight grip and — arms out — she falls in slow motion. Thousands of birds raucously scatter into the snowy, glistening dust that appears as she plunges into the black, deep water of the fjord. The sound happens long after the fall…cracking and echoing sonic booms that forcefully permeate your body like a cello’s lowest note.
Its only when the wave from her graceful dive actually moves the boat that you realize you have not exhaled in a what seems like hours.
It is the best thing on Earth.
Regan Rosburg (b. 1977) received her MFA from Lesley University College of Art and Design (2016), and her BFA at the University of Colorado at Boulder (2000). She is an artist, curator, and professor (Rocky Mountain College of Art and Design). Nationally exhibited since 2006, her work highlights the intelligence of ecology and destructive human consumption. She is represented by William Havu Gallery (Denver, Colorado).