Visiting the Limited Fork Theory time mapping installation on a 40-degree mid-February late afternoon. A mix of human and nonhuman footprints, some human footprints quite ragged and melting into various nonhuman possibilities. Much partying and celebration ceremonies have occurred on the artifact graves. I hear geese, cars, and ambulances. A students walks with with an insulated viola case on her back; a child on her back from the distance sheenters. The jeans and rabbit sleeves suspended from the clothesline branch system dance, partnering with various tree limb shadows, on a golden dancefloor. "Leaves of Grass" cassettes remain intact, waiting for spring.

A week from now, a group of Limited Fork Theory artists will bury work, assorted objects in the woods by the Art & Architecture buillding on north campus between Bonisteel and Fuller. Throughout the woods, objects will be placed underground (to become part of a root system already underway, a system that ultimately connects all, that huge Oregonian fungus, lattices and bivouacs of ants, etc.). We will also orchestrate above ground placements, objects suspended on clotheslines as part of and extensions of the canopy; these acts in done wats remixing gestures of Stephen Gill and Andy Goldsworthy, two notable nature collaborators.

It is in some ways a remixing of some of the intentions entangled (as can happen with roots and bifurcating systems) in Stephen Gill's "Buried" project (the companion book includes a print with the injunction: "bury your own," so in some ways, we're apparently following interpretations of the rules (the "your own" a tad problematic for LFT), and breaking, as beautifully as we can, other parts of the rules, replacing them with other parameters.
We are collaborating with environmental forces and entities to extend the works, to co-make, to co-own as well as ci-author. A final unearthing, a final taking in of the aesthetic laundry will occur at the end of March when we will configure the environmental outcomes into delights of form impossible to define now and perhaps not even in March.
Something will happen to what is buried and suspended so as to allow co-authors of environment and circumstance to mark the objects. We look forward to the signitures of dirt, the poetry of melt and seepage. Coming is some of the joys of communing with some of the superorganism and superecosystem with which we share an embrace.