Today I brought home a six-week old lamb. Another goose egg hatched. The new batch of chickens made their first foray outside their pen. Sprouts of every shade of green are peeping in tidy rows, each promising an edible delight. My youngest grandchild took his first step.

Today, the springtime exuberance spilled over into my explorations of a very young art movement. Eco-art is germinating on continents across the globe. They are seeding new visions of life on Earth. But, unlike my garden, this movement is a chaotic welter of undetermined potentiality. Eco-artists do not line up and march in lock-step toward their common goal. There are stragglers, sprinters, drifters, and trekkers. Some follow highways laid by predecessors, while others forge new pathways. While eco-art is emerging as a vital cultural force, there is no manifesto that declares a common motive; no manual that teaches required skills; no guild setting standards of excellence; no resource dispensing relevant themes; no creed revealing sanctioned beliefs and verifiable truths.

Eco-art resembles an unnamed sprout – vital, prospective, possibly life-saving, and definitely mysterious.

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