BryoDwellings at Earthbound Gardens

Yesterday, I installed BryoDwellings (2 of 3 that exist) in their final resting place at Earthbound Gardens in Red Bay, Ontario. They were first exhibited last September at Deep Water Gallery in the group show GroundWorks (curated by Ann Marie Hadcock).

Before creating BryoDwellings, I had been thinking a lot about the spaces we can design with and for non-humans. I’m also interested in rest (in all its definitions as a verb and a noun), and spaces of rest, and how rest + space can lead to transformation. Non-humans use their spaces of rest (e.g., nests, surfaces, branches, soil) to activate transformation in themselves or others (laying eggs, shelter, water retention, hibernation, metamorphosis and decomposition). Sometimes we perceive non-human spaces of rest as inanimate, or devoid of purpose. But often these spaces are active in the cycle of life. For example, the forest floor is a place of rest and transformation. An old log that rests on the forest floor might be perceived by trail walkers as dead, inanimate or ugly. But the old log is decomposing with the help of fungi, insects, microbes, wind, rain and snow. It is mixing with the humus and giving new essence to the soil beneath.

For humans, rest is risky. We are encouraged to be as productive as possible, or we risk being called lazy. Rest is for some a luxury, for others a prescription, for most the only rest we know is the sleep we get at night. Is our limited experience of rest keeping us from achieving true development? What if humans embraced and engaged in spaces of rest the way non-humans do? What if rest happened in alternative spaces? Imagine the possibilities for self-transformation if you were given the time and space to hibernate! I think it’s time that we look to non-humans for wisdom, to refresh our mindset and our use of space. But not in an extractive or anthropocentric way.

According to Dr. Robin Wall Kimmerer (Gathering Moss, 2003), moss prefers to grow in small, overlooked spaces, or wherever it wants to. The slow and intelligent growth of this benign, soft and ancient plant deserves more attention. Moss seems to thrive in spaces of rest and is itself a miniature space of rest for microbes, invertebrates and insects. Its transformative gifts are enchanting and indispensable: it absorbs carbon dioxide, retains water, cools the surfaces it inhabits, provides habitat for thousands of creatures, and has had numerous uses for humans for thousands of years.

What if we created spaces of rest with and for the non-humans that do so much work to keep this planet alive? What if we take the time to observe their spaces of rest in an effort to learn new lessons in design and transformation? Instead of optimizing and profiting from the gifts of mosses, what if we designed spaces with and for moss to rest and proliferate? What can future imaginaries of space teach us about co-existing with non-humans and within planetary boundaries? These are some of the questions I’ve been exploring over the summer of 2025 with the help of my student Gayathri Mavila (3 rd year Environmental Studies, Wilfrid Laurier University).

BryoDwellings is an experimental sculpture, constructed mostly from ceramics and fence posts. The design could help us to speculate about spaces of a more-than-human future. There is no expectation that moss will inhabit the piece during the exhibition, and I don’t want to force the process. But once it finds a permanent home, I expect the piece will be inhabited and transformed by many non-humans over a long period of time, and I look forward to meeting them and learning from them.

If you want to see the BryoDwellings in person, head to Red Bay, Ontario, and visit Earthbound Gardens. Tour their gardens and take in their healing qualities. Hopefully the sculptures will become grown over and become homes to a variety of inhabitants.