A while back, I asked some of you to answer the question: "What do you imagine when you think of a farmer today?"
Here is a word cloud built from your responses:


A place to document the process of my current studio project, un:Earth
For my final semester of my MFA at the Vermont College of Fine Arts I set out to find a balance between the personal and the political. I intended to explore my father's farm in rural Northern Kentucky as a way to question how corporate farming models were destroying the family farm in America. What I discovered as I began my inquisition was a much more complicated relationship between the farmer, environment, and local and national business interests. I also discovered that many of the artifacts I investigated were triggering memories that I had long forgotten. It has become a complicated inquiry into the way that memory and perspective can shape our politics, and the role that the land, the very earth itself, plays in a complex relationship between a gravel pit, my father and me.
bor·der [bawr-der] –noun
1. the part or edge of a surface or area that forms its outer boundary.
2. the line that separates one country, state, province, etc., from another; frontier line: You cannot cross the border without a visa.
4. the frontier of civilization.
6. brink; verge.
7. an ornamental strip or design around the edge of a printed page, a drawing, etc.
10. Theater .
a. a narrow curtain or strip of painted canvas hung abovethe stage, masking the flies and lighting units, and forming the top of the stage set.