Elephant Time

Diane Farris, 2015

Elephants have always been significant to me. From the sizable baby elephant sculpture in our front hall to my son’s beloved Mr. Greenjeans to the pachyderms pulling the small family Christmas sleigh, they are a notable - if unusual - presence in our home, witnessing and blessing. In zoos, books and documentaries, we are drawn to the elephants.

As I prepared for a month’s artist’s residency in Mendocino, I tucked an elephant postage stamp and elephant paper into a portfolio of supplies, familiar talismanic images. Just before the trip to California, our family visited Elephant Appreciation Day in tiny, nearby Williston Florida (who knew?), precious time together. That day was a fundraiser for Two Tails Farm and the six elder Indian elephants living there. We were moved and disturbed by director Pat Zerbini’s discussion of the accelerating disappearance of elephants from our world.

Settling into my quarters in Mendocino, I was somehow not surprised to find a book left by an earlier tenant, Murakami’s The Elephant Vanishes. My practice during the residency was to make a photograph each day. Elephants kept turning up. On my Dad’s birthday, the first since his passing, an image came together with the book, the paper and stones gathered on walks in the spectacular Mendocino Headlands State Park, with its breath taking views of the Pacific.