Embracing the Art of Nothing
As I sit in the deep, cozy bowl of the Morcom Amphitheatre of Roses, surrounded by the lush flora and the gentle movements of birds, I can’t help but feel a sense of serenity and connection that has become increasingly elusive in our hyper-connected, productivity-driven world. It’s here, amidst the unhurried rhythms of nature, that I find the inspiration and the courage to do nothing – or rather, to do the most important thing of all: to simply be.
This practice of “doing nothing” has become a sort of survival tactic for me, especially in the aftermath of the 2016 election. Confronted with the relentless barrage of information and misinformation, the constant urge to voice an opinion, and the ever-present demand to optimize every waking moment, I found myself yearning for pockets of solitude and silence – a respite from the frenetic pace of modern life.
As writer Jenny Odell eloquently expressed, “Nothing is neither a luxury nor a waste of time, but rather a necessary part of meaningful thought and speech.” And it is in these moments of stillness, of allowing my mind to simply wander and observe, that I find the greatest inspiration – not for the frantic creation of new things, but for a deeper understanding of the world around me and my place within it.
Cultivating the Observational Eros
My journey towards this practice of “doing nothing” has been a gradual one, rooted in my love for observation and an emotional fascination with the world around me. From my series “Satellite Landscapes,” where I painstakingly removed the ground from Google Earth screenshots, to my “Bureau of Suspended Objects” project, where I cataloged the histories of objects found at the dump, I’ve always been drawn to recontextualizing and shedding new light on the things that already exist.
This “observational eros,” as I’ve come to call it, is a deep affection for one’s subject that overpowers the desire to create something new. It’s akin to the patience and care that the author John Steinbeck described when collecting marine animals: “You must let them ooze and crawl of their own will onto a knife blade and then lift them gently into your bottle of sea water.”
It’s this same gentle, reverential approach that I’ve applied to my artistic practice – a light touch that seeks to preserve the fragility and mystery of the subject, rather than to alter or remove it from its original context. And it’s this sensibility that has drawn me towards documentary films and public art pieces like Eleanor Coppola’s “Windows,” which simply frames the existing art of the city, or Scott Polach’s “Applause Encouraged,” which creates a contemplative space around a sunset.
The Architecture of Nothing
At the heart of these projects is a shared understanding: that the artist’s role is not to impose their own vision, but to create structures – whether spatial, temporal, or conceptual – that hold open a space for contemplation and receptivity. In the Morcom Amphitheatre of Roses, this takes the form of a branching system of paths and stairways that gently invite the visitor to slow down, to wander, and to be present. Similarly, the Chapel of the Chimes, with its labyrinthine rooms containing ashes and personal belongings, encourages a deep consideration of one’s own mortality and the fragility of life.
This concept of an “architecture of nothing” resonates deeply with the work I’ve done in transforming an IKEA Pax closet into a fully custom, built-in solution. By adding baseboards, crown molding, recessed lighting, and custom drawer fronts, I was able to create a space that feels far removed from the modular, mass-produced aesthetic of the original system. The result is a serene, contemplative space that invites the user to linger and appreciate the nuances of their surroundings, rather than rushing through a utilitarian task.
Tuning In to the More-Than-Human
But the practice of “doing nothing” extends beyond just physical spaces – it’s also about cultivating a mode of perception that is attuned to the more-than-human world around us. It’s about learning to listen, in the deep, embodied sense that composer Pauline Oliveros described – to the rhythms of nature, to the subtle cues of other living beings, and to the vast, interconnected web of which we are a part.
For me, this journey of attunement began with birdwatching. As I walked the paths of the rose garden, I found myself pausing to listen for the distinct calls of scrub jays, crows, and hawks. Gradually, I began to recognize these individual voices, to associate them with the shapes and movements of the birds themselves. It was as if the world had suddenly become richer, more textured, and more alive.
This process of noticing, of really seeing and hearing the world around me, has had a profound impact on my sense of place and my own sense of self. It’s allowed me to step back from the relentless human-centric perspective and to glimpse the world through the eyes of other creatures – to imagine what the scrub jay or the raven might see when they look at me, and to consider my own animality in the context of the larger-than-human.
Protecting the Spaces and Times of the Human Animal
In a culture that increasingly privileges connectivity, productivity, and the ceaseless accumulation of new experiences, this practice of “doing nothing” and embracing the more-than-human world has become an act of resistance. It’s a refusal to be defined solely by our economic value or our ability to generate novel content, and a reclaiming of our fundamental identity as embodied, sensory beings.
At Unfinished Furniture, we believe that this embrace of the human animal, with all its messy, unpredictable, and non-monetizable aspects, is essential to the creation of truly meaningful and sustainable living spaces. That’s why we’re committed to designing and building furniture that not only meets functional needs, but also creates pockets of respite, contemplation, and connection with the natural world.
Whether it’s a custom-built closet that evokes the serene rhythms of the rose garden, or a piece of statement furniture that invites the user to slow down and observe the world around them, our mission is to help our clients create homes that nourish the body, mind, and spirit. Because in a world that often seems to value speed, efficiency, and the relentless pursuit of novelty, the true luxury lies in the freedom to simply be.
So I invite you to join me in this exploration of the art of “doing nothing” – to carve out spaces and times in your life where you can tune in to the more-than-human, to listen deeply, and to rediscover the beauty and wonder that has always been there, just waiting to be noticed.
