Josie Heibel
I hand-delivered these letters to houses around me. Some made it
into mailboxes, some through letter slots, some tucked into door
handles.
/Mycelial Neighborhood
/Lux Noctis
For a moment, imagine a mushroom.
At one time it was only a spore. When it found the right place, the
spore began branching out into an underground web, called mycelium,
microscopic white threads that reached into the soil, tangled with
plant roots, collecting nutrients and information.
A mushroom sprouts. Above ground, it is silent and still.
Underneath, a city is bustling, growing, communicating.
Community is fungal. My neighborhood isn't a street of houses, it's
hundreds of people and the relationships they weave. It's something
you can't quantify or summarize with data; it's the unrecorded,
unnoticed interaction.
You can't see the web until you dig for it- or ask for the stories
that make it up.
In my thesis project, Mycelial Neighborhood, I ask twenty people in
my community of Highland Park, NJ for a drawing of a mushroom and a
story about their neighbors.
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odio, dapibus ac facilisis in, egestas eget quam. Praesent commodo
cursus magna, vel scelerisque nisl consectetur et. Curabitur blandit
tempus porttitor.
How can you play a part in serving your community's needs?