<span style="font-weight: 400;">We’ve listened to the swallow, smelled the Myrica gale, lamented the devastated woodland, defended the mullein and asters, given birth, found a deceased grandmother in the eyes of a friend. Despite our occupations, we persisted in getting together, and by doing so we established that we were ourselves alive, imperfect. In our blindness, pressing up against the structures and threats that frame our existence, we found the means to redefine ourselves. Like the surface of still water, we see ourselves in that which observes, but mostly in what breaks, cares for, contests, creates. Looking ahead, we perceive the cruel beauty of disasters to come, because they will most certainly come. But we choose to take our place in this battered time, where we seek our own outcomes, where we no longer wait for the light but choose to bring it forth ourselves.</span>

<span style="font-weight: 400;">Being present and at the same time looking beyond the present to something we cannot yet make out is what artists do. By cutting up what is and reconstituting it as possible futures, their work gives us a glimpse of </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">The View from Here</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> and allows us to imagine how we can reinvent ourselves today.</span><span style="font-weight: 400;"> In the studios and gallery at VU, the 2024–25 programming will also enter into dialogue with our main projects—</span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">At the Confluence of the Akiawenrahk: Alliance with Ahkwayaonhkeh</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;">, </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Eco-friendly Photography</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;">, and </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">The Living</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;">—</span><span style="font-weight: 400;">to examine how creativity can be part of collective discussions and their dissemination.</span>