In the series Conversations With Nature, I have worked with obects from nature to rebuild objects from nature that have fallen apart. The project is a symbolic look at what we can do to put nature back together if we suddenly realize we have gone too far and dismantled all of it. Nature doesn’t have much of a voice, at least not the way we need it to. Very few of us are versed in the language of floods and droughts, hurricanes and ice storms. But what if nature did have a voice and if it was communicating with us. Perhaps I could compare my organic sculptures to songs or poetry, and if Outburst, the photograph in this post, is a song, it is loud and imposing. Outburst is an assertion of emotion, a flare-up of colour from a quiet and shrinking base. The tiny tendrils, in shades of beige, are all leaning together as if to hide among each other. The leaves at the base, the only showing of leafy-green, are diminutive and unassuming. And then, springing from the core is the most vibrant and extravagant profusion of magenta. The petals are larger than the base from which they have sprung. The colour seems an exaggeration and is tipped with orange as if alight with flame. The shapes are erratic, unplanned, and uncontrolled. It is an explosion of passion like love fed by devotion, fear spiked with terror, anger whipped with fury, or lust unrestrained. If Outburst is a message, what is it saying? What emotions are these? What can we say in return?