Jose Ramirez's backyard garden of artistic delights
I read a Los Angeles Times article and it made me feel things
Like all geriatric Millennials trying to quiet the noise of a society eating itself alive, I’ve gotten more into plants these past few years. It even started before the pandemic, for me a whole apartment ago, when I invested in a big, pre-potted dracaena and two dangling pothos. I carried them with me from LA’s Picfair Village to LA’s Silver Lake, adding a bunch of friends to the mix along the way: cacti, spider plants, corn plants, even something called an “Amazonian Elephant’s Ear” that has weathered a constant cycle of death and rebirth for three years. (I suppose “constant cycle of death and rebirth” is just… plants, in general, but what I’ve put this thing through feels almost ‘Thrones’-ian in its sadism.)
I like my plants! It gives me simple, Candide-like pleasure to “cultivate my garden” (however indoors) and, even simpler, keep something alive. I would never call myself a “plant parent/daddy/zaddy,” gross, but I do understand the linguistic impulse — the desire to care for something, anything, is, I think, a human one. And plants are a hell of a lot cheaper than the human alternative! Sure, maybe it’s not a baby in the traditional sense, but if you put a binky in the soil and call it “Aiden,” it’s close1.
I bring up the whole “plants are progeny” thing not as some eco-terrorist manifesto, but to explain why I clicked on an LA Times article last week about this local artist, Jose Ramirez, who over many years has transformed his otherwise nature-inhospitable backyard into a veritable orchard of plants and fruit trees.
It’s a lovely read in its entirety! And so simple: a dude who felt called, somehow, to turn one thing (a dirty backyard) into another thing (Stardew Valley). Outside of tips he’d picked up from his late father, who also kept a small plot of fruit trees, Ramirez knew almost nothing about horticulture when he started planting. A lot of what he did plant died, or bore minimal fruit. By his own admission he tried out like ten different avocado trees before getting one to really grow.
“You know some things are going to work and some aren’t going to work, but you’ve got to take chances and try new things.”
Obviously he’s describing the act of planting here, but also just… art. Which makes sense — in addition to his full-time work as an LAUSD (that’s Los Angeles Unified School District) teacher, Ramirez is also an accomplished fine artist.
You’ve probably never heard of him! I hadn’t. And maybe that’s what brought me to tears: the story of this guy toiling away on, essentially, a decades-long art project. Ramirez’s orchard is, first and foremost, a source of food (nearly sustainable for his family of vegans) and natural comfort. But it’s also just another canvas on which to paint. The materials may be different, in this case vastly more edible, but the creative impulse — and impact — the same.
It’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately, the art you do for you. And given I’m not currently getting paid for it, all my art is for me! Movie scripts I’ve written, TV series bibles I’ve assembled. Hell, this blog substack. (Listen, far be it for me to describe a paragraph-long write-up of ‘This Fool’ as “art,” it’s just the easiest term available.) I like to think that, absent a paycheck, the fact that I continue to plug away on various writing projects proves I’m — to put it in ‘Bachelor’ terms — “here for the right reasons.” I could have been an astronaut by now, or even president! I just really like writing about little-seen Hulu comedies, and satirically reviewing snacks.
Jose Ramirez’s fruit trees paint such a clear picture to me of an artist’s life. A teaching salary largely pays his bills. Art sales (here!) and other jobs fill in the gaps. But then there’s the stuff you just do, whatever its market value; unsolicited work that scratches an itch, and best-case scenario cultivates joy. I don’t doubt that Ramirez, like yours truly, would love to get that cheddar and focus full-time on his artistic endeavors. But it’s clear he’ll never stop making art — on the canvas or in the ground — whatever the top-line entry on his LinkedIn page. It’s not about the nouns, baby! It’s about the VERBS2.
Three (3) more reflections on art and/or Mother Nature
The Green Life: for going on a decade, my good friend TPG has been delivering gardening and great outdoors #video #content I can only describe as, and I think he’d appreciate this designation, Malick x Masshole
Henning vs. Modern Art: 26-year-old Henning takes no prisoners when it comes to gently mocking the work of Cy Twombly, Barnett Newman, and others!
Superbloom 2K17: rainy SoCal winters sometimes yield flower-abundant SoCal springs. Join me on a trip to Antelope Valley’s Poppy Reserve
Henning, what in the fuck are you talking about
For instance “like” and “subscribe”
Excellent as always Henning. Mr. Ramirez reminds me of some great gardeners and artists that I interviewed as a feature writer years ago for the VI Daily news