Maja Sereda's work will be on display in the Miller Library June 3-27. The artist's statement:

In the jungle, as in our daily lives, everything is in perpetual transition. As an immigrant artist, I am captivated by the cyclical nature of existence – the biogenic scum forming and dissipating, the metamorphosis of green leaves into hues of purple, the transformation of mud into a habitat for termites and a haven for cicadas. I find myself dwelling in the in-between states, transfixed by the processes that mirror the fleetingness of life. Nature is a sanctuary, a muse, and media in my work.

 

My abiding love of details, textures, and lush ecosystems materializes in imagery of dense jungles with their profusion of leaves, various creatures and their watchful eyes, the overlapping spaces and intimacies of flora and fauna. While creating my mixed media drawings and fiber artworks, I feel a deep sense of presence, connection, stillness, a meditative state - a feeling of home. My creative act has evolved into an intuitive process which turns up the volume on my sensitivity towards the natural world. Soils, fibers, texture, aromas, paper, barks, and a rich tapestry of earth derived ochres form the building blocks of my artistry.  

 

My current body of work is a conscious recognition of the depth of this connection, a profound sense of belonging, healing and transitions. In the work Fool’s Gold I highlight the fragility of our intertwined relationship to nature, specifically when we look at it purely as a resource for capitalistic gain. As much as the eyes bear witness to the destruction, they also seek to connect with us.

 

For students contemplating a career in the plant sciences, being a forensic botanist is probably not at the top of the prospective career list. Reading Planting Clues by David J. Gibson may change that viewpoint. As the author observes, “an appreciation of the value of plants in forensics is often lacking.”

 

This gripping book relates many cases in which identifying plants is key to solving crimes or making convictions. This includes some very famous cases, such as the kidnapping of the infant child of Charles Lindbergh in 1932. A forester was able to identify the wood in the homemade ladder used to take the child from the second floor nursery. During the trial, the defense moved to have this expert testimony disallowed, but the objection was overruled and the findings helped convict the kidnapper.

 

This is only one of several grisly murder cases in which plants linked the criminal to the crime. Other stories are less gruesome. These include smuggling expensive orchids by mixing them in with less valuable but similar plants. Out-of-bloom, only an expert can tell the difference.

 

This garden of horrors provides fertile ground for fiction writers, too. Marta McDowell writes a rollicking book titled Gardening Can Be Murder, recounting all the ways in which mystery writers have used plants (or fungi) to kill characters, or incriminate killers. As the author observes, “criminal investigation, whether vocation or avocation, calls for many of the same skills as horticulture.”

 

This is a widespread genre and from my own reading I know it is only growing! Nineteen of Agatha Christie’s stories have a garden or plant component, as do four of the adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle.

 

My personal favorite series is Brother Cadfael by Ellis Peters. Set in a 12th century abbey on the Welsh-English border, the eponymous monk is the abbey’s herbalist. Although these are works of fiction, the garden practices are informative and largely accurate for the time. More about this can be found in Brother Cadfael’s Herb Garden by Robin Whiteman, published in 1997.