Miriam Saperstein

Creek Bed

“From the River”

Artist’s Statement

In the Jewish month of Tishrei, trees on the banks of Karakung (a creek in the part of
Lenapehoking where I live) cast off their leaves. I mimic the trees, casting off my sins at the riverbank through the ritual of tashlich.

Tashlich is sometimes framed as sin-disposal, where we stop worrying about our transgressions as soon as we leave them in the water. However, as a living reminder of what lives on in a sick or “disposable” body, I’m interested in what endures in the ecosystems abandoned by capitalism, learning from the work of Anna Tsing and others.

“From the River” evokes the popular call for Palestinian liberation, engaging with the river and her riparian edge as a site of necessary transformation. As all water is connected, so too our liberation is part of a whole. I return to the river to remember this, and to find solace in our shared illness. The forces that decided I was disposable and left me with Long Covid are the same that commit genocide and poison this creek.

As all water is connected, so too our liberation is part of a whole. I return to the river to remember this, and to find solace in our shared illness.

What does tashlich look like when we take seriously the ecological and relational implications? The trees provide insight. As Lucille Clifton writes in “the lesson of the falling leaves,” “such letting go is love.” As the leaves and sins travel downstream, they decompose in a complex process that the ecosystem depends on. When we cast off the ways we participate in Zionism, we prepare for the work of repair.

“From the River” is made of paper, plastic, string, feathers, leaves, aluminum, ink, wax, and glass. This river contains many lessons:

(The lesson of the eroded sediment and released nutrients) What are we sending downstream to fortify our collective future? What are we receiving from our ancestors upstream?

(The lesson of the bacteria and small insects) What are we decomposing to make sustenance possible for interconnected life ways?

(The lesson of the trees and current) How are we holding each other in the now?