Turtle Derby: You Can’t Go Home Again (2022)
Wax, chalk, soil from: East of the bridge by Bird Creek, Dirt by barn, Garden in the lower 40, School dirt from bottom washout, South of driveway off Elwood, Route 5 & Scenic at the Northwest corner, Zoo lot, Woods across the street, Bottom pasture - north side, Behind the Dollar Tree off Elm, 71st street and Hagar Creek - south side, Across from feed store, East of Downtown Airport between it and the MO River, Wyandotte County Lake - western shore, Fox River Trail by the old mill, Holding pond in front of Lowe’s, Behind the mailboxes at the bottom of the drive, Empty lot where the old Luby’s used to be - south end, Luckystone Drive north of the bridge, West side of the road before the T, Love’s in Rolla, MO, Woods behind the parking lot for the shooting range, Gillam Park - north ditch, Top of the mountain bike trail - 20 ft past the trail head sign, Left of the pull off where washing machine was dumped last summer, Haybarn thicket, The yard with the tire swing, By the bluebird boxes on top, Ravine - SE side, Pasture by treeline, Northern acreage near stock pond, Baseball field on the train track side, Creek a the back of the yard, Landing field - unmowed pasture, In the bottom by big Pecan.
Turtle Derby: You Can’t Go Home Again is an ongoing exploration of the phenomena of turtle racing. For turtle races, box turtles (and other types of turtles) are caught in the days and weeks leading up to the events. There are several styles of race, but turtles being placed in the center of a ring is a common set up, where the first turtle to leave the ring “wins”. Box turtles are known to have intense site fidelity, meaning that they live out their lives in a home range of 2 - 10 acres, and don’t do well when they are removed. They wander aimlessly and usually succumb to starvation or disease within the year.
In this work, each individual turtle is cast from wax and soil that is specific to the site of a turtle race or specific to the home range of a box turtle. I collect soil personally, and am sent soil from across the midwest by folks who cross paths with these turtles. While I am interested in the derbies, the intersections between human and turtle and how our identities intertwine during the activity, as well as beginning conversations to think about ways that we can be better stewards of the nonhuman world around us, the turtle derby is also a decoy for my own desire to return to a home that no longer exists. The ritual of returning “home soil” to each of these turtles becomes about my own grief and struggle to process personal loss and global catastrophe.