So all in all there wasn’t anything really wrong with my life. Except that, like most everyone else’s I knew about, it had a big gaping hole in it, an enormous emptiness, and I didn’t know how to fill it or even know what belonged there.
Project designers, Anna Citelli and Raoul Bretzel have constructed a biodegradable, organic capsule as an alternative to a coffin called, “The Capsula Mundi.” The purpose of the project is a conceptually and physically beautiful one; it is to reunite the deceased body back with nature and life. After the deceased is buried in a fetal position inside the pod, a tree seed or tree will be planted above the capsule. Within time the body’s nutrients will nurture the ground, causing a tree to grow from the remains.
Instead of harming the environment by chopping down trees for wooden coffins and burying them, the project’s aim is to promote green cemeteries adorned with trees, you can chose. Originally conceived in Italy, the project is a working theory at the moment because Italian law forbids this type of burial. The goal is to comfort loved ones with a majestic body of nature they can visit. “A cemetery will no longer be full of tombstones and will become a sacred forest.”
View the process below.
The client will choose the tree.
The deceased person will be buried in a fetal position inside the pod.
Their bodies will transform into nutrients for a tree to grow.
Amanda Jones has dedicated the past 20 years to an incredible photography project which aims to show just how fleeting the lives of our beloved pets are.
It’s a funny thing about the modern world. You hear girls in the toilets of clubs saying ‘Yeah, he fucked off and left me. He didn’t love me. He just couldn’t deal with love. He was too fucked up to know how to love me.’
Now, how did that happen? What was it about this unlovable century that convinced us that we were, despite everything, eminently lovable as a people, as a species? What made us think that anyone who fails to love us is damaged, lacking, malfunctioning in some way? And particularly if they replace us with a god, or a weeping madonna, or the face of Christ in a ciabatta roll–then we call them crazy. Deluded. Regressive. We are so convinced of the goodness of ourselves, and the goodness of our love, we cannot bear to believe that there might be something more worthy of love than us, more worthy of worship.
Greeting cards routinely tell us everybody deserves love. No. Everybody deserves clean water. Not everybody deserves love all the time.
