Water Gathering/Honeycomb Project

Water- What does this mean to you?

I am of the Salt Water clan born for the Bitter Water clan

My maternal grandfather’s clan is Edgewater

My paternal grandfather’s clan is Red Streak into- the-Water

This is who I am

-Melanie Yazzie 

Printmakers who participated in the Water Print Exchange organized by Melanie Yazzie, Boulder, CO also contributed to the "water" honeycomb workshop during the Water Gathering Conference in Boulder, CO, September 30, 2025. Participants: Acadia Kandora, Alanna Austin, Anita Jung, Arista Slater-Sandoval, Brian F Kelly, Candace Garlock, Diana Eicher, Haley Takahashi, Johnny Plastini, Lari Gibbons,, Laura Grossett, Luis E. Perez, Melanie Yazzie, Michelle Martin, Michelle Murillo, Mya Drost, Nicole Hand, Rachel Singel, Renate Mairie, Sheri Klem, Sophie Spheeris, Susan Altman, Theresa Haberkorn, Tiana Boisseau-Palo, Tucker Kalmus

The Honeycomb Project was initially conceived as a way to connect everyone associated with the Rocky Mountain Printmaking Alliance. It was planned as an art activity to be showcased during the RMPA symposium in October 2025 at the Metro Gallery, Reno City Hall. However, early in 2025, the symposium was canceled. By that time, the Honeycomb Project had grown into something larger than imagined. Melanie Yazzie was set to be the keynote speaker for the symposium, and when I called her to share the sad news, she quickly proposed a creative solution: Water Gathering 2025 – Printmaking Conference – Saturday, August 30, 2025.

​In late 2024, Melanie Yazzie invited printmakers to participate in the Water Print Exchange. She encouraged us to reflect on what water means to us. You might ask, what is a print exchange? I must emphasize how meaningful a print exchange can be; it was Melanie Yazzie who introduced me to this activity in 2003. She mentored me while I organized my first print exchange “Blur Purlieu,” and to this day, I remain friends with many of the artists who participated.

​A print exchange is an activity where artists create multiple prints of their artwork and trade them with other participating artists, allowing each participant to receive a diverse selection of prints from the group. This tradition highlights the collaborative and democratic nature of printmaking. Artists sign up to join an exchange and agree to produce a specific number of prints from a single design (an edition.) Usually, there is a theme, and guidelines may dictate which printmaking processes can be used. Formats can include various techniques such as woodblock, etching, or screen printing. The benefits of this exchange include gaining exposure to others' work and receiving original art from peers around the world, culminating in exhibitions or portfolios that celebrate collective creative efforts.

​During the printmaking process, artists create proofs of their designs and may also have prints they deem unfit for the edition. These prints are often repurposed since the substrate is typically archival paper. Thus, artists who wanted to contribute to the Honeycomb Project either sent those proofs to me or brought their prints to the symposium. The activity itself was open to the creativity of the participants. Melanie Yazzie’s students, along with many visiting artists, collaborated by tearing the prints and transforming them into collages themed around “Water.” The only requirement was that they needed to combine two or more artists' prints to create stories of community. 

Water is often related to the metaphor of the honeycomb as a source of life, nourishment, and symbolic abundance, connecting the flow and vitality of water with the harmony and sweetness of the honeycombs structure. The honeycombs geometric design symbolizes harmony, unity, and abundance, reflecting how collective efforts yield both sustenance and renewal, much like how water enables life throughout the natural world.

I did a quick “Google AI” search asking the question, “How is water connected to the honeycomb?” A fun fact I learned from this query is that honeycomb limestone allows underground water to pass through, forming aquifers essential for supporting all plant and animal life. Just as bees build honeycombs to store nourishment, aquifer lattices in the earth hold life-sustaining water, representing the idea that true fullness is found not in isolation but in connected flows. Of course I had to dig a bit deeper into this inquiry, finding out that the honeycomb weathering, also referred to as tafoni, is caused by moisture and salt weathering. It is most prominently seen in the sandstone formations of Colorado National Monument and other areas on the Colorado Plateau; a place we traveled through on our way to Boulder.

​Water connects us all in profound ways. I decided to go back through the prints that I had received in the water exchange and share some of the stories told by the artists. Laura Grossett based her print on the ashray, a deadly water spirit. Based in Scottish legends, the ashray was described as a translucent water creature sometimes mistaken for a sea ghost. According to lore, if an ashray is captured and exposed to sunlight, it melts into a puddle of water. Diana Eicher’s “1:4” print refers to “the fact that one out of four people in the world do not have access to clean drinking water. Due to so many issues happening in the world today, this lack of access to clean drinking water is covered up.” 

Tiana Boisseau-Palo wrote “I only lived in Jacksonville, Florida for the first four years of my life, but returned in later years during Christmas time. Water is where I go to reset when things seem to be going crazy. If I need to get my head on straight, the first thing that I want to do is pack up the car and drive to the nearest beach or lake just to relax and get things figured out. This piece came about in September during my Aunt Lavinia’s funeral in Jacksonville. During that time, true to tradition, my brother, mom, aunt, uncle and I went next door to Jax Beach, spending most of the evening listening to the waves and saying goodbye. The title, ‘Now that she’s gone, I have no reason to come back here,’ comes from my mother saying those words to me earlier that day. While she was right since we have no living family left there, I cannot help but think of every Christmas spent on the beach, watching the pier fishers and collecting shells. That connection is still there; the pull to those places that meant so much to me in my childhood. I can still hear the waves and smell the salt in the air even 1,800 miles away. I know I will be back there soon.”

​My own print, “Once there were water babies” tells the story of the Corvidae, living in a distant future where civilization has crumbled under the weight of environmental devastation, a desolate landscape emerges. This parched land, once vibrant with life, is now a barren wasteland, marked by cracked earth and remnants of plastic, steel and concrete. Amidst this desolation, the mutated raven people, known as the Corvidae, roam in search of lost humanity—both in the physical and spiritual sense.

​Along this road, a petrified blue whale heart is used for a shelter. These whales, once the largest animal on the planet, have long gone with the vanishing oceans. Their hearts weighing as much as 400 pounds, the size of a small car.

​As scavengers, the Corvidae traverse the ruins of once-thriving cities, picking through the debris of human existence and in their search for artifacts, they seek to piece together the story of humanity’s downfall. Each item they find is a treasure, holding fragments of memories long forgotten. The Corvidae believe that by uncovering these remnants, they can reclaim the lost essence of humanity and restore balance to their world.

​Finding a grave of plastic and ceramic spirit dolls, a group of Corvidae begin to unravel the mythology of water babies, piecing together stories gathered from collecting other remnants. The Island of the Dolls, located in the canals of Xochimilco, Mexico, is steeped in a haunting legend. According to the myth, a man named Julián Santana Barrera discovered a drowned girl and began hanging dolls from trees to appease her spirit and prevent further misfortune. Over time, the island became a macabre collection of dolls, believed to come alive at night. The water babies can be heard crying near edges of toxic lakes, luring creatures to their poisonous death below turquoise waters.

​The Corvidae believe the road to Terminus will end and the earth will heal. They hold onto the hope that their scavenging efforts will one day lead to a rebirth, where the lessons of the past will inform a new, harmonious existence. This belief fuels their relentless pursuit, as they strive not only to survive but to understand the essence of what it means to be human. In this imagined realm, the Corvidae embody the duality of destruction and rebirth, serving as guardians of forgotten wisdom.

​NOTE: Corvidae is the scientific family name for a group of birds commonly known as corvids, which includes species such as crows, ravens, magpies, and jays. These birds are known for their intelligence, problem-solving abilities, and complex social structures.