I encourage you to similarly go to your nearest waterfront and create some artwork of your own. You’ll thank me later! Make a sketch, create a small painting, start some needlework, practice your photography, make digital art on your smartphone...anything! Just remember to take your litter with you and return often.

Now we'll insta-navigate you to all the hidden parts, the other side of the fences, utility yards, landfills, and construction sites that have hindered your path to the shore.

What do I do at this juncture of land, memory, and water? I bump up against steel, consumption & blocked access to the actual water & land.

Sarah Cameron Sunde invites the public to face the water and spend a week tracking the NYC tidal shifts in relationship to the land, our bodies, and global sea level rise.

‘You Heard Me: A Flows N Figurations Performance’ is a call-and-response based theatrical experience that explores that question from the lens of water, from the lens of dreams, and from the lens of spirit.

I am here for #WalkingTheEdge as a mother to and student of Jonah, age 8, who has Down syndrome, Autism and hearing loss, and a profound connection with water.

A virtual visit to Jamaican Bay via runoff. Because even when we don't go to the shore, our rain water does.

Self-guided walks (in person or on Google maps) around some long erased shorelines in hopes that we can re-imagine what used to be here and what we can learn/create from its erasure.

A speculative journey around Jamaica Bay through poetry and imagery collages.

Sunk Shore (Carolyn Hall and Clarinda Mac Low) brings you on a tour of the climate changed future on the shores of the East River.

Join them as they time-travel to 2092 and back again.

What pulls you to the water's edge? Why are you here? How do you feel? What do you feel? What do you smell?  What can you hear? Have your breaths changed?

"The Edge Within" asks people to get in tune with the water we have in our bodies and how it carries memories of our ancestors. 

When I think of the water’s edge I think of this massive body as the element that brought many of our ancestors here.
The water holds memories of their voyages.
Today, I’m prompting you to think about water as being a place of reflection. How does a large body of water make you feel?

On Friday, June 12, Tattfoo Tan takes us on a meditative journey along the north shore of Staten Island, traveling along one of our original Walking the Edge routes, inspired by this passage from Swami Vivekananda:

The video piece, Agua de Vida, documents the enactment of an intuitive expression of water worship made at Jamaica Bay and contemplates water and land as the most basic components of a human body.

Rising sea levels and living in a city originally made Simone Johnson think of the legend of Atlantis. She wondered about the place millions call home going underwater at some point in the future.

sTo Len takes us on a scenic stream of consciousness walk through his neighborhood to his favorite waterfront off the beaten path: the Newtown Creek. Along the way are the ghosts of waters past, old trails, lots of memories, discarded gloves and a few masked friendly faces.

In this week’s walk to the edge, consider bridges—on foot or virtually, through StreetView or through the links provided to different city maps.

Where does your imagination go along the water’s edge?
What might we learn about the history of our water's edge that can inform the future we want…

What is the waterfront?
Is your water’s edge what you hoped it would be?
If not, what would you want it it to be in the future?