I’m writing from my desk while in self-isolation at my home in Toronto, Canada. The government has declared a state of emergency, closing all activities in the public sphere. I’m part of this quiet resistance in which much of the world is engaged, trying to stop a quickly spreading fire.

In just a matter of days a biological invisible entity has brought the world to its knees begging for mercy. Now we have a great opportunity to reflect upon how we have been living our lives. Now we have the chance to be in our present, aware of our intimate surroundings and the implications of our actions as they were, just before this great trial.

Paradoxically, our presence is globally inter-connected to one another by our fragile technologies of image and sound, wires and pulses. These things these days are ever more a part of our biology, our nature. It is a fine time to consider how we will move forward once this fire has been doused, when we can play again together in the great outdoors - our collective home. Let’s take advantage of our growing awareness to nurture the life that is our environment, instead of slowly killing it (and ourselves) with oblivion, as we have been doing.

I consider myself lucky, because I have been holed up editing a film series for the last months already. I have a lot of work to do here still, going through the materials I have collected. A few months ago I was out in the big real world, meeting people and asking them what the expression “the grass is always greener on the other side” means to them.

This expression can take on a diversity of meanings depending on the perspective of the person and their culture. But one thing is for sure: that it is a finger on the pulse of our human yearning for the best life possible. Now, during this rupture of our usual hectic activity, is a chance to imagine and start creating our better lives. To cultivate our gardens - of science, community, technology and earth. To make and keep our grass green.

— Peter Mettler, March 24, 2020