Not A Moment Passes

Although from the beginning 

I knew

the world is impermanent,

not a moment passes

when my sleeves are dry. 

Ryokan (1758 − 1831)

Coming Soon...

...to an art space near you! 

 ("near you" as long as you live in New Haven, CT)
This trailer is a Sodia Like Production.

Tonight's the Night

Could it be Barack and Mitt?

Title page from the book, Men All Around the World,
by Joyce Holland and illustrated by June Talarczyk.
(Yes, the self-same June Talarczyk who illustrated the incomparable, Jimmy's Happy Day.)

Getting What's Coming To You

Several months ago, one of my sisters posted a photo of a coffee cup cozy on my Facebook page with a not-too-subtle hint that she wanted me to make one for her.  I took a quick look at it and scoffed.  Gimme a break!  I could knit that thing blindfolded with two hands tied behind my back!

When I said as much to her, her sister-in-law piped up that she also would like one...actually, two.  Well, ok.  Still, hello?  Child's play!  I can do it in my sleep.  If only I could go to the post office in my sleep, but that is another story.

Cut to several months later.  What's that they say?  Pride cometh before a fall?  

It wasn't the actual knitting that took me so long - as I so boastfully mentioned, the knitting part was quick as a wink.  It was (1) getting to the store to buy the yarn.  I used Lion Brand's organic cotton, btw.  It is really quite lovely.  (2) Actually remembering to knit the damn things.  (3) Picking out suitable buttons.  (4) Debating for a very long time whether said buttons would be suitable and finally realizing that I could just ASK them if they liked these particular buttons.  Through the wondrous power of the interwebs, it is possible to *gasp* send images to another person.  It took me a while to remember this.  And (5, 6 ,7, 8) Sew on the buttons, find envelopes, look up their addresses and yes, get to the post office.

At long last, here they are:

I ended up using moose antler buttons that I had purchased on my very first trip to Newfoundland in 1997.  I told them that no moose were injured in the creation of these buttons but now that I think about it, I am not so sure that is true.  This is the one based on the photo my sister sent me - a basket weave knit.  See?  So simple!

Because I felt so guilty about taking so long to actually get these things out the door, I ended up making each of them another one, this time using a cable design.

Lovely, no?  I mean, if you think the whole idea of a coffee cup cozy is a good one.  I confess that I find them a bit silly.  But they're fast to make!  Really, you can just bang those babies out.  Blindfolded.  With your hands tied behind your back.

Collaboration

Remember this?

It is approximately 500 yds of Rambouillet spun from a lovely fleece dyed by Widdershins Woolworks.  I gave it to my friend, Zabeth, who has been making all those gorgeous lace scarves for Vogue Knitting lately.

She said she thought it need to be some garter stitch.  I didn't argue with her.

Neither did Webster.

Garter stitch with a bit of lace, of course.

Some say there is a method to my madness...

Sraddha*

Since finishing the project for the Cheongju Biennale last fall, I have been occupied with other things - taking care of the nitty gritty details, and the sweeping changes, that are required when one experiences a large shift in life.  I gave myself permission to not worry about what was happening with my art.  And generally, I gave myself permission to just let what was happening happen without setting up too many rules or expectations about what it is was "supposed" to be like.  So far, it is working out very well.   But what about art?  There have been moments when I felt, perhaps for the first time in my life, that making art just wasn't as compelling as it used to be; that maybe I could even live without it.

Nah.  

Yet, things needed a change there too.

After the Korean project, I felt I was most definitely, 100% certainly, finished with anything that might ever get mis-labeled as a yarn bombing project.  The first time I made a piece of knitting for an object outside was in 1997.  I think it is safe to say that I have fully explored that option and all its possibilities.  

I have been working in my studio these days, making drawings and little samples for some larger ideas and generally just messing around.  My goal has been to not get too hung up on what works and what does not and just let it all flow.  It feels very refreshing and very fun.  Who knew?  Art making is fun!

In the back of my mind, there was this niggling thought - let's call it a fear - that if I shifted direction with my work then maybe no one would like it and I would not enjoy the opportunities that I have experienced with my large-scale knitting projects.  You know, it is why a painter who gets famous in their youth for one thing and then keeps making a variation of that painting for the next 50 years.  While I am hardly an art star, I have reached a place where I am "known for" something, and even at my level, it is scary to step away from that.  It had to get to that point where I felt content to die in obscurity rather than make one more damn knit piece for a tree or lamp post.  Hooray!  I reached that place!  I think I just heard a huge sigh of relief from the universe.

Oddly enough, I may yet not die in obscurity (but if I do, I know I am ok with it).  Things are happening: art will be made, workshops will occur.  You are invited.

This coming Friday, I will be at the NewYork Art Book Fair at PS. 1 with ILSSA from 12 − 4 p.m.  Come visit us!  We will be in the zine tent in the courtyard.

On Saturday, October 13th,  I will be leading a cockade making workshop at the Old Stone House in Brooklyn as part of my Be A Rebel or Just Look Like One project for the collaboration, Battle Pass project.  Cockades also will be available for sale in the Proteus Gowanus gift shop if you don't feel like making your own.

And....what have we here?

Wait a minute...I thought you said you were finished with big boxes of Lion Brand yarn in your living room?  First of all, it is a small box. And second of all, it is not for a large scale outdoor project.  It is for a wall-sized piece for an upcoming exhibition at ArtSpace in New Haven, CT, opening in November.

Details to follow.

* Sraddha - Sanskrit for "faith", pronounced shrad-DHAH.  See: Yoga Sutra 1.20

PS.  Related to two posts below....Shugen Sensei will be signing copies of his book, O Beautiful End, this Sunday at 12:30 at the Zen Center of New York City (500 State Street, Brooklyn).  Come!  Buy!  I think you'll find it will be worth the trip.

Mid-Term

Many of my friends have been asking me if I am finished with my yoga teacher training program.  In fact, I only just completed the mid-term exams this weekend.  We had both written and oral exams with essay questions on philosophy, a list of chants to memorize and understand as long as my arm (hint: my arms are really long), and questions about (regular, Western) anatomy, subtle anatomy, practice development for people with health problems and more.  Almost everyone in our group admitted to getting little sleep the night before our oral exams...we were all studying so hard.

Hooray!  We all passed!  Well, several people actually dropped out of the program but perhaps that was not a direct result of the examinations.

There has been some media attention recently about how yoga teachers are certified, with the general agreement that the quality of training can vary widely.  Even within the tradition I am studying, it varies.  A friend is taking a 200-hr training in this tradition with another person and her experience has been very different, and I must say, much less vigorous.  While it might be easy to think that my training must be better because it is more demanding, I think that judgement can only be made when one asks what will the people do who take the training.  Within my 500-hr group, only a couple of us really plan to teach.  The others are doing it for their own knowledge and practice, perhaps with plans to teach in the future, or maybe not.

This isn't "Abs of Steel" yoga or "thin, sexy, cool" yoga or even my dear ashtanga yoga that is so, so appealing to those of us who enjoy a good sweat.  No, this is "so, you say you want to change your life?" yoga.  For whatever reason...a pain in your back, a pain in your heart, or the observation that maybe life doesn't have to be this way: this yoga isn't about feeding what is already overstuffed in your personality.  Believe me, it isn't always fun to have to feed that other part that is starving.  I mean, we were starving it for a reason, right?

Anyway, we are half-way through.  And, no doubt, I will become even more unbearable by the time we finish the other half.

After the oral exams were over and we were all a bit giddy and exhausted, we still had six hours of anatomy with our anatomy instructor.  We were studying our "organ body".  I love our anatomy instructor - she is a dancer and yoga teacher who approaches anatomy in a very experiential way.  At one point, she had us initiating movement via our pancreas.  Maybe it was because we were all in a slightly light-headed post-exam state of mind, but it seemed possible.  I invite you to try.  Your pancreas might thank you.

Death Never Sounded So Good

If you read only one book of memorial poems by a Zen master this year, let it be this one.

Because You Can Never Have Enough Pictures of Yarn and Kitty Cats

Approx. 100 yds, wool and mohair, single ply, bulky.  Available in my etsy shop.

Approx. 480 yds.  BFL and silk, lace weight (mostly).
Not available in my etsy shop because this one is headed to upstate New York.  In fact, it probably arrived there today, which is why I feel brave enough to post this photograph of it.

Keeping watch over the backyard and systematically destroying my aloe plant.  Please note the flea collars.  My indoor cats got fleas this summer.  Because I was in deep denial that this was possible, the fleas had time to establish a stronghold throughout our house and it took weeks to get rid of them.  Be warned!  Life has no guarantees!

Battle Pass Open Studio

Sasha making some final installation decisions.

A diorama (of sorts) of the Battle of Brooklyn made with matches, sand, and garbage by Sasha Chavchavadze and Eva Melas.

Cockade making supplies for my project, Be A Rebel Or Just Look Like One.

Coffe cup installation by Eva Melas.

Map and boat head piece by Paul Benney and Katie Smertz that was used in their performance on August 27th (the anniversary of the battle) at Smith and Bergen Streets in Brooklyn.

Some rebellious cockades.

This one, made by an artist in a neighboring studio, took my own rebellious message to heart but perhaps with a touch of self-interest?

I survey the battleground in my tri-corner hat.  Why do I look like I am just back from a yoga class?  Because it was so unbelievably hot and humid on Saturday!  People were barely able to concentrate on the art, let alone get psyched about making a rebellious cockade.  Yet, it was a fun day and we had a nice, steady stream of visitors, who were nearly all very excited by our project.  Some even said they would vote for us.  I am a little ashamed to admit that it gave me a thrill each time someone said that.

One Small Rebel Yell

This Saturday, I will be participating in the boro-wide open studio event in Brooklyn from 11 am to 7 pm.  I will be presenting my ongoing performance, Be A Rebel Or Just Look Like One as part of my collaboration with the project, Battle Pass.  Click here for all the details.  

My fellow collaborators include Sasha Chavchavadze, Eva Melas and Paul Benney.

The open studio event is both days on the weekend but I will only be presenting my piece in person on Saturday.  There will be a small installation of based on the performance on view on Sunday (and in the studio through the end of September). 

Please join us!

The studio is in the Gowanus section of Brooklyn and there are nine other artists participating in this building alone - there are over 1,000 participating in all.  While I am excited that there will be so much to see this weekend, and I am thrilled to be able to present my piece and work with the other artists, I do object to one aspect of this event, which was created by The Brooklyn Museum.

Their idea is to have visitors vote on their favourite studio and the artist(s) with the most votes will have their work presented at the Museum.  I hate this idea.  Please allow me to say it again: I hate this idea so very, very much.  It taps into the very worst of what the art world has to offer, pitting artist against artist in the most meaningless kind of competition.  And worse, the Museum is marketing it as being "community-driven".  Bullshit!  It is just another example of modeling art after cut-throat, "let the market decide" capitalism.  Our studio is ignoring the whole, vile voting business.  Hear that Brooklyn Museum?  Don't Vote!  And you can tell 'em I said so!

While I am on the subject, I also have come loathe this whole Kickstarter campaign thing.  If you have not heard of it, it is an online site where everyone and their Aunt Betty can raise funds for their creative project.  Beyond the fact that now artists are supposed to shill for money from their family and friends, it signals (to me) our collective end to any notion that art should be supported by the community through public funds.  Because, you know, art is business and artists should be more business-like.  

You know what? 

 F*ck that.

Of course in a country where we let people die before we would offer them access to healthcare, we close libraries because they are "too expensive" yet have limitless dollars to kill people, destroy resources and annihilate cultures in pointless, endless wars, in a country like this, telling artists to suck it up and raise your own damn money is really not surprising.  But why do the bad guys always get to win?  There is such a narrowness, a stinginess to the vision of who we might be as society....why can't the big, generous ideas take hold (again)?

But anyway.  

Come visit me in Brooklyn.  Make a cockade.  Be A Rebel...if only for a moment.

Wednesday

Poem
by Joe Brainard

Sometimes
everything
seems
so
oh, I don't know.

NY Art Book Fair

Coming soon!  The NY Art Book Fair at MoMA/PS1.  The fair is FREE and open to the public.  It runs Thursday night to Sunday evening, September 27-30. 

Public fair hours are as follows:

Thursday, September 27, 6–9 pm 

Friday, September 28, 12 pm–7 pm

Saturday, September 29, 11 am–9 pm 

Sunday, September 30, 11 am–7 pm

What makes it extra groovy is that I will be there helping out at the table of one of my all-time favourite organizations, Impractical Labor in Service of the Speculative Arts (ILSSA).  ILSSA's motto is "As many hours as it takes" and describes itself as a "membership organization for those who make experimental or conceptual work with obsolete technology".  

From their website:

Impractical Labor is a protest against contemporary industrial practices and values. Instead it favors independent workshop production by antiquated means and in relatively limited quantities. Economy of scale goes out the window, as does the myth that time must equal money. Impractical Labor seeks to restore the relationship between a maker and her tools; a maker and her time; a maker and what she makes. The process is the end, not the product. Impractical Labor is idealized labor: the labor of love.

It is run like a union with each individual being the sole member of their "local".  I am a proud member and I am extra proud to be helping out at the book fair.  I will be there with my spindle, just so you know.

And just so this isn't an image-free post, here is a picture I took on a recent trip to Hamilton, Ontario.  We were on a desperate search for sandals for Lucy before a wedding.  All we could find were these:

We declined.  But later, we did see a brave soul walking around town with a pair on.  More power to ya, lady!

More, More, More

Check it out!

Zabeth has done it again:  another gorgeous lace design for the current issue of Vogue Knitting.  Here is all the pertinent information:

Lace Scarf
Designer: Zabeth Loisel Weiner
For sizes: Approx 14 x 60"/35.5 x 152.5cm
Yarn Information: The YarnSisters, Inc./Zealana Pearl Yarn - Amounts: 1 hank in pearl

Vogue Knitting Fall 2012, photo by Paul Amato for LVARepresents.com

The Very Early 80s

Remember that time in your life when you would willingly wear a plastic bag on your head, all in the name of fashion?  Well, Birnam wood do come to Dunisnane.

Fear not, for while the early 1980s may have made an appearance in our household in the form of florescent hair colouring, I, myself, have made it to the 21st Century.  Or so I told myself when I became the owner of an iPod shuffle (in order to be able to listen to the chants that I need to memorize).  When I made this remark to Finnian, he scoffed.  

"More like 20th Century!"  

You can't win around here.  Maybe I should dye my hair pink?  Orange?

What's Next? Boiled Peanuts?

It must be those hazy, hot and humid days of summer - there have been so many of them.

The light is thick and golden and heavy.  Maybe it is like this in New Orleans all the time?

I miss the cool, blue light of Newfoundland.  I miss it so much that I actively try to not think about it.  Good thing I have so much training in putting my mind to be where I want it to be when I want it to be there.  My mind wants to be on a rock in the North Atlantic but somehow it got stuck in a William Faulkner novel.

Could such a plant seriously exist any place labelled "northerly"?

As I write this, the cicadas are singing their pervasive chorus.  Everything is green and lush in a way that seems, frankly, unnatural.  Next thing, I'll be talkin' right slow-like and voting Republican.

Amazing!

What happens when you bring six young men and six young women together for three weeks?  Not what you might think!  Sometimes something really amazing happens...

Ba Da Bing

Everyone is happy.  

Finn is in the northern woods and on the northern waters of Maine, paddling a 22 ft. long canoe that he made (along with 11 other skillful teenagers).  Lucy is camping in the Vermont woods with a group of young women who are, no doubt, as strong and clever as she.

What about Mom?  What does she do with that rarest of rare things:  time alone?  

It is called camping, Brooklyn-style.

This Machine Kills Fascists

Happy 100th Woody!

Into the Proper Hands

We have all done it: enthusiastically decided to take up some new skill or interest, eagerly purchased the necessary equipment, and then....quietly set it aside for a few days, months, years.  A friend was telling me that this describes her every attempt at taking up a fitness routine.

When I shop at thrift shops, I always have the feeling that stuff doesn't ever really belong to us.  It just shifts around until it finds its proper owner.

Yesterday, these two threads came together as I became the proper owner of a generous bag of spindles, niddy noddies and very high end fleece.  It was all originally purchased by a very enthusiastic would-be spinner.  She had signed up for the class.  She had purchased her materials.  And then.  Some time later, she gave it all to a friend (the talented Zabeth that I have been featuring regularly).  Zabeth may be a lace genius but she is not a spinner (yet - I am not finished with her yet).  So the bag of materials sat around Zabeth's house for a good long time.  And then.

Come home to mama!

I don't know the person who bought all this stuff but she has amazing taste!  She had a modest, beginner spindle - perfectly serviceable.  But look!  She also immediately bought a Kundert!  And a Turkish spindle.  And two sizes of niddy noddy.  Her fleece choices show excellent taste in sheen and softness but, perhaps, not such a good awareness of what is best suited for a beginner.  Baby alpaca, kid mohair, and 100% silk are not beginner fibres.  But, um, I like them.

A cat using a spindle!  Possibly the world's cutest photo ever.

Webster likes them too!  The best part of coming into this treasure trove was that I was immediately able to give away one of the spindles (not the Kundert - I am not a saint) and some fleece to someone who showed interest in learning to use them.  Ok, I might have told her that she needed to have this interest.  But I was not wrong.  And she has two children that I know she will teach.  And she teaches high school art so maybe she will bring that into her classes.

So you see, you never know the results of your one action.  Sign up for a class!  Buy materials!  The whole world is waiting!

A Match Made in Heaven

First, this:



Then, this:

Well over 500 yds of squishy Rambouillet yarn (hand painted fleece by Widdershins, of course!).  It started as lace weight and then it bloomed.  It bloomed like a teenage girl on her first date.  It bloomed like a lily at Easter.  It bloomed and blossomed and decided to be larger than lace weight.  But still beautiful.  And soft.  I think it is destined to fall into the capable hands of the above mentioned Zabeth (Loisel) Weiner.

Very Practical

Zen is “the biggest joke that has ever been played in the spiritual realm. But it is a practical joke, very practical.”  

Chogyam Trungpa

Brilliant!

Vogue Knitting Early Fall 2012, photo by Rose Callahan

My brilliant friend, knitwear designer, Zabeth Loisel Weiner, created this lace shawl for Vogue Knitting.  It is in the latest issue, Early Fall 2012.  Doesn't the mere name of the issue make you want to start knitting?  Please check it out!  You don't even have to be as brilliant as Zabeth because she did all the hard work of figuring out the pattern.  You only need to knit it.  


And, believe me, you do need to knit it.

For sizes: 50" wide
Yarn Information: Madelinetosh Prairie
Amounts: 1 hank in Mourning Dove

Teach What You Know (and What You Believe)

Two weeks ago, in teacher training, we studied with a terrific teacher, Fran Ubertini.  She is a great combination of high energy and straight talk, being born and raised in Brooklyn in a big Italian family.  Plus she knows her stuff and has been around long enough to have worked through exactly what yoga means to her (hint: it ain't just asana).

At the end of our weekend of training, she lead us through an agna laghava sequence, which I think means something like "lighting the flame" but please correct me if my Sanskrit is off.  In the Desikachar tradition, there is a lot of attention paid to how yoga moves prana (loosely translated as life force, energy, or sometimes even breath) and apana (waste, elimination).  Various asana create more prana or work to burn up apana.  It is all on a subtle plane and not something immediately tangible.  In agna laghava, we practiced the asana by doing a full inhalation and full exhalation and then, while holding on the exhalation, actually moving into or out of the posture.  I think that means we were using prana to burn up apana, if I understood it correctly.

Although it is simple in concept, it is not a practice for beginning students because it assumes that you have a rather large breath capacity and that you are generally fit enough that the series of postures you are doing are not challenging from a physical standpoint.  In other words: do not try this at home.  It is something to be done with the guidance of a teacher who knows you and your breathing patterns.  While Fran didn't know us very well, she figured that we were basically good to go as 500- and 700-hr teacher trainees.

We did some rounds of a very simple sun salutation and then some other standing postures - nothing fancy - but it was totally and completely transformative.  By the time we finished, my state of mind was still and clear and totally ready for meditation, which if you believe the Yoga Sutra, is the main purpose of asana.  The thing is, I had never really and truly believed that.  I believed that yogis did asana because they lived in the forest without access to healthcare and needed a way to stay healthy (a description of how asana practice came about that I once heard).  I believed that our bodies retain a memory of emotions and events deep in our muscles and that asana can help release them (why do I often want to cry when I deeply flex my right hip?).  And I believed that doing asana simply makes you feel good - because it does for me every day.  But as a preparation for meditation, I did not believe it because it never was for me.  I mean, everyday, I simply sit on my cushion to meditate.  Asana had nothing to do with it, and so this mysterious connection never felt like a connection.  Until it did.

When it did, it kind of rocked my world because it made all the criticisms of ashtanga that my teacher has been sharing with me (after twenty years of practicing ashtanga herself) seem valid.  Even as I have learned a lot about myself and my body through ashtanga, the fact remains that it is limited in terms of helping one to achieve the eighth limb of yoga: a state of samadhi.  I would go so far as to say that practicing whatever series you are working on will never bring you to that state.  And I think it is not a sustainable practice once you reach a certain age.  Although I know people in their sixties doing it, in a way, I feel a little sorry for them.  Do they still need that much asana?  Why?  This is an important question!

After confessing all, my teacher gave me a new daily home practice that is (surprise!) an agna laghava practice.  It isn't much asana and the main focus is the breath and concentration of mind.  It is surprisingly difficult!  But I really love it.  As for my dear ashtanga practice?  I have decided to call it my workout and I do it after yoga and meditation.

It is an awesome workout - you should see my biceps!

The Best of TImes, The Worst of Times

One of my sisters was here recently for a visit and high on her list of places to go was the 9/11 Memorial.  To be honest, I did not want to go.  It is hard to see this site as a tourist destination.  The original act of senseless violence and the subsequent wrong turns and bad ideas that it spawned leave me feeling less than thrilled about making it part of any itinerary.  But Sis wanted to go, so we ran the gauntlet, which is what happens to those who feel the need to visit the memorial before it is totally open to the street.  It will be someday when all the construction is completed but, for now, one must get a free visitor pass at a location several blocks away from the entrance.  This not-so-brief walk also allows the construction workers taking lunch to have a front row seat to view all the tourists heading to the site (it was ALL tourists - why do they want to see this?).  If you enjoy being inspected by many construction workers while they eat sandwiches, then I recommend this visit to you.

After the visual inspection by iron workers and other tradesmen, you go through a security check that makes an airport security check-in experience seem like a joyful welcome from your favourite grandmother.  So, if you enjoy being manhandled by people in light blue shirts who have been trained by some rogue nation's secret police, then I highly recommend this visit to you.

After some vigorous inspection and humiliation, then you walk through an endless roped off area - back and forth like some kind of surrealist movie sequence.  In fact, it was so bizarre and yet compelling that I was seriously regretting not bringing my video camera.  I was regretting it until I was accosted after taking this one photo in an attempt to capture the way people were moving through the space.  Apparently, no photographs were allowed here, although it is not at all clear why since photographs are okay at the actual site.  If you have ever wished to be a participant in a Kafka-esque bit of highly guarded choreography, then I recommend this visit to you.

It is much more interesting with the movement but I can not fathom what would befall
anyone who dared try to record it.

Battered in spirit if not in physical self, we persevered and entered the actual memorial site.  Amazingly, it is quite moving and cuts straight through whatever bitterness you feel by the time you enter the gates.  The other visitors were remarkably subdued and respectful.  In fact, I would go so far as to say that it is a very powerful experience.

I think it is a testament to the design that anyone was able to feel anything other than a sense of despair at what has happened to public access and our collective sense of paranoia since 9/11.  Indeed the disparity between the experience of getting into the memorial and the memorial itself is perhaps the perfect illustration of the state of the country today.  The very best and the very worst, side-by-side and completely interconnected.

Did I Show You This?

Over 400 yds of lace weight Shetland beauty spun from a fleece hand painted by Widdershin Woolworks.  Dear Ani (the genius behind Widdershin) nearly met her death after a visit to Israel - no it wasn't terrorism, it was a mosquito who gave her a West Nile like virus.  The handspinning world was on tenterhooks and we didn't even know it!  She is on the mend now, thank the spinning goddesses!

Anyway,  I don't care what anyone says, Shetland sheep are very cute, their wool spins up like nobody's business and the resulting yarn has a sturdy integrity that is unmatched, except perhaps by Icelandic wool.  Nah, I think Shetland is best.  

As Finn once said in response to my telling him that I thought I liked spinning *better* than knitting:

Oh no you dittn't.  (add your own sweeping, snapping gesture).

(No Impact Week - Day #5) Don't Be A Drip

The focus for the fifth (and for us, final) day of No Impact Week was water.  To be perfectly honest, I didn't make any changes in our water use during the week.  I felt that I had pushed Fin and Lucy to their limit with the other changes so I didn't insist on altering the way we consume water.  Others in the group that I was participating in this experiment with did much better.  One household cut their water use in half with very simple methods of catching grey water (the water used to wash and rinse dishes, for example) and using that water to flush the toilets.  Others shut off the shower after they had gotten wet, soaped up without the water running and then did a quick rinse off.

My one goal was to re-install a diverter from our downspout so that rain water will again collect in our rain barrel.  I didn't get that accomplished during the week, but I will.  No Impact Week doesn't actually have to end, you know.  Truthfully, most of it was pretty painless and actually improved our lives.  Is that really surprising?

No Impact Week ends with what Colin Beavan calls Eco Sabbath - a day when one gives back to the community.  For our group, we had a three options for a morning of service: work on a farm in Red Hook, work in a community garden or attend a tree stewardship workshop.  Lucy and I went to the tree workshop.

It was a straightforward session that gave us the basics about how to care for street trees.  The trees are owned by the city but do not really get much care once they are planted.  As you might imagine, city life is pretty hard on the trees and even a little care and make the difference between survival and firewood. New York City trees don't really end up as firewood; they end up as garbage and is there anything sadder than seeing a tree go in the garbage?  After getting our instructions, we went out as a group and took care of four street trees.  It was kind of shocking to notice just how uncared for most trees are in the city.  Suddenly, we saw dire circumstances everywhere!

Lucy was so inspired by our experience that she immediately signed up online to adopt the tree in front of our house and then went out and began to care for it in the way it needs - first by removing weeds, garbage and ivy around it.  Eventually we will plant some flowers and mulch around the tree pit, as it is called.  Truly, there is a huge need to care for the trees that add so much to city life.  The workshop took only a few hours and our efforts make a visible difference to our neighborhood.  Consider taking this on!  It isn't a big commitment but it is an important one.  Plus, we met all sorts of people walking by who were curious and happy about what we were up to.  A real community building effort.

After our labours on the street, the No Impact Week-ites gathered for a picnic of local, organic homemade food in Fort Greene Park.  Yum!

We were very happy about our nice lunch!  

And since it made such lovely pictures, here are some photographs of the pasta I made for the pasta/kale salad that was my contribution to the picnic.

  

It was a good day and a great week.

(No Impact Week - Day #4) Pump It Up

Yesterday's area of focus was energy use.  I was out and about, using up my own personal energy so I wasn't able to post anything.

As I mentioned earlier in the week, we have been using an oil lamp in the evenings instead of our electric lights.  The first night, everyone was pretty excited and we ended staying up late, talking and laughing.  Ahhh....just as I dreamed it would be: family bonding, heart-to-heart conversations and lots of intimate togetherness.

The next night, my friends from Germany stopped by for a visit and sat in the near-darkness with us.  It was fun but we all got sleepy rather quickly and they left not long after arriving.  Do we get more boring in the dark?  I wonder.

On Wednesday night, Fin and Lucy began to rebel.  A couple of nights is one thing but this was going on a little too long for the tastes of some.  Fin staged a strike - he refused to wash the supper dishes if the lights stayed off.  After a tense stand-off, the kitchen lights were turned on and dishwashing commenced as per usual.  Last night, a sense of resignation seemed to have settled in and, as the house grew darker, no one protested but no one seemed inclined to talk either.  Even I began to wish I could just go read a book in bed.  I am currently re-reading Kristen Lavransdatter and you know how that is.

Tonight will be our last night with the oil lamp.  I am thinking that perhaps we should try to have one night/month when we keep the lights off.  It could be just enough to keep us appreciative of the convenience and benefit of electric lights and to have that time of closeness that darkness brings forward.

The other thing we have been doing to reduce our energy use is to power up the laptop batteries in the morning and then unplug them.  If their charge runs out, then no more computer use that day.  I think it is a good system and one that I want to keep in force after this week is over.  It manages to save energy and give some boundaries to computer use all at the same time.

As part of this experiment, I also learned about solar powered chargers for cellphones and other devices.  They run around $30, which seems pretty reasonable.  I think they are smart idea given that charging up these devices sucks up power at a surprising rate.

Pump it up - you don't really need it.


ELVIS COSTELLO - PUMP IT UP by huntylch