self-order in a new place

December 5th, 2014 § 0 comments § permalink

I used to live in a town where I could walk out my door and step right into a protest on environmental, social or economic injustice any day of the week. Granted, we were just being led into NYPD corrals and getting our bikes confiscated, but I could move my feet and see others moving theirs.  Now, I live in the coastal south – the Lowcountry.  There is currently a deep divide between my online community (in uproar), and my face-to-face community, where I am largely segregated and unfamiliar. I don’t know what to say or not say. I don’t have access to Discourse or guidance on “allyship”. In this sense I am feeling alone.

Its not right, what’s happening. Its not enough to summarize #Ferguson, this is a mandate to burn the myth of “post-racial America”.  My guru Chris Rock says racism is a disease, and, “you’ve got to get it at a lab, and study it, and see its origins, and see what it’s immune to and what breaks it down.” Its plain that its not going to get better without more pain. I don’t know what I can do, and am keenly aware of the privilege implied in seeking involvement in the movement.

I am not a cop, I do not have black children, I am not institutionally oppressed. Well, there is that pesky equal pay for equal work thing…Nonetheless, I am on a side. And everyone is taking sides on Facebook. I took a “check your privilege” quiz there, and it told me I am not at the top of the stack.  If this sounds flip, its because it is. My experience right now is through a screen and so much remains undigested.

I am compelled to support the meek, whom I wish would inherent the earth already.  Selfishly, my seed saving and composting skills will finally come in handy. I want to heal myself and support the many people I have met who feel discarded and damaged. I want to bear witness to change, and find those opportunities to hasten it. I don’t see a place for me otherwise.

Tonight I saw a Congressman from my new home state perform a rather powerful bit of spoken word in one of those hallowed halls of government that he only gained access to within the last century. This guy is making moves.

I am exhausted where I should be energized. Overwhelmed without a clear step forward that I am capable of taking.  I imagine so much for my lifetime that I will most likely never affect. For today I think the best I can do is write this here, and not on Facebook, and hope that someone in realtime, in the place I live now, will feel a kinship and want to talk. In person.  Maybe tomorrow I can do more.

ground forces

November 4th, 2014 § 1 comment § permalink

Here the soil is sand. You scratch down a bit in most places and it’s a bright white sand. I have seen only a few worms so far, where the leaves mound up around a debris clot and spark an organic anomaly. For the first time in a long time, I now have access to some soil, sandy or not, for a stretch of time. It’s a wild, fenced lot, with a spooky shed and many shade trees dropping a bounty of dead wood, leaves, epiphytes and spanish moss.

IMAG0396

open

We went out and mowed a path for walking, plus we spun a bunch of downed branches into a nest. So far the ratio of food waste from our kitchen and the heaps of moss and leaves that fall down/blow into the yard balance out nicely and the nest is populating with beneficial organisms.

IMAG0397

closed

I have it somewhat booby trapped against charismatic macro fauna like r/cats and raccoons. I placed a ring of pokey vines and a cap of clattering palmetto branches to momentarily deter any such curious types, but the real defense is in the core recipe. I am optimistic that with proper feeding protocol, I should be able to (re)summon my wormy hoard in no time.

IMAG0398_BURST002_COVER

locked

will we ever get married (for real)?

October 29th, 2014 § 0 comments § permalink

Me and Fabio got married this August in the thick of the swamp heat. We sealed the deal in Woodbine, GA by the power vested in Judge Sweat (no relation to Keith, sadly) at the small county courthouse just a stone’s throw from the Satilla River. We had three dear friends as witnesses: Debbie, Antonello and Ilaria.

I pitched my bouquet down the courthouse steps to lovely Debbie. Interesting, since it was her own Mama who did up that bouquet as well as Fabio’s boutonnière for the big day. The precise timing of the nuptials was inspired by the arrival of the Italian newlyweds Antonello and Ilaria, who were travelling the US East Coast on their own honeymoon. Rarely does Fabio receive guests in coastal Georgia, let alone friends from kindergarten. It was a sign.

We went to a thrift store the day before and allowed ourselves an unlimited budget for our wedding digs. That was an amusing shopping trip, and we selected a woodsy green and brown palette, ultimately appropriate for rural Camden county. I imagined myself a hip diner waitress and he a lumberjack in his Sunday best.

P1030318

I myself was excited to speak my vows, and to see sweet Fabio get through his too. “Cherish” was a stumbling block, but I pointed out it was a very important part, and so he spiffed up his pronunciation on a second try.

Afterwards, we retired to Captain Stan’s for a reception brunch of ribs, butter beans and coleslaw. Then on to Okefenokee for a proper promenade, and back to Brunswick for cake.

at_capt_stans

at_capt_stans2

Admittedly, it was a big decision, yet we tried to play it down since neither of our families were going to be there. Far-flung ourselves, with even just our nuclear families peppered over two hemispheres of the Earth, a simple wedding is improbable. So “it’s just paperwork” was our constant refrain, and we soothed both our Mamas that the family party that will eventually come will be the Real Wedding. Nonetheless, we were pleased at how our day was adorned with gestures from our new friends here, and we know our families are grateful that we had a cheering section in their absence. We are grateful for both the understanding and the effort.

The morning of, we each traveled separately and had time to make a few calls. So by strict definition, we didn’t have a secret wedding, per se. But it did take several weeks to get in personal contact with enough of an inner circle to feel like it was real. I will admit to dragging it out a bit, because… how often are you secretly married?

at_okefenokee

But now we are coming out as married. Now our rolling stones officially roll along together, yet we still have to figure out how to make it official for our dispersed circle of friends and family. How do you have a Real Wedding when so many of the people you love are righteously bound to their own realities? How dare we summon you all with babes in arms and home fires burning, to some remote location at extreme expense? It might be simple for some, but it will most definitely be out-of-the-way for most.

According to Wikipedia, “in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, teleportation is generally frowned upon”, but I am beginning to doubt this sacred text. It seems that building a wormhole is the quickest way through to seeing our friends and families at one table, smiling at us in person.

« Older Entries

Newer Entries »