26 November 2011

keep it festive

  happenstance mapping                                    emotional resonance
  end of November                                           tank-top temperatures
  I feel like talking                                                   about the weather
  is as important                                                                as anything










"Ever wake up in the morning and think, I'm going to the fashion show today?"
"Only every day of my life."

18 November 2011

here's a poem


LOOK AROUND
YOU ARE A PART
OF A GLOBAL UPRISING
WE ARE A CRY
FROM THE HEART
OF THE WORLD
WE ARE UNSTOPPABLE
ANOTHER WORLD IS POSSIBLE

08 November 2011

good things come in bowls

 

 

Heat wave of Indian summer replaced by a post-Halloween cold snap. Lots of occasions for oatmeal in all its seasonal incarnations.

From top: oats with persimmon, dried cranberries and pumpkin seeds; oats with goldren raisins, pepitas and shredded coconut; (dessert) oats with cocoa, rice milk and honey.

06 November 2011

we don't want jobs we want to live

"It's not just hippies, hipsters & homeless," a minister in the Occupy Oakland camp said to me on the night of the general strike this past Wednesday. And no doubt it's true. Every time I've been down to the Occupation, I've met people from all walks of life, from lawyers to activists to teachers to florists. On Wednesday, we all marched together in solidarity with the 99% in a mass day of action that included the first general strike since 1946 and all-day rallies in the city center.

November 2, 2011 was one of the single most beautiful days of my life. It was like a major national holiday with marches and speeches instead of parades and potlucks, but no less jubilation. I spent the day drifting among friends, meeting people, exchanging information, giving quarters to strangers - who were of course not strange at all but friendly and grateful - and accepting snacks and water from others, collecting literature (the Occupied Oakland Tribune and Oscar Grant Plaza Gazette, to name two) and feeling the mass charge of energy that accumulated in moments around the drumline marching to and through the port as we shut it down in an eerie quiet marked by minimal police presence.

I was surprised by how little noise there could be in the depths of a crowd of twenty thousand, but I think the quiet of the march to stop the flow of capital is a testimony to the power of collective assembly as well as the ecstasy of being one molecule in a mass all tuned in to the same thing and listening.










I'm frustrated that almost all of the mainstream press has focused on the vandalism against capitalism as enacted on Bank of America and Whole Foods and on the violence that ensued after a faction of occupiers took over a building to turn into a library/dormitory (which of course there was a swift and violent police response to) when 99% of the day was a totally peaceful exhibit of true community.

Now, nearly a week later, the things resonating with me most are 1. the amazing power of claiming and using public space for common good and 2. a collective sense of belonging, sharing and mutual care. The effects of collective action are not isolated. More than ever before, I am signing petitions, talking to people, supporting my local artists and small businesses, and finally I have re-registered to vote. For the first time in my life, I feel like an engaged citizen, like I belong to something.