just wondering about the toast, no pressure....

“You gonna eat that?
You gonna eat that?
You gonna eat that?
I’ll eat that!”
– Karen Shepard’s dog, Birch, from Unleashed: Poems by Writer’s Dogs
(poem thanks to Rev Roger Paine)

radio dreams

Eliza has a radio show!
Eliza McLean O'Neil and her friend, Maddie McLean
are cohosts on the Bates College Radio station.
Fridays 8am-10am Eastern Standard Time.
It can be heard live all over the world.
To access:
Go to your computer and type in:
www.wrbcradio.com
press "listen"
for audio stream.

Don't miss it next Friday, February 6th!!
Inquiring minds want to know:
What will next week's theme be?

distant memories

Freezing weather day after day and an icy landscape have made me crave the warmth and color of summer days.
These helped a bit. Happy Winter Everyone!

forward in that light

What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital, filial, national,
love that casts a widening pool of light,
love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air,
any thing can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp,

praise song for walking forward in that light.

praise for every hand lettered sign

January 20, 2009
Inaugural Poem

“Praise Song for the Day,”
written and recited by Elizabeth Alexander

Each day we go about our business,
walking past each other, catching each other’s
eyes or not, about to speak or speaking.

All about us is noise. All about us is
noise and bramble, thorn and din, each
one of our ancestors on our tongues.

Someone is stitching up a hem, darning
a hole in a uniform, patching a tire,
repairing the things in need of repair.

Someone is trying to make music somewhere,
with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum,
with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.
A farmer considers the changing sky.
A teacher says, Take out your pencils. Begin.

We encounter each other in words, words
spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed,
words to consider, reconsider.

We cross dirt roads and highways that mark
the will of some one and then others, who said
I need to see what’s on the other side.

I know there’s something better down the road.
We need to find a place where we are safe.
We walk into that which we cannot yet see.

Say it plain: that many have died for this day.
Sing the names of the dead who brought us here,
who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges,

picked the cotton and the lettuce, built
brick by brick the glittering edifices
they would then keep clean and work inside of.

Praise song for struggle, praise song for the day.
Praise song for every hand-lettered sign,
the figuring-it-out at kitchen tables.

Some live by love thy neighbor as thyself,
others by first do no harm or take no more
than you need. What if the mightiest word is love?

Love beyond marital, filial, national,
love that casts a widening pool of light,
love with no need to pre-empt grievance.

In today’s sharp sparkle, this winter air,
any thing can be made, any sentence begun.
On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp,

praise song for walking forward in that light.


Sunrise in Ashland, Oregon on January 20, Inauguration Day.

small steps

Today's New York Times featured the above photo. The main story is about the Middle East but my blog audience will know why this photo makes me happy (see Jan 6 post, "thirst"). No plastic throw aways on the conference table! Glasses of clear tap water sitting on coasters. Small acts of sustainability add up and indicate a larger intention to work to reverse climate change.

Yesterday's New York Times headline was, "Obama's Order Likely To Tighten Auto Standards, signaling policy shift." The article went on: "(Obama) will also order federal departments and agencies to find ways to save energy and be more environmentally friendly. And he will highlight the elements in his economic plan intended to create jobs around renewable energy"

The oil man is gone. We have waited a long time for this.

oregon!

After Colorado, I flew to Ashland, Oregon to visit Ruth and Jim and Gretchen and the dogs Henry and Bleu. I didn't take many pictures since Rue and I were mostly in yoga class or art class with Denise Kester. We made paste paper, monoprints and bound books. The perfect antidote to a grey January; color!

rodeo!

Denver, Colorado January 2009
Rodeo! Bucking Broncos, barrel racing, calf lassoing and yes, monkeys riding on the backs of border collies as they herded sheep.
I had a great visit with Donny and Susie and Jessie and their dog Teddy in Boulder, Colorado!

Leaving Lincoln for a little while

Calley and I took our last romp in the fields this afternoon. The cold weather (ten degrees Fahrenheit) and low angle of the sun created beautiful shadows. I'm heading west to Colorado and Oregon tomorrow to visit family. Stay tuned for views of the American West!

before and after

We had two cords of wood delivered between snow storms last week. Luckily Eliza and Brodie were here to help stack wood on the porches of barn and house. Many hands make light work. We took note that our Maine cousins had the foresight to order wood by Thanksgiving and did the stacking then, in a snow free environment. Next year, we'll try to do the same. But it was a blast tossing those cold, frozen logs from one person to the next and pulling the Vermont cart filled with wood over the snow...a breeze! Then into the house to sit by the fire for a game of Scrabble. Stacking wood warms you twice.

Intuition

Since intuition operates lower down than the frontal lobe, it is not easy to talk about how it works. In general, I tend not to pay much attention to it until I have completed all of my research, compiled my lists of pros and cons, and made a rational decision based on facts. Then, when I cannot sleep because the rational decision seems all wrong to me, I start paying attention to the gyroscope of my intuition, which operates below the radar of my reason. I pay attention to recurring dreams and interesting coincidences. I let my feelings off the leash and follow them around. When something moves in my peripheral vision, I leave the path to investigate, since it would be a shame to walk right by a burning bush. At this point, reason is all but useless to me. All that remains is trust. Will I trust my intuition or won’t I? The more I do, the more intuitive I become.

from Leaving Church
Barbara Brown Taylor

thirst

What marketing genius it was! To convince consumers that they needed to drink bottled water to be safe and yes, hip.
Bottled water costs more than Coca Cola and gas. Yet, until recently, everyone had one; a plastic bottle of water. In the car, at a meeting, at the gym, in the backpack, even at the office just feet away from the water cooler and more importantly...the faucet. The water in this country is in most cases, the best in the world. Tap water is better regulated than bottled water and a lot of bottled water is...tap water. We drink water flown all the way from Fiji, or Italy or France. Talk about carbon footprint! The life of that bottle? How fast does it take you to polish off its contents? The plastic bottle came all that way to be tossed away in a matter of minutes.

Most water bottles are made of plastic that cannot be recycled. #1 and #2 have high-end recycling markets. #3 -#7 do not. Anyway, most end up in the trash and then on our beaches, in our oceans and waterways. They will be here long after we are gone. I'm sorry, next generation, that my few gulps of water are one of the causes of your polluted world.

I went to a meeting tonight and was generously offered a bottle of water. I didn't want to make a scene so I didn't say anything at that point and I certainly didn't accept, even though I was kind of thirsty. Next month I will go early and fill a pitcher and bring glasses from the kitchen and put them on the table. Maybe I will email the chair of the committee and respectfully tell her my thoughts on this issue. I don't want to alienate, but I've also reached my limit on this one.

When I was in Florence, Italy a few years ago, I bought lunch from a walk up sandwich stall. I ordered water to drink and much to my surprise, was given a glass filled with water along with my sandwich. I walked across the piazza, sat on the steps of the Duomo, ate my sandwich, drank my water and then returned the glass to the sandwich place. So civilized. But that is Italy. You would never see someone walking with a paper cup full of coffee either. But that is another subject.

Thanks for reading my rant on bottled water. There is a growing drumbeat on this issue. I wonder if the Obama White House will do away with the throw away option in their highly visible meetings. People notice these things. Change is in the air. We can always hope.

More on Lincoln Center (MA)

In response to my last post, I got a request for more information. Since I introduced the visuals, I decided to add a short explanation of the project as it is presented on the website of O'Neil Pennoyer Architects.



Lincoln Post Office and Cafe, Lincoln, MA
This Office was retained to design a new post office for Lincoln's small commercial area that would meet the goals voiced in a town-wide planning effort for a small pedestrian-based village center. To reflect the high value and intentionally limited-growth potential of the land, the plan incorporates some second floor office space and a cafe, to shape a small green facing south across Lincoln Road. A one story open arcade brings life to the edge of the green, and makes a connection to the parking lot hidden behind the building. A loading dock and service area for mail trucks is located between the post office and the railroad tracks.


The project has also included a renovation and expansion of the grocery store, gallery and other commercial spaces which are housed in an existing building on the right in the above photo. Many people have generously commented on how the town center is transformed by this project.

On one of the first days that the new building was open, I went to the post office. It was a great feeling to enter the space, move along the walkway and casually pull open the door (a real door; not a drawing of a door!) to go in. It was like being one of those tiny figures that are placed on architectural models to indicate scale. I have been following the evolution of this project for years! As I stood in line, I listened to the glowing comments of the people around me (no one knew of my connection, I learned long ago that most people do not notice who the architect is).
As I bought my stamps, I casually asked the person behind the counter, "how is this space working out for you?" The response was positive to say the least. A happy postal worker? Now that's success.

What David has been doing

Our town center has a new look.
www.oparchitects.com

the inner climate (and I quote...)

Our outer environment can only begin to be healed by our inner, and I'm not sure we can ever truly tend to our polluted waters, our shrinking forests, the madness we've loosed on the air until we begin to try to clean up the inner waters, and attend to the embattled wild spaces within us.

Action without reflection is what got us into this mess in the first place, and the only answer is not action, but, first, clearer reflection. A peace treaty signed by men who are still territorial, jealous or unquiet-Jerusalem tells me this- is not going to reach any real peace at all. A commitment to the environment based on what is outside of us forgets that the source of our problems-and solutions-is invisible, and that "nature" is a word we apply to what's within as well as without.

I turn off lights and make tiny gestures that, if more of us do them more often, can make a tiny difference. But mostly I try to think about how setting the thermostat within can finally be the best constribution that any nonspecialist can make.

Take care of the roots and the flowers will take care of themselves.

-Piko Iyers
Pico Iyers lastest book is The Open Road on globalism and the Dalai Lama. (Knopf)
The above quote is from Orion magazine, which is always an inspiration to me.
www.orionmagazine.org

If you are still wondering if we've got a problem on our hands, check out
OVER: the American Landscape at the Tipping Point by our friend and neighbor, Alex MacLean.

ring in the new