Monoculture week: The big idea in two nutshells.

"I found myself reading Monoculture: How One Story is Changing Everything non-stop, with a pencil in hand, underlining like crazy. That totally took me by surprise, but then, I didn’t know I’d be reading an astute explanation about what I’ve been feeling recently, something I couldn’t put my finger on. It’s an uncomfortable sense of how everything seems to be monetized, from our work to our personal relationships to our education to our creativity to our charity work. A sense that nothing should be attempted unless its value can be measured and brings advantage.  A sense that we should be motivated by keeping up and constantly improving and optimizing ourselves, as if who we are and what we’re doing isn’t and never will be enough because there’s always something new to be achieved."

- Kassie Rose, NPR Ohio (full review here)

and

"Oooh, that's a beautiful bubble book!"

- Tiny Niece, age 3, while rubbing the cover over her cheek.  

Daily Bird 75: Out of the nest you go!

Or on making a book. 

There's a lot of talk about the future of publishing these days. About the nature of a book. About its form and its value in an increasingly digital environment. It's quite the jungle gym out there.

As is our Hedgie nature, we think books can be winged things that carry stories and ideas to friends known and unknown. That's the nature of most things that are created to be shared - along the way they create conversations and communities. 

A good book is a difficult thing to make. A good smart book filled with big ideas? And then produced and distributed independently? Well that is both difficult and a wondrous thing among us. And something I want to help out of the nest.

One of our own little Hedgies, F.S. Michaels,  has produced a good smart independent book called Monoculture: How One Story is Changing Everything.

Here's the gist: 

As human beings, we’ve always told stories: stories about who we are, where we come from, and where we’re going. Now imagine that one of those stories is taking over the others, narrowing our diversity and creating a monoculture. Because of the rise of the economic story, six areas of your world — your work, your relationships with others and the environment, your community, your physical and spiritual health, your education, and your creativity — are changing, or have already changed, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. And because how you think shapes how you act, the monoculture isn’t just changing your mind — it’s changing your life.

In Monoculture, F.S. Michaels draws on extensive research and makes surprising connections among disciplines to take a big-picture look at how one story is changing everything. Her research and writing have been supported by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada, the Killam Trusts, and regional and municipal arts councils. Michaels has an MBA, and lives and writes in British Columbia. 

I had the opportunity to help a little in getting this book on its way. I am an unabashed fan of the writer and a wannabe builder of the conversations that will take place around these big ideas. In the meantime, during Monoculture week at the Hedge, we're going to give this winged thing a little push out of the nest. Y'all come back now...

Our Daily Bird 73: Let's play sandwich

I've been doing some research on arts and the "free" market and it reminds me of this Tweety Bird bit. "I don't like that game."

Oliver Schroer: A Million Stars

Oliver Schroer, A Million Stars from Dwayne Beaver on Vimeo.

Dwayne Beaver: "This is a valentine to my friend and collaborator Oliver Schroer who passed away in 2008."

OliverSchroer.com

Daily Bird: 71: Birds on a wire

Birds on the Wires from Jarbas Agnelli on Vimeo.:

"Reading a newspaper, I saw a picture of birds on the electric wires. I cut out the photo and decided to make a song, using the exact location of the birds as notes (no Photoshop edit). I knew it wasn't the most original idea in the universe. I was just curious to hear what melody the birds were creating."

Daily Bird: 70: The littlest birds

Tiny Niece was humming along to this the other day. It's good for an early morning humming or a little tapping on the desk while you face your Monday morning.

We must plant this garden.

Photo: Robert Rock Belliveau: Tomato seed taken with a polarizing microscope

"We find a useful parable in one of the farm journals, whither we turned, hoping to escape for a few moments the ominous headlines of suspicion in the papers. It was a vain hope. The first headline we encountered was 'Danger in the Flower Garden.' There is enough poison in a single castor bean to kill a person. The seeds of pinks cause vomiting. Sweet-pea seeds contain a poison that can keep a person bedridden for months. The nightblooming jimson has enough power it its leaves to produce delirium. Daffodil bulbs when eaten cause stomach cramps. And in the lily of the valley is a subtle substance that makes the heart slow down. But the conclusion drawn by the writer of the article, chewing absently on a daffodil bulb, was a good one.

We must plant this garden anyway. Even in the face of such terrors, we must plant this garden."
                                                                                                                                                                                      E.B. White 4/24/54 The New Yorker

*quote via @planthisgarden

Daily Bird: 69: Heart like a singing bird

Christina Rossetti said her heart was like a singing bird. My heart has a little of this guy...

via pinterest

Daily Bird: 68: Steve Martin and Jubilation Day

A little banjo for your first day of summer?

Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers, "Jubilation Day" from Moving Colour on Vimeo.

Our Daily Bird 67: Shawn Smith sculptures

"Everett " (2008)
Bass wood, ink, acrylic paint, gauche, found branch
18 x 24 x 11 inches
Shawn Smith Art 

"Anvil" (2011)
Wood, ink, acrylic paint
28 x 36 x 13 inches 
Shawn Smith Art  

"Peafile" (2006)
Plywood, Ink, Acrylic Paint
47 x 74 x 25 inches
Shawn Smith Art 

(via sweetjuniper)

Tip of the hat to a late spring...

And my old prairie Hedge Society from a late spring years ago:

I am a lifelong Canadian and still I do not learn. Around mid-February I begin to notice the band of light on the horizon at 7:15 in the morning. Soon eight hours of winter light will turn into eight and a half hours and then nine and then ten hours of glorious daylight. The other night, I noticed the sky was actually a beautiful deepening teal blue at 7 pm rather than a navy black. I wear a t-shirt instead of a sweater inside the house as a defiant gesture to the retreating winter.

March. The very name evokes thoughts of green grass and warming breezes. When will the tulips I planted in September begin to show? When can I put the snow shovel away? But March in Canada loves to fool you. A few years ago, we received 40 cm of snow in mid-March. The temperatures are still below zero one day before Spring arrives. The t-shirt takes its place back on the shelf and I return to checking weather reports in between trying to unfreeze the front gate and wrapping myself in blankets while sitting at the computer.

My mom is visiting and we take a quick trip to the gardening store. It is quiet and empty with just a few hopeful souls breathing in the pictures on the seed packages. The vivid reds of early girl tomatoes, the purples of lobelia, the oranges of tiger lilies and pastels of sweet peas swirl before us like an impressionist painting. When I drive home, heater on high, mittens gripping the frozen steering wheel, I turn down a back alley near the house. We crack open the frosted windows ever so slightly so we can hear the tiny birds that are hiding in the skeletons of lilac bushes. They sing and sing wearing down the fraying ends of winter, coaxing the warmth of spring to appear. 

Tragedy: Wheel inside a Wheel

In the face of horrific events, I tend to go quiet. I watch along with the rest of the world but I don't feel that I have much to add. Online life does not do well with quiet. We're supposed to always be looking for ten-ways-to-shout-louder-than-others-here or find-success-like-dooce there. I tend to step back. Tweet a few things that informed me. Like how a nuclear reactor works. I had no idea.

I wait for the regular tragedy cycle. Shock and awe. Commentary. Stupidity - that US network that chose to add frantic drumming over video of the tsunami because the footage wasn't dramatic enough for them. The religious chatterers of all stripes who think they have the direct line to shifting rock and the voice of gods. The need to know so we can feel some sort of control over those gods. And men. And atoms. All while living on a planet that shakes itself silly while spinning through space.

It's been a while since I've thought of the voice of God in the midst of a tragedy but I was thinking of all this a few years ago when the combination of human imperfection and natural forces heaved themselves onto the shores of southern States. As I walked through my quiet neighborhood, I could hear Mary Gauthier's voice. She wrote a song, Wheel Inside The Wheel,  about a funeral in New Orleans. I saw her at a folk festival - too early in the morning and in the pouring rain. As the audience took shelter as best we could - hats, rain ponchos made from hastily torn garbage bags, Mary said "You're impressing the hell outta me." We shouted our encouragement, our breath showing in the morning air and then rolling upwards with the collected cigarette smoke and coffee fumes into the falling rain.

She told us she wanted to write a song for a friend, a songwriting friend, that had died. She felt unworthy to write a song for someone who had such incredible skill so she asked God, "Lord, what should I do?" And God said, "Go to New Orleans! Go to New Orleans! Go to New Orleans!"  And Mary said, "Shit God. Don't speak to me directly. You're scarin' me."

Those are the words I heard step after step on my clean and dry sidewalks...New Orleans, New Orleans, New Orleans. And now on currently not-so terra firma, my keyboard and all of us chattering away trying to avoid the tremors beneath our feet. Shit God. Don't speak to me directly. You're scarin' me.

Mom's Gonna Snap

I bought this shirt for Wendy a couple of weeks ago after seeing it mentioned on Twitter.  Shipping was expensive ($15 to Canada) but she loves it.  According to the site, Super-soft organic cotton, relaxed fit tee with a slightly longer body than most t-shirts.  It had me at the double entendre.

Our Daily Bird 65: Stained Glass Sparrow

Image via Daily Mail

If you are looking for bird images in stained glass church windows, you will usually find a white dove bearing the weight of religious imagery from ancient stories. I like the bird in this stained glass - a white-crowned sparrow that finds itself memorialized in the window of a 13th century church in Norfolk, England. It drew a crowd when it landed in the vicar's garden having completed a 3,000 mile journey across the Atlantic to become only one of four white-crowned sparrows to ever be spotted in Great Britain.

The crowds took up a collection to have this memorial made and it inspires me more than many a dove. I like the idea of remembering something that pleasantly surprised you simply because it was out of place, hung around a while, and then flew away again. Here's to all those who get lost and decide to keep flying.

Good Morning Coffee

I only started drinking coffee a few years ago. I don't know why I made it  through college, living in Europe, and travelling through some great third wave coffee cities before succumbing to the power of the bean but there it is. After initial forays into over roasted, over logoed, and over priced espresso shots, I started to learn about kinds of beans and the importance of things like proper temperature, good water, and the appearance of a good shot.

A friend - yes a dear friend - gave me a Rancilio Silvia, one of the best home espresso machines available to all of mankind! I could be overstating it but the Silvia does invite devotion like this from its many followers:

Those were the caffeine-filled days in a busy little house on the prairie with lattes for all! It was fun having such a precise morning ritual filled with obsessive espresso shot judgements: "Oh I think that's a good one!" or "Oh no, not quite. We'll try again."

Times change. And with a move, less coffee and a busier life with fewer visitors, I gave the Rancilio back to the dear friend and moved to a minimalist set up. Rather than hunt and peck for a good coffee press amidst a sea of presses, I deferred to the Coffee Crew and ordered their recommendations from Espressotech.com in Vancouver - an Espro stainless steel press with microfilter and a portable Hario hand grinder.

 

 

This combination works well and can be easily packed for trips. In fact, I first tried it in Tofino where it saved me from hotel-brown-grains-of-mysterious-origin-in-sealed-package. Now with some good beans from 2% Jazz, I'm all set for a paired down approach to morning coffee. I miss my Silvia operatic experience but simplicity is good too.

Friday morning poem: Growing is forever

Growing is Forever from Jesse Rosten on Vimeo.

Our Daily Bird 63: Kiwi

Our Daily Bird 62: Julia Hepburn

Toronto artist Julia Hepburn:

In my work, I attempt to reclaim the innocence and curiosity of childhood.

Each compartmentalized piece displays a single scene with virtually no context. Viewers are encouraged to use their imaginations in order to develop a narrative explaining the scene.

I Wish I Was a Stallion

Death of Red Hen

He Was a Good Friend

More Julia Heburn here.

Shameless Idealists: "Get out of my way."

Our little gathering of the Hedge Society is meant to provide some hope to each other in our working and creating lives. It is also meant to pass on some of that hope, meagre and confused as it is from time to time, to our readers.

We often think of idealists as people whose eyes are so blinded by the silver flashing in all the linings that they have no concept of any realities. But as you look to those working on the everyday and the ordinary of bringing hope to dark places, you often see lives inspired by not just the recognition but the embrace of the suffering that comes their way.

Shameless Idealists is a 7 part television series hosted by Craig Kielburger, the founder of Free the Children. Throughout the series, interviewees are asked about giving up, about facing fear, and about being intimidated. Often their answer starts with "I could have..." and ends with "I just decided...". Listen for hope as a decision.

One of my favorite interviews is with Betty Williams. She and I may be far apart in background and approach but it doesn't matter. I love the strength. I love the sense of humor (which seems to be a common chararacteristic of many activists). I love the "up yours" to apathy.

Craig Kielburger: "You took on one of the most intractable conflicts in human history. People must have looked on and said, 'Your actions are futile. You can never bring peace to the Middle East.'What did you say to them?"

Betty Williams: "Get out of my way."

Domestic Landscapes: Bert Teunissen

I recently came across the work of Dutch photographer Bert Teunissen and his project Domestic Landscapes. I have been tiring lately of Martha Stewart-esque domestic photos, perfectly lit showing teal mugs of coffee composed next to a piece of toast and a pot of jam that just so happens to come from the perfectly matching complimentary side of the color wheel. Teunissen's photographs have been a welcome antidote. The images come from across Europe and Japan. I needed time with these photos - they provided an opportunity to think about many of the thing Teunissen mentions on his web site: 

For the last thirteen years I have been working on a photography project called Domestic Landscapes. This project is about light - natural daylight. The photos show how daylight illuminates the domestic interior, and how it dictated the way the interior was build, used and decorated. This specific light and the atmosphere it creates have their origins in the architecture of the pre-electricity era, when daylight was the main source of light. This kind of light started to disappear from European homes after World War II when the old way of building was abandoned. At this moment few of these homes remain.

Domestic Landscapes is also about identity and diversity. Every country, every region has its own distinctive culture that can be recognized in its homes, customs, cuisine and traditions.

The inhabitants of the houses where I take photographs still know how something ought to taste and how it should be made; they understand the importance of time and ripening, and the value of daily and seasonal repetition. I found that when local traditions disappear, most of their visible aspects are also lost. When a small farmer stops slaughtering, the open fireplace becomes redundant. Sausages and hams will be dried artificially and smoked in a factory losing their original flavour and appearance. And when a small farmer stops farming, the stables are converted into storage or living spaces, the stable doors are replaced by windows, the cement floor by parquet, the hayloft is altered into bedrooms, the kitchen is moved to the former parlour, and slowly all rooms and spaces will have lost their original meaning and significance.

France

Romania

Spain

Bosnia i Hercegovina

Many more images at Bert Teunissen's website.