All else aside, it seems that my personal darkness is going to be left in the dark for now. That weekend that I was interrupted writing about when my housewarming began (now there's an awkward sentence; how would you phrase it?) once again would like to be tabled in favour of writing about
dark_sphere and Brendan and permaculture and how it makes me feel.
I do want to get it down for the record, though, that I went to Andrew's place to finish drinking, threw up a bunch, cried some, had my hair held occasionally by the Writer, didn't get hung over the next day and felt cheated by that, didn't die, and wanted the world to end.
Now on to business: permaculture (which may well be what set the whole bad thing off anyhow).
First off let's get the emo song lyrics out of the way. Let the music run:
( Read more... )So here's the deal. I really, honest to every God there is or isn't, believe that the world is gone to hell in a handbasket. Like any ending, this is also some sort of a beginning, but I don't know what it's the beginning of. No one does for sure.
I went to the SOUL chickens meeting (Society for Organic Urban Landcare, the group which created the organic standard for Vancouver & area, in this case they hosted an info night on urban chickens) with a friend who's just moved here from Ireland. Whether it's that things are different there or whether it's just who he is or whether it's a mixture of both, we share some sensibilities and sensitivities towards the environment and the world. We chatted a bunch, and I felt once again just how nice it is to talk about these things with someone who gives a damn. The people I've been hanging out with are a welcome distraction because when you're clueless or deliberately obtuse you cannot also be properly cynical about something, but this worldview is where I live and it doesn't enter into that space. This was a bit of a return to that, and a reaffirmation of what I want to do, like doing, and am good at: creating good living systems to sustain people, especially food systems. Problem is, the way the world works now and maybe always, those things have no value. Furthermore, the current system is so deeply flawed that all one can really do is help people learn to grow tomatoes and other nickel-and-dime solutions so small and far-removed from any solution that they're more little pieces of toilet paper like you stick on a razor nick than they are even band-aids.
And meanwhile our body is dropping limbs.
I ran into Brendan today on the skytrain. I ran into him at the Paulocaust too, and it was welcome. For awhile he was the person who acted like a jerk in the social circle I knew through Bob (you know how someone always takes that role?) and I didn't like him (because, again, it's not something I value) but after awhile it turned out that he was in urban planning and knows his stuff. Now he's working for a design company planning towns and we have some stuff we can talk about, and a lot of knowledge to impart to each other. There's a tentative plan to go walking or biking around the Olympic Village and discuss their landscaping choices, for instance, and he's going to get back to me on who designed Burrard Station.
At one point in our conversation on the skytrain he said, "I don't need to pretend I'm not cynical [about these towns I'm designing] with *you*" We were talking about how the towns are supposed to be agrarian communities and(!) 'active retirement homes' but that somehow putting a bunch of farmland in the hands of seniors seemed less ideal than putting it in the hands of people who, you know, need food, are able-bodied, and have no money. We had just agreed that wasn't the North American Way.
And the more time goes on the more these things become very important to me. I'm not doing anything here; schooling will help, but I'll still be tweaking the current system only. I used to think that we could fall softly into something new, but I'm not sure we can anymore, and I'm not sure I want to be a part of it if we can.
I have nothing else to say, I guess, and I need to eat something.
Care.