Turns out there are some nice views around here.

I wanted to peel off strips of bark from this tree and write notes to people.

My sketchbook and I have been spending a lot of quality time together lately. When I came across this photo I quickly got to work creating my own. It’s a little lopsided but I had fun with it:

Would you be willing to take 10 minutes out of your day to draw half of your face on a piece of paper and snap a photo of it? I’d love to see a whole bunch of these start popping up on the internet.

This is what I remember:

Bedtime at eight, though the sun remained in the sky for another hour, casting an orange glow over the rippling lake. Mom propped on one elbow, head resting on palm, while the other hand cradled Swiss Family Robinson. Bedtime stories by the light of summer dusk.

Summer sleep always unfolded on this porch, in a high bed that felt enormous. In my mind the bed was a raft, heaped with blankets, pillows, and afloat at sea. Perhaps this is why we started reading Swiss Family Robinson.

“For many days, we have been tempest-tossed,” Mom begins.

One sentence into chapter one, and I interject: “What’s ‘tempest-tossed, Mama?”

“What’s ‘tempest-tossed’? What’s ‘tempest-tossed’?!” (feigned shock). At once she grabs me with one arm, pulls me sharply against her soft body, then pushes me away. Then repeats, several times. “Whoooooosh whooosh,” she blows simultaneously, chaotically. “This is ‘tempest-tossed’! Do you feel it?”

I gasp to respond through my giggles, but it’s no use. The demonstration continues. Mom now lies on her back, holding me above her torso in a jostling version of ‘airplane ride’. My legs dangle on either side of her body, holding my balance as she whips me from side to side. I’m laughing so hard that I struggle for breath. She releases me and after a moment continues reading.

Fifteen feet away, water lap-laps against the shore, at the point where the dusty, pine needle covered ground slopes below the lake’s surface. Once, during a spring flood, the water rose to meet the base of the porch. This I do not remember except that my mom tells me it is so.

My hair is still sweet and damp after an obligatory shower (met with great protest) following that evening’s game of Swamp Orphans. When Mom rang the cowbell, summoning me for dinner (hot dogs, the only food I would willingly eat that summer), I arrived on the front steps covered in mud, twigs lodged in my hair. Mom made me dump the muck from my sneakers and remove my wet, blackened socks before entering the house.

Now, nestled in a big bed, on a porch surrounded by trees, water, and more trees, I listen as the night comes alive. Piney limbs groan and murmur to the wind (in winter it is the ice that makes these sounds, but louder, cracks echoing across the lake), and bullfrogs sing a guttural tune. A warm breeze embraces me. My breath softens in time with the woods as I sink deep into a dream world.

If this were every childhood, who would grow up to make war?

These photos were taken before the time change. Now when I leave work on Mondays it’s dark out. For a while this was what I got to see every time I walked to the further away subway. I was asked why I don’t ride my bike. I’ll endure 15 minutes on a crowded subway any day if it means half an hour of fall leaves and sunsets along the river.

Sometimes I need the slowness of walking.

Two weekends ago, my friend Catie and I rose early, hopped in the car, and hit the road. Along the way we picked up two guys who contacted me via a rideshare post on Craigslist. Our destination? The Twenty-Ninth Annual E.F. Schumacher Lectures in Stockbridge, Massachussetts. The Schumacher Society’s mission is to promote the building of strong local economies that link people, land, and community. Each of the three guest speakers approached the topic from a unique lens.

Bill McKibben, author of Deep Economy and The End of Nature, spoke about his work organizing the international day of climate action [see previous post about McKibben's organization, 350.org]. Listen to his talk here.

Political theorist Benjamin Barber discussed public vs. private choices and our roles as citizens vs. consumers. His talk deeply resonated with me. Listen to it here and read a poignant text excerpt of his talk here.

Alisa Gravitz, executive director of Green America, was last to present. By the end of her talk I felt empowered and hopeful that our country can reach an 80-90% reduction in CO2 emissions by 2020. She maintained that we need to induce a shift to a culture of thrift rather than extolling spending on newly manufactured goods. Amen! Thrift and finding use for what might otherwise be treated as waste has been a large part of my life work throughout the past year. Listen here.

Links: Check out Bill McKibben, Benjamin Barber, and Alisa Gravitz’s websites.

On Saturday, October 24, people in 181 countries came together for the most widespread day of environmental action in the planet’s [her]story. At over 5200 events around the world, people gathered to call for strong action and bold leadership on the climate crisis. -350.org

Why 350? Scientists say that 350 parts per million CO2 in the atmosphere is the safe limit for humanity. Right now we’re at 390. And for all of human history until about 200 years ago, our atmosphere contained 275 parts per million of carbon dioxide. read more about the science here…

On Saturday afternoon I hopped on my bike and rode to the “Boston Underwater” 350 Celebration.

“Critical Mass is a vision of a happy, bike-friendly world replacing our polluted, congested roads, a protest for better cycling facilities and against car culture, a mobile paean to bicycling’s joys, a merry ride downtown and through the neighborhoods with friends, and more – all rolled into one convenient monthly ride right after work!”

Today we rode through downtown and then over the bridge through Kendall, Central, Harvard, Porter and Davis square. I got pushed off my bike by a pedestrian that was trying to guide a taxi through the bike traffic. He saw me coming and threw his body into me as I rode past him. I got back on and kept riding though. My favorite part was going over the bridge as the sun set. I’m definitely going to be doing this again next month.

Please excuse my poor quality phone photos below while I shakily steered my bike. One day I will master riding without hands. The ones above were taken before the ride began.

“Critical Mass is not an organization. It is a coincidence.”

We made an array of sushi. Ingredients used include carrot, asparagus, avocado, marinated tofu, sweet potato, cucumber, honey & apple & cinnamon.

Want to make your own? ’tis easy. Check out the http://www.theppk.com/recipes/vegansushi.shtml

homemade hummus and tea in a jar

I spent a few days last week in Northampton, Massachusetts, where my mornings involved a short walk to Cafe Evolution, a vegan bakery and cafe. Inspired by Cafe Evolution’s magnificent ginger scones, I returned to Boston inspired to make my own vegan scones. This batch was pumpkin ginger. Hold tight; I’m still improving the recipe.

I created this flow chart and taped it to the wall above my desk.

Julia came across this book and read this part out loud to me.

Alison and I have decided to renew our commitment to landscapes are not!
For me, landscapes is a medium for thoughts, creative self-expression, and the occasional mind-blowing recipe, as well as a place where my loved ones – and there are many of you scattered throughout the world – can get a glimpse of what I’m up to.

So much to catch up on! To begin, the theme of some soon-to-come posts:

What have I been up to since my mid-April departure from India?

• working as a Crew Leader with The Food Project in Boston
• book selling
• food making
• greasecar searchin’
• dumpstering
• careening round boston by bike
• master cleansing
• practicing non-violent communication
• music a-listening
• lake and ocean splashing

details to come…

Alison and I left NYC for Greece exactly one year ago. With a one-way ticket, we had no idea what would unfold beyond our first month of WWOOFing on Paros. Three months in Greece led to a magical December in Barcelona, Paris, the South of France countryside for Christmas, and Amsterdam for New Years. With the new year, I boarded a plane in London and flew to Chennai, India. No plans upon landing. And I found myself in Sadhana Forest, a most wondrous eco-community and reforestation project full of travelers, adventurers, and otherwise free spirits (not to mention a surprising number of Vassar grads), in the Southeast state of Tamil Nadu.

As I shared in my very first landscapes are not blog post:

try not to expect anything
in this way everything will open up to you

words to live by. certainly words to adventure by.

This is the hut where I slept during my two months at Sadhana Forest.
Sadhana uses minimal electricity, all of which is solar generated.

Environments are invisible. Their ground rules, pervasive structure, and overall patterns allude easy perception.

Marshall McLuhan

I’m currently savoring a book titled The Medium is the Massage, by old-school (i.e. pre-internet) media theorist Marshall McLuhan, with graphics by Quentin Fiore. For me, this volume is a visual, spiritual, and soulful experience.

The title was supposed to have read “The Medium is the Message” but the typesetter made an error (”Massage”). McLuhan enthusiastically embraced the typo, exclaiming, “Leave it alone! It’s great, and right on target!” There are four possible readings for the last word of the title, and each is relevant: “Message” and “Mess Age,” “Massage” and “Mass Age.”

McLuhan asserts that the linear nature of language shapes our world view such that we perceive time and space as inherently linear. He then explains:

Until writing was invented, [wo]man lived in acoustic space: boundless, directionless, horizonless, in the dark of the mind, in the world of emotion, by primordial intuition, by terror. Speech is a social chart of this bog… Primitive and pre-alphabet people integrate time and space as one and live in an acoustic, horizonless, boundless, olfactory space.

I strive to foster precisely this acoustic, horizonless, boundless, olfactory relationship with time and space. Floating free in an ambient universe. After all, time is an invention; so too are borders.

There is absolutely no inevitability as long as there is a willingness to contemplate what is happening.

1. Iced Coffee (Unsure if it’s iced coffee weather yet? Check isiticedcoffeeweather.com)

2. Hula-hoops

3. Rooftops at night

4. T-shirts and sunshine

5. Fun and excitement

I’m back in the states and have spent the past couple weeks figuring out where to move. Back and forth between Brooklyn (pictured above) and Boston. I’ve finally settled on a lovely summer sublet in Boston! I have a feeling life here this summer will be full of just as many adventures as life abroad.