No End in Sight

One year and a half, a year and a half–and there is no end in sight.  I have no plans to purchase a car, nor, does my partner.  We decided to rid ourselves of those machines a while back when our cars gave out within a month of each other.  We still use cars when we go on long trips or find it necessary for special visitors in the heat of the summer.  But we/I am quite content witnessing the everyday arrive via bike.

Last week someone told me he had seen an article written about our “car diet.”  I was a little embarrassed that that made the news, especially because he said he had been going without a car for at least 10 years.  I know at least five other folks who have gone without a car for much longer.  Yet, I met some individuals who have lived some hard lives here on the streets of Albuquerque, and they said they would never have the nerve to ride their bikes–too afraid!  Maybe I am just silly or lucky or naïve or I just don’t travel far enough off the beaten path to bring the fear of cars into my life.

Although I prepare myself for the road, I don’t like to approach it with fear.  I actually feel quite lucky.  I, a forty year old, has enough chutzpah and drive to deny myself that which so many Americans’ strive. And,  I am lucky I have a partner who will join me on this quest.  Mostly, I feel fortunate that my inner desire to dismantle the dominant themes in our society -that of bigger, faster, sexier outweigh the desire to give in.

Yep, looks like me and my bike will be reaching year two–two years with no end in sight.

Mindy

Why I keep bees

I had been thinking about bees for several years, after  a  series of dreams inspired me to embark on a crooked path of honeybee self-education. I had visited the hives of a friend, and read a book called Letters from the Hive. But in reality, I didn’t think I could keep bees: there were complications, like the fact that my mom is allergic to them, and my backyard is maybe 300 feet square. So a few years passed. I read bee books, and had more bee-dreams.

Then in 2011 I met my mentor, Jessie Brown, of Brown’s Downtown Bees. She agreed to let me tag along and help her out, so I could get some hands-on experience. I was terrified, thrilled and completely enchanted. At one point I was helping Jessie build a stand to raise a beehive above a concrete wall. With a hive of buzzing bees balanced on top of my head – don’t ask – I realized that I was not afraid at all (although most rational people would be).

A couple of weeks later, on May 6th, 2011 – just as I was diving headlong into this sweet community of the Burque Bioneers – a swarm of bees alighted in my neighbor’s tree. I collected them with the help of a friend, and put them into a hive that I’d intended to put to use in 2012, when I had more experience.  The next day, May 7th, another swarm of bees landed nearby, this time at my house.

I might not have been ready to become a beekeeper, but the bees were coming anyway. “Call off the bee juju,” my husband suggested. Indeed.

It has been a fabulously humbling year of beekeeping. In addition to learning about basic hive management, I’ve had to find cow chips for my smoker in an urban setting; cope with robber bees; and dissuade my bees from cross-combing. Last fall, I had to off-with-her-head the original queen and install a more fertile monarch. I fretted about the bees surviving the winter, and then fretted when I opened the hive last month and found the bees were doing very well, thanks, and in the mood to swarm.

I tend to be too busy; it’s something I’m working on (ha, ha). And beekeeping is a balm for a busy person such as myself – you just have to slow down while you do it. While one wants to move with efficiency when working a hive, one also wants to move carefully, with ease, and purpose. Donning my white garb, veil, and sturdy boots, lighting my smoker, greeting the bees before I open the hive – this is a ritual that soothes me, and makes me feel like a bride of the bees. It feels sacred.

Last week I helped a friend install bees in her new hive. When things seemed about to get complicated, I begin singing a mantra to the bees, just under my breath. It was a spontaneous offering, an invitation to the bees to work with us, a request to let us work with them. Afterwards my friend said, “You sang to the bees,” and I felt bashful. Did I?

I don’t usually sing in public; I’m too self conscious. But bees help me access a fearless place inside of myself, a peaceful warrior, if you will …

And that’s why I keep bees.

Peace, happiness and hope

What is a healthy, happy world? What does it look like? How do we get there from here?

I find myself stepping back and back and back to questions like these… And they seem so very BIG.

In a recent conversation with a new friend, the framework of hope was offered to guide our selections for the Burque Bioneers film screenings.

Hope.

It is so easy to become mired in the many concerns of life. Easy to be worried. So, for this week, let’s keep it simple. May you have peace, happiness, and a lot of hope, friends.

Early Earth Day

So I’m the last Wednesday blogger and as you can see, I’m a day late.  But, if good news were dollars our pockets would be overflowing right now.

I’m happy to share word of the release of a new and marvelous book of poetry from the Harwood Art Center’s publishing imprint, Old School Books.  The newest work is called

How-to: multiple perspectives on creating a garden, a life, community and relationships.

The book was conceived as a celebration of Harwood’s anniversary, in 2011, of twenty years supporting and nurturing all things creative, and community. It contains poetry by thirty wonderful poets, illustrations by Betsy James (illustrations in a book of poetry…how novel), and a lovely cover photo by David Ondrik.  Oh, and there’s a recipe for Calabacitas con Maiz y Chile from Jessie Sais that you absolutely don’t want to miss.  This certainly isn’t your English teacher’s poetry anthology.

Interested to learn more?  Come to the book release party at The Harwood Art Center, on Saturday, April 21^st.  It’s happening at 3pm, in the Poets’ Plaza.  The poets will be reading their work, the books will be available, and you can celebrate Earth Day, Poetry, Gardening and Community with Albuquerque’s creative crew.

I hope to see you there!

Until the next last Wednesday of the month…

Grizzly Man…

This past weekend I finally caught up with the story of Timothy Treadwell.  Better known as the namesake of Werner Herzog’s documentary Grizzly Man, Treadwell grew up in suburban Long Island before his journey of personal reckoning lead him to the remote Katmai National Park and Preserve in Alaska.  He spent 13 remarkable summers solo camping in that wilderness all the while documenting on film his personal attempt to live amongst the bears.

Herzog’s influence on the narrative is palpable and ironic.  The juxtaposed perspectives of the two filmmakers’ and their reliance on the singular tape source makes for a tantalizing context from which the viewer must paint their own picture.

For his part, Treadwell goes a very long way in establishing as fact a power born of love, respect and desire to engender relationships across an otherwise gaping divide of novelty and suspicion.  The man/bear interaction is often tense, sometimes tender and almost never violent.  Ultimately the fragile truce collapses under the weight of unmitigated reality.

This is Herzog’s point.  How else to rationalize the ultimate act of violence?  The gap between man and nature is too wide.  Thou shall not cross the line, or else be destroyed.

For those who find solace in nature where the activity of man has left too much shame and regret these questions loom large.  Thirteen years of relative success is not insignificant.  Who’s to say the bear, or some of the bears, felt no shame in the act?  Whether the universe is best defined by a sometimes imperfect cohesion or rather as us/them?

As a train of thought, a topic of discussion, regardless…a satisfying result from a Sunday evening’s search amongst the Netflix titles.

 

 

 

WiserEarth

I was ambling about the internet for work-related things and came across this resource:  wiserearth.org. It’s a “social network for sustainability”. You can read more below. There are 156 Albuquerque (within 25 miles of Albuquerque) organizations listed. There are 2 Albuquerque groups. Some of the listings are probably out of date, but the idea behind this site is a nice one. Look for a Burque Bioneers listing soon. In the meantime, enjoy this description from the site:

What is WiserEarth?

WiserEarth is a global village for sharing and kinship-building among changemakers around the world.

More specifically, WiserEarth helps the global movement of people and organizations working toward social justice, indigenous rights, and environmental stewardship to connect, collaborate, share knowledge, and build alliances.

WiserEarth is also a tax-exempt not–for-profit organization, under section 501(c)(3) of the United States Internal Revenue Code.

Tools and content are ad-free.

All the resources you find here are free to use and re-use.

Transient Animals in Clay

Artist Niya Lee installed this unfired-clay Northern Aplomado Falcon in Tiguex Park this morning… Part of Lee’s series of sculptures for the INSIGHT Project, a City of Albuquerque Public Art Program initiative. The Public Art Program has commissioned several artists to create temporary installations, which they photograph; the photographs are then included in the public art permanent collection.

Niya will have sculptures around town over the next few months. All of her pieces represent endangered species that are native to New Mexico. The fragile, unfired clay – which will crumble with weather and/or human interference – represents the fragility of these creatures and their presence in our midst. You can see a time-lapse video of her process, here.

This installation is on the utility box at the northwest end of the park – right across from the Albuquerque Museum of Art and History.

I am always excited when artists create work that honors and calls attention to the plants, insects and animals that share this planet with us. Lee’s work is tender, yet also a detached statement of fact: Here’s a falcon. It’s endangered.

Check out this small sculpture that is beautiful, and here for a moment…..