The Fall season is always a busy time in Florida as it marks not only the start of the annual stretch of well loved winter holidays but also the beginning of the height of the arts, culture and tourism season here in the Sunshine State. After two years of precautious, arms length and virtual engagements due to pandemic health concerns, this autumn feels like it was the busiest on record. Coming out of a whirlwind world tour that started in Lee County last October and ended last week in Wynwood, visual and performance works of Tara A. Chadwick made stops in Hong Kong, Sydney, London, Zurich, Laguna Beach, Rome, Palma de Mallorca and the Milk of Dreams Venice Biennale along the way. Installation and performance work was manifested locally at Miami Beach Botanical Garden, Greenspace Miami, downtown Fort Lauderdale, Miramar and Everglades National Park. Collaborations are ongoing and developing. Follow and message me on instagram for invitations & inquiries!
Below are a few key highlights of the year in review:
Upcoming intergenerational enrichment experience exploring winter science & celebrations at Sunset Lakes Community Center next Wednesday, December 21st at 10:30-11:30 am.
Chono Thlee: Sparking a New Era in Seminole Art exhibition curated by Tara Chadwick on view through January 10th at History Fort Lauderdale.
Papalotl (Butterfly) Project Social Innovation Fellow at Cogenerate.
Special thanks to Akeesha Nadjiwon Footman for being the first to add one of the limited edition Matriarch prints to her prestigious Canadian fine art collection. And to each and every one of you who keeps on supporting me through the many ideas, goals and the often intense work that goes into making those dreams become our reality. I am so thankful for YOU. Let's keep on building wider, stronger, smarter, together!
These are some of the things that come to mind during this time of year when we celebrate the Summer Solstice in this region of our planet. This year we took a moment to reflect on the strong rays of sunlight that were literally shining through the clouds surrounding us this longest day of the year. As human beings, we all have those things which distract us, just as we all have gifts that are immeasurably important to the human family. A condition in which each of us has the opportunity to fully develop and share those gifts with all of humanity is, for me, the ideal goal of a healthy economy. I also published an article that describes some of the current work that I've been helping Fort Lauderdale Historical Society engage in which can be found in this month's edition of InterpNews (p. 84-88, there is a great article on concretions immediately preceeding mine too!).
This month I also had the opportunity to share some of these thoughts briefly with a gathering of a few of Broward County's brilliant people. I'm looking forward to contributing more to widening our base of passionate, accountable and inspired community builders.
This week as I blissfully go about my daily business, it is with a little more deliberate effort at intentionally blocking out the sights and sounds associated with yet another school shooting massacre here on our own soil.
It should not be so surprising, and yet the horror of it, children being massacred in their own classrooms, by their peers, is the stuff that can stomp hope out of the most optimistic of hearts.
My teenager has almost no recollection of a time when school did not involve violence. There is of course, the daily meanness and bullying that seems to have happened in public schools since they were instituted in this country as a mechanism for socialization into the melting pot. But then there is also the unimaginable lockdown drills practiced on a regular basis that my son tells me he cannot talk to me about because it will be too upsetting to me. And then there are the drills that only the teachers prepare for... Teacher prep time used to be for grading, lesson planning, and designing the best hallway bulletin board in the school. Now it's for laminating dark poster paper to darken windows in the hopes that it will reduce the chances of an active shooter taking aim at a classroom window.
Yes, I have been putting a lot of effort into not thinking about it this week. Since I heard of the Santa Fe shooting last Friday, my approach has been, just don't think about it... I wonder how many of our business leaders, legislators and lawmakers follow suit with my attempt at self-imposed apathy? How many of our children have to do their best this week to "just not think about it..."? Is that the solution to problem solving that we are role modeling now? "Just don't think about it." If we do just pretend that the problem does not exist... will it actually cease to exist? If we wish to take the approach of the legendary ostrich in the sand... that is our choice, however, as we have learned from Columbine and Sandy Hook and Red Lake, and Pulse and Parkland and Santa Fe, we can forget and pretend and ignore and deny, but sooner or later, the reality is going to hit us too. If we continue to do nothing to support the action required to successfully ensure that gun violence never again plucks the hearts out of parents and siblings and peers who will never again touch the hands or kiss the cheeks of their loved ones, then inevitably this preventable public health epidemic of disasterous proportions will eventually touch each of us. Like one of the parents of Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School said, "We didn't think it could be us."
We have choices to make. Sit and do nothing, or stand and deliver change into the waiting arms of our young people. Their ability to live is determined by our perseverence in maintaining our level of civic engagement in the process of democracy which by its very nature requires us to participate, share our views and work together to provide solutions. Together we can solve this crisis. Today if we all wanted to. Re-authorize the collection, compilation and analysis of gun violence data as the public health crisis that it is. Apply standard epidemiological, intervention and prevention procedures and practices. Fund local grassroots, community organizations to provide outreach, case management and harm reduction services. Do what has been proven to work through science. Replicate successful programming, not just in the property-tax-rich schools but in all neighborhoods, schools and organizations.
My 6 year old is counting the number of days left until the end of the school year. Today marks the 97th day since the massacre at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School at the northern edge of our public school district. How many more days will go by until we can all assure our Kindergarten children that it is safe for them to go to school....? What are we doing to ensure that day comes?
This Friday at Miramar Cultural Center, I will join with students from Parkland and throughout our Broward County School District and Miramar Mayor Wayne Messam to stand with them, listen, and help form a plan for action. What will you do...?
Poem dedicated to students of Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School
Sometimes our time markers, memory markers all happen to converge. Today is one of those days. First day of school of the last year of middle school for my older son and the first day of kindergarten for the younger one.
Four and three quarters of a year past the completion of the bundle of years we know as the baktun cycle of the Mesoamerican calendar.
Our young people are getting healthy, standing up, using their voices. Unity is on the rise. It is definitely the beginning of an era.
Our ancestors across this continent had and continue to have many different ways of honoring the particular point in the infinite dance of our universe that we recognize today as eclipses. There are scrolls and charts, sculptures and symbols to account for the calculations of the passing of time and the various markers used to keep track of the many cycles we observe. In some cases, we don't know what types of ceremonies or commemorations were held, while in other cases, the ancient traditions are still practiced within vibrant cultural communities.
In my own pleuri-cultural family, lunar eclipses, like the phases of the moon that greet us every day of every month of every year, remain a special and sacred time of reflection, quiet contemplation, care and love. My grandmother would always stay up, notice, watch and sing a beautiful rendition of "big lady moon" in her low lullabye voice, while my grandfather would always join us for a moment, then retreat to his sleeping quarters. The instructions we are to follow as human beings remain clearly written on our hearts, we have only to clear our minds enough to follow them.
In the cities of our Maya ancestors, urban planners constructed cultural landscapes with central plazas in line with the location of the rising, setting and mid-day sun on the days of the summer and winter solstice. Some cities, known for their scientific prowess in tracking the cycles of the planets and starts, contain ancient observatories, perhaps they even functioned as building-sized pinhole cameras or camera obscura.
In 1979 when I was six years old, I attended a Miami-Dade County public school called Comstock Elementary. I loved my reading book, "It Happened This Way," featuring a pink flamingo who had swallowed a pretzel on the front cover. I hated the standardized testing I was introduced to that year. I loved earning cheeze it cracker treats from my teacher by sitting quietly when it was rest time. And I remember the day all the teachers were worriedly reminding us not to look up at the sun. It was Miami's last total solar eclipse, and my most memorable day of school, ever. Kudos to all the teachers, principals and administrators who will do their best to ensure that no kids get solar blindness on their watch today.
As for me, I'm going to take a deep breath, take a few moments to reflect, and prepare to welcome in the start of a new era... maybe, hopefully, the sun will shine on our people once more....
This last month or so has been a whirlwind of emotions and activity, from the largest ever mobilization of women in the United States, to the apparent divide and conquer tactics that seem to be part of the legislative docket... And yet, through it all, I do my best to remain focused, fearless and determined in my resolve to provide a solid path to the future. Not much to say, lots to do. Here are a few snapshots in that effort. Never give up!!!
Guess who won a Puffin Foundation Grant?
THANK YOU
We make the road by walking... an old proverb, cliche even, but words of wisdom which I find myself even more in need of these days than usual.
Spent the day at #MAMP2017 with an incredible cadre of artists, businesses, organizations, administrators and consumers of every type and genre of art you can imagine.
Thanks to a gracious last minute scholarship from #BrowardArts for this sold out conference, I got a whole lot of tips, tricks, advise and more importantly practice in translating what I do to an audience of potential donors, supporters, sponsors and funders. It was not an easy task by any means!
Definitely need a lot more practice to hone those communication skills to transfer my messaging to a group of investors, so different from the cozy, like minded social networks I'm used to operating within. Nope, this was my version of shark tank - and I actually get along quite well with sharks, just not humans who think like them! Far far removed from the ideals of community wellness and readiness for behavior change that are more familar terrain for me. Interesting thing is, though, the desired outcomes for influencing behavior, motivating action and evaluating impact still shine through! So maybe its just the process and jargon that seem so divergent. In any case, the day sure got me thinking, stretching, learning and appreciating the opportunity to meet some sparkling colleagues, allies and experts in this vast field we know as a fundamental right and necessity for all people of all ages... art.
This morning, in answer to a call from a young mother, I
packed up my water bundle and headed out across the street to the recently
restored wetlands, the only mixed use conservation area in our county. It was
only 9 am and already one of those long days when you have to make a whole
bunch of decisions regarding what path to follow, whether to stick to the plan,
or if not, which options to follow in pursuit of a day full of meaning, growth,
commitment, love, community and wellness. Another of those many days when one walks a precarious path
to that distant and elusive goal: balance…
At every turn the questions bubble, push or pull, stay or
leave, come or go… in which cases I tend to throw logic to the wind and do my
best to follow whatever instinct I can muster. So was this day, even at its
earliest point.
So I left the kids in bed, packed up the water bundle, and
headed out on the epic journey across the street. As soon as I arrived, I was
surprised at the park entry fee, which is only collected on holidays and
weekends, and of course I’d forgotten that today is in fact the beginning of a
long weekend. So I doled out my buck
fifty, and proceeded to find a spot in the nearly empty human half of the
conservation park area.
It was a minimalist type of bundle – water, water vessel,
cloth, a bit of Cuban cigar tobacco, and that’s about it. I did grow some
tobacco this summer, but it was so hot, my plants all got baked before they
bore any flowers! I’ll plant again now that #FloridaWinter’s arrived and it’s a
bit cooler…
As I troddled down the paved sidewalk that links the park
entry way with the wetland trail for humans, I was met immediately by an
incredibly beautiful mature bald eagle swooping around just above the over
water bridge trail. What a welcome greeting!
I somewhat sheepishly did my best to capture the moment on cell video
and then put away the phone and enjoyed the swoops and circles the eagle made
before heading out to the north.
A video posted by Tara Chadwick (@bawshkeengwabigun) on
Pleased that my intentions seem to have already been
received, I continued down the path until I reached the westernmost edge of the
eastern lagoon. Such a gorgeous mix of native water plants, grasses, sedges,
trees and wildflowers! Terry the ranger says that this waterway running alongside
the Florida Turnpike was once part of the canoe trail into the everglades. I love the way that this field has been
converted – restored to its original topography – a wetland, lagoon, pineland
and live oak hammock.
After making my offerings of tobacco and songs, I spent a
moment wishing my boys were by my side rather than still tucked into bed, so,
in honor of the little one’s “thunderbird boy” creation earlier this month, I
left a “thunderbird woman” on the snow white sand for all to see, until the
next rain drops dance by to scoop her up for a whirl.
A photo posted by Tara Chadwick (@bawshkeengwabigun) on
As I snapped the last documentary pics, and wrapped up my
bundle to head back for my big babies, I was met by another incredible
surprise, the eagle was back, this time, circling over the east side of the
park, which is also the area where we live. This time, I felt like a happy
little human, skipping along, playing with the eagle, opening my wings and
pretending to fly.
I am so grateful for the work of all who are intentionally
and strategically building our communities, by sharing our histories, our
personal journeys, our goals, our triumphs. It is truly an honor to witness and
participate in putting together a path that will serve as a road, a guide, a
map for ourselves, our neighbors and our children in the inevitable times of both tragedy and
triumph that await just beyond the horizon…
For all those who celebrate this day as their New Year –
happy 2017 – and for absolutely everyone – let’s build!
It's Basel time here in South Florida. Art Basel Miami started out nearly two decades ago as a hoite-toite contemporary art show that corresponded to the longer running #MiamiArtWeek. This was in the days when Wynwood was still that part of town that nobody went to, unless you happen to live there, or you went looking with your family for a cheap pair of shoes factory-direct.
A photo posted by Tara Chadwick (@bawshkeengwabigun) on
Photo credit: Adrienne Chadwick
Wynwood these days is the heart of what an international influx of people-who-value-art can do in a community. Don't get me wrong, Wynwood is about Miami, and Art Basel is all about people coming to Miami to experience international contemporary art in the setting, that quintessential ambience that is South Florida.
And local folks are catching the Basel bug big time. Over the past ten years, more and more you hear Basel becoming part of the year round conversations on art, exhibitions and museum planning. It's an informal kick off, so to speak, of what we call "the season." No, not the holidays - the season extends way beyond them. It's that time of year when the leaves start changing and the bulk of our states 100+ million visitors start making their way through our ports and into our streets, shops and parking spaces. So when you're visiting Basel, your transportation experience will likely mirror the patience with which we Floridians take every October through April...
But overall we have come to love Basel - with all it's internationalism, luxury and let's face it, buying power. This art show is about featuring art with the hopes that it will be snapped up by one of the many big name art collectors, who is in turn, hoping that their chosen pieces will beat the markets in their return on investment.
Turns out, art is as good an investment as any - and there's no shortage of amazing artists here in South Florida - we're just in need of a bit more encouragement into the realm of fearless innovation to spark our creativity outside the boxes that we all grow so comfortable with here, maybe it's the marine soil. So, in a way Art Basel's focus on international art is good for us, stretches our conceptions of what makes good art.
I'm looking forward to what Basel has in store for us this year... hoping to find some inspiration for the future of our species and the planet we inhabit... maybe some reflections of my wildest good dreams... and who knows, maybe I'll even find that one piece that will last a lifetime - one that includes some perspective on the world we're fighting to create... one based on investments in #truth #dignity #liberty #jutice
... I had just returned from my second summer of working with Institute of Archaeology (NICH) Belize to squeeze in what would be my last family vacation (to date at least). We had driven over to Sanibel Island, FL and explored the beautiful west coast of our home state. Upon the weather reports, we rushed back across Alligator Alley, Everglades, Fl to encounter a whole line of cars heading in the opposite direction.
Our hurricane prep had to be kicked into high gear, with only a few short hours until the predicted landfall. It was by far the scariest night of my life. Uncertainty. Humility. Unknowing. When in the midst of a natural disaster we are wholly and completely in the hands of mother nature. Eventually the sun rose again, and by noon the waters in our neighborhood had receeded. Having survived with our home more or less intact, we gingerly ventured out to survey the effects.
Of course there was no electricity. Or running water at first. But these services were restored within several hours to several days in our area. The olive trees were all down, uprooted, laying sideways on the ground. Electrical wires dangled dangerously throughout the neighborhood like strewn jump ropes. The park was a complete mess. But the most difficult part of all was the complete absence of communication with our family in the Homestead area. No phone. Internet did not yet exist for us, nor did cell phones. Land lines were inoperable. And we had no access to television because our electricity had not yet been restored... Those were the most difficult days, hours that seemed like months.
Once the electricity finally came back on and we were able to view the #TV #Broadcast coverage of the storm damage... we could not believe what we saw. Complete and utter destruction. Telephone poles snapped like toothpicks. Trees completely denuded of branches and foliage. Houses, apartments and businesses in ruin, reduced to a messy pile of concrete and wood from which they were constructed. That had been my first experience in a serious hurricane, there were many close calls before, but this... this was a direct hit and a hard one. Many families lost everything in that storm. We began to see the incredible destruction that the southern parts of #Miami had sustained, and unable to contact any of our family members, my dad and I loaded up water, blankets, food and first aid supplies and headed out. We were going on a search and rescue mission, not knowing what to expect or what we would find. It started out okay, more trees down, electrical wires hanging... but as we drove further south, the landscape began to change. This familiar route became more and more foreign to me. Housing complexes crashed in from the top. Areas once covered with tree canopy looking like open savannah. The #MiamiZoo campus, with its new aviary, completely unidentifiable.
Once we got off the highway, which had been somewhat cleared of the debris, crumpled metal signs and their poles had been moved out of the center lane onto the shoulder. It was even hard to know where to get off, the landmarks were all missing. The short journey from the highway to the neighborhood where my mothers grandmother lived was the most difficult part of all. There were command centers set up, long lines of people looking disheveled. Soldiers handing out water. As we got closer it seemed to get more difficult to figure out where we were. At this point, there were no trees in sight. Not a single leaf anywhere. Many homes we passed were in various states of collapse, yards were littered with random debris, aluminum siding, patio furniture, buckets. We finally managed to locate the house. It too was bare of trees, foliage, just the trunk of the giant avocado stood behind as a sentinel of sorts... but the house was still standing! We found a clear spot to park. Got out. And the door opened! I was so happy and relieved to find my three grandmothers all alive and relatively well. There were parts of the house that were in shambles, roof busted, but they were okay. We brought in the food, water, and supplies that we'd brought. Dad got to work with the chainsaw, clearing fallen trees from the driveway. And honestly, I don't even remember the ride home! All I know is that I was really happy that our search and rescue mission was successful. The rest is #history....
July! Last leg of the freedom of summer vacation. End of the carefree "lazy, hazy, crazy dayz of summer." Here in South Florida this is the time to prep for the possibility of the occasional hurricane. And in the meantime, we enjoy those summer fruit jewels - mango, mamey, and the family of annona. The heat is so intense but the sweetness of a tree-ripened tropical fruit is so very delicious!
Its that time to also start sending our thoughts toward preparations for fall. That means setting those marigold and milkweed seeds to germinate, as many as possible! Those monarch butterflies will be gliding through our greater everglades flyway before you know it and in our overdeveloped coastal areas, this means we need to plant more milkweed! [Get your free milkweed seeds here.] Then we can start to plan for which veggies will go where and what soil conditions each needs... soil type is so crucial here in the tropics... northern gardeners really just don't get it!
Finally, it's that time to start thinking about ofrendas. This year's #SouthFloridaDayoftheDead Celebration will host free community workshops throughout the fall, including family friendly puppet, mask and ofrenda making. Follow South Florida Day of the Dead for event postings coming soon! There's also a couple of adult only events too, including Roast of the Calacas which offers a showcase of your best off-color puppet humor (call to artists coming soon). Applications are open for the community to participate as artists in the month long Ofrenda exhibit at History Fort Lauderdale. And everyone is welcome to dance, walk or roll in the November 2 Day of the Dead procession from Huizenga Plaza through the downtown historic district to Revolution Live.
In the end it's all a cycle, with art, love & planting holding it all together for us - let's work!
Yesterday morning, I pulled up happily up to the entrance gate of John U Lloyd State Park a full half hour earlier than anticipated. Early morning weekday traffic to the South Florida Beach was a lot more user friendly that I thought it would be. A friend from the South Florida Day of the Dead celebration invited us out to do a presentation on #FTLhistory at the summer camp she coordinates.
Mornings at the beach are a rare beauty for me. A beach visit, however fleeting, without my own children is something I hadn't experienced in over a decade! It is truly amazing the gift that just a few moments can be in one's life. I'd been thinking of a young friend this week, hearing news of the #Moonshot meetings, and missing the amazing person she was... but the intense light of the rising sun on the water and the graceful pose of the maturing sea oat pods distracted my thoughts. I looked toward the horizon, wondering what beauty might still be ahead on my own journey through life.
As I traversed the few paces along the shoreline back toward the pavilion where my work day would soon begin, a peculiar pattern caught my attention. I knew this u shaped track from seeing it once before, cradled in midnight darkness. This was the evidence of a nesting sea turtle. I was impressed by the realization that several hours earlier, a massive, 200 pound mature female turtle had emerged from the open sea at this precise location of her hatching 5 to 50 years prior. Soon enough the park ranger arrived to investigate and document the nest. Fifty two days from now, the eggs should hatch, barring any hazards like racoons, coyotes, or overly rough seas.
That 20 minutes may be the most gratifying observation that I've ever made. It provided me with a much needed reminder that in life you may need to return to the slow road of a turtle, but the road of a turtle is strategic, definite, purposeful and carries a message that is intergenerational in its impact. May we all experience the beauty of a return to turtle road...
I hereby declare May sister brag month. I have two biological sisters. My first baby sis, the one who made me into a big sister, is actually way bigger, badder, bolder and cooler than I. She was born on a freezing February morning in the bedroom of a modest east end apartment overlooking the immeasurable geologic beauty of the Scarborough Bluffs. Yes, we are Scarberians... strange creatures who emerged from the cave of life at the far eastern corner of what they call the GTA. Used to be a day long Greyhound trip here from downtown Tdot, aka Cabbagetown. Not anymore though, unless you take the 401, then it may still take a you a day to traverse the 12 miles.
My baby sis was born three weeks ahead of schedule into the able bodied, yet completely unprepared hands of my aunt and grandmother. From day number one, she required innovation from every person around her! No nose squeezy thing? Find the straws and clear out those passageways so this baby can breathe! As she grew, she exuded creativity and confidence in every aspect of her life. From where she determined it was best to keep her toys (on the floor), to where she preferred to consume her self assigned snack (under the table).
One of her first jobs was as my fundraising assistant - official escort of the Saint Catharines Museum IMP (Important Museum Person) aka full-bodied papier-mache gargoyle capital campaign mascot, created by Diane Sharpe, and animated by yours truly. Thirty years later, my little sister has now become my consultant and mentor in art and museum development, education, programming and management.
Hats off to sister power! I remain honored that Adrienne chose to follow my footsteps into the world of museums and humbled that my sister continues to share her time, knowledge and experience with me as we work to extend the passion and power of culture and art into the lifelong learning routine of as many people as possible.
Just a few short words this month - early for a change - because they want to be said now. Here's what happened today at work. I was there a bit earlier than usual - it was my first day of tour listening and we knew we'd have a sizeable group to prep for. After a bit of running to and fro, a glint caught my eye and to my dismay, I saw a beautiful irridescent spotted butterfly fall to the ground just outside the replica of Fort Lauderdale's first school house. I froze in my tracks - worried that I'd inadvertently squished it. However, as my internal frames-per-second slowed down, I took the time to see what was happening in the micro habitat of this hopefully-not-squished butterfly.
To my relief and delight, the swish of my skirt had not squished the butterfly's guts out, but had knocked a recently hatched atala and its chrysalis - to which it was clinging - off the coontie plant that is their home. Upon further observation of the tiny neighborhood - I was treated to a beautiful surprise. What I had stumbled across was an urban neighborhood of #atala butterflies in both pre and post hatching phases of their life cycle.
These butterflies I knew were special because I had heard about them last year and how they are making a remarkable recovery from the brink of human - induced extinction. For anyone who's read my past work, interest in insects should come as no surprise. But to see a whole microcosm of atala life... with their beautiful sparkly wing spots and that remarkable red thorax... just a most incredible gift to witness. And I am so thankful!
Then after the noon day sun began to recede, I realized my second incredible gift of the day. I was standing on the boardwalk overlooking the wetland trail at Miramar Pinelands. As the soft shell turtles swam over and the waxing moon tipped over the shallows... I remembered that this too was an ecosystem in regeneration - restored to its historical contours and hydrological morphology as closely as possible. By returning the land to the way it was at the time of the first European settlements, the ecosystem has been able to regenerate itself - naturally returning turtles, fish, frogs, foxes, ospreys, even an eagle and untold numbers of insects... (See my Miramar Pinelands media set on facebook)
These two distinct yet comparable success stories in human conservation and restoration practices are just what the doctor ordered in my current, not-so-stress-free analysis of what we need to do to get back to basic respect of each other and this beautiful garden we have the luxury and responsibility to live in and care for. No matter how many cool space travel pics NASA releases, as humans, we are still bound to this earth in a trust relationship with our future generations that we need to seriously reflect on and start acting like responsible adults.
We may move slowly at times - but it is truly wondrous to see the fruit of an unfulfilled childhood dream come to life before your eyes - that is the miracle we call life unfolding around us each and every moment - if we just slow down enough to notice.
Yes, I'm a somewhat slow learner... not growing up a religious person per se, I'm just beginning to see the links between the Winter Carnival that I heard so much about in Quebec, the Saint Paul Winter Carnival we love so much, the Mardi Gras of New Orleans and Carnival of Rio and Trinidad that is now celebrated so vehemently in Belize, Miami-Broward, Toronto and throughout the Caribbean.
It's incredible to see the emergence of such amazingly vibrant colors and textures on incredible engineering designs expressing sailors, flowers, fire, birds, butterflies and bugs! Trinidad Carnival Queen Competition For the first time, I'm learning the history of carnival and connections to cultural, ecological traditions marking the scientific cycles of seasons change. Even the correlation between Valentine's Day and carnival traditions are surprisingly relevant to our increasing desire to play mas.
Agriculture. That basic necessity for food and water is at the root of what still drives our motivation to participate in community even today.
So in an effort to ensure that our access to safe and healthful food and water will improve rather than deteriorate, we take notice and action on current events and steps to the future. Clean water is one of those primary building blocks of life. Right now, it's our responsibility to clean up our mistakes, and train ourselves for a future that protects water as a basic right of humans and the natural world.
Obviously, besides air, food is the next basic element that we need. And to protect our food requires us to fully comprehend and defend the complex and interconnected systems that contribute to our ability to access safe, healthy food. Pollinators. Climate. Biodiversity. Hydrology. Harvest. Distribution. Seeds.
These are milkweed seeds. We brought them to last week's Martin Luther King Day Parade and celebration. Because these seeds represent a human decision to take action. In this case, action on behalf of one family to encourage others to replant this single source of monarch caterpillar food. That butterfly that is now endangered due to habitat loss and pesticide pollution. That plant ecosystem that once sustained aphids, ladybugs, ants and butterflies... that no longer exists as expanses of fields holding fuel for the seventh generation of monarch before their great annual journey south and north across this great continent... I remember those many, many monarchs... gathering like orange maple leaves changing over a frosty late summer evening on the north shore of Lake Ontario... And I intend to see the day when my children get to witness those monarchs en masse, following the cycles on a path to safe, clean food and water across the lap of our beautiful earth mother once again.
Each cycle is a transition... and life is a series of cycles... birth, growth, expansion, contraction, transition... and repeat...
Here's an oldie but goodie: "Reflections on the Reef" from Tobacco Caye back in 1998...
Thinking about that possibility of a multiverse - not the TV or satellite or gaming cube... but the mathematical, astrophysical, scientific concept of infinite universes...
Kinda makes sense, logically. And really puts a focus on how much our actions, choices and impacts really boil down to: what is it that is so important to me that I can make no other decision other than to take this path right here.
Subjective, yes perhaps. Lacking critical analysis... maybe. Considered rebellious by the mainstream population... most likely. But if we are careful to include continual critical analysis in our daily life habits, then the points at which we have the opportunity to take action will necessarily reflect an ongoing critical perspective.
Wellness is a state of balance that is constantly in motion... wobbling, either perceptively or not, between the range of possible extremes.
And so, we vow to continue on... and jump in to another cycle, with reverie, resoultions and respect for our own self discovery as individuals in relationship with families, communities, organizations and other individuals all over this beautiful land and infinite interspace...
It is upon us again... that time of year that comes with the official end and beginning of all things transformative in the subtropical paradise we know as south eastern Florida. Folks from the mid latitudes tend to think of this place as the South... little do they realize that perched on the edge of this peninsula... the trading happens in over 60 languages, across all seven continents, and if they were to look at their own achievement, health and equity gaps... they'd realize that the North is way more southern than south eastern Florida.
Photo credit: Yours truly
Nope we're more of a portal. The northern most tropical port in an interconnected continental divide that is rooted in 100,000 years of genetic memory carrying biological migration patterns that awaken in us like hormones in the endocrine system of a healthy young 12 year old. Like the karst and marine atoll topography thirstily absorbing minerals flowing south through the rivers, rivers of grass filtering out nitrogen, bringing in the memories of an ancient and distant volcano... if we sit for a moment and ponder... we realize we will never forget. Who we are. Who's come by. How we are related. What we must do.
Like every ant, beetle and spider, our ever so humble task:
Pass the torch. Continue the spark. Remember. Understand. Learn. Keep going.
Just a little stream of consciousness blogging this time - it's my birthday month after all! And that beautiful time of year when I get to enjoy avocados from the tree so generously planted by my mother in our almost non-existant back yard! It's amazing what you can grow, even with very little space. The eggplants that sewed from seed at the start of summer have blossomed all month, but not a single fruit. The leaves are beauties though - not sure why no one has them as houseplants! Maybe they're like squash and it takes a human touch to ensure pollination...
So many thoughts, so little time. One of the most exciting highlights of the month was seeing the bald eagle again across the street. Signs of hope. Hopefully. And of course knowing that we've entered a new era, according to the count of the moon. New is always good, at least if it's all natural - by the way, it may not be actually, if there's a label involved....
Okay, so now that I'm feeling all shy and embarrassed for providing a short glimpse into the raw, unedited mind of me... I'll close for now... Enjoy the beauty of the season!
Time and space as we know them have such special and interesting qualities when we look at them from the perspective of human memory, will and intention.
Timing is everything.
Chronology, the sequential count of units of measurement, is only one of the many characteristics that compose the observable concept of time. While this chronological sequence may represent points along a line, that line does not necessarily present itself in a linear form.
Reflections of my personal human condition are much more akin to abstract patterns that move like a honey bee tracking nectar producing flowers than a predictable geometric construction.
This month in particular I am experiencing an interesting array of "time warps."
The first was an announcement by the Belize Institute of Archaeology of the uncovery of what is possibly the second largest piece of carved jade in the Maya area at Nim Li Punit where I developed and curated the Visitor Center and Stela House exhibitions 17 years ago!
The second was a return to the summer camp classroom after a 24 month hiatus from educator duty, reminding me of how much I love to share my learnings with the young people beyond just my sons.
And finally, beginning to realize that regardless of how long it takes or how far we travel or don't, we each have the capacity to improve our skills, strengthen our families, and build our communities wherever we are because our human family is interconnected with all of life as we know it, and we are all depending on each other to be and become the very best of who we are.
Full moon tonight/ tomorrow. Perhaps it’s true what they say… that you can create the life you want for yourself. But I’m just wondering… is this a superpower we’re all just gaining access to? ‘Cause I think I can believe it, when things are going great. But when everything seems like it’s falling apart… I’m not so sure I possess this power. And I’m pretty sure my great, great grandparents didn’t want to see themselves in the midst of an apocalypse we now neatly box and label “slavery” in our tidy file cabinet of life and human history. Nor do I think it was the life intention of my other great grandparents to release a child into indentured servitude as a coal miner. This whole concept of “creating one’s own life” seems a little loaded given the hefty weight of history upon my life story…
But that in itself is something we do have the power to create. The way in which we choose to reflect, remember and recount our own life his/her/our-stories is something that falls entirely within our own grasp.
Our audience, our listeners, the other half of our circle plays as much of a role in the stories we choose to form, shape and weave into the context of a dialogue or monologue, prologue or epilogue as we ourselves have. Learning, sharing and growing is a cooperative venture… a reflection of the community as much as the individual or family. All of our voices are valid and necessary… each of our dreams need to be realized and our potential attained in order for our collective well-being to reach its maximum.
Perhaps, in retrospect, it is easier to identify those paths or practices that did not lead to the results we anticipated. In these cases, knowing and acknowledging what does not produce desired outcomes is just as important as knowing the steps to success. That is I suppose where exerting positive pressure on one another, like first aid to an open wound, is effective in encouraging each of us to take a step into the limelight, whether at the kitchen table, on the playground sand, or in the boardroom. We must hold each other to the task of finding, knowing and sharing our own truths – even when that means holding silence so that something more might be heard….
