At Rewild.info we endeavor to stay anchored in the sounds and images of what we want to create together. This thread stands as an example of this; please include on the forum, in general, as many images, photos, videos, and sound recordings of what you see in the renaissance happening right now, and around the corner. If, additionally, you see/hear something that especially inspires you, either post it here, or "blog it" by checking the "blog this" box.
Like flower up from the soil it sprouts Like apple out from the branch it shouts Is the Folk-song for man and woman But people know when it will perish
So, let the chord out from the heart gleam! And let us sing and let us dream! Here is so much that drag us down! The black dreams and the loss of town.
But come with tunes from the native birthplace And let us sing in an ancient pace And let us sing without a book That sheet-music-song thinks it's so wise!
At any given moment, in any part of the world, there is a deep wholeness that exists there. This is the structure of the whole: the largest and deepest physical configuration that is present there. It can be felt and seen.
The most fundamental way to treat the land - whether it is an open field, an existing village, or a street in town - is to respect what is there, protect it, continue it, and make it better. Heal it. Make it more whole. The great towns and villages have always been built this way, and it is this process which gave them beauty. The deep seeds of structure run through the place in its geometry, its colors, its smells and its sounds. It takes skill to preserve and extend these. It requires loving attention to what is there...
The unfoldings on this website guide you in the process of envisioning, diagnosing, planning and building on your physical site, always with the purpose of extending wholeness -- the basis of a living neighborhood.
http://www.livingneighborhoods.org (Christopher Alexander and crew, authors of the books A Pattern Language, the Timeless Way of Building, and the Nature of Order)
"The city of Detroit has a very strange, wild appearance, in some parts like a city of ruins many years older than it actually is, where nature reasserts itself in vegetation that spreads over the city’s crumbling structures."
Here's two poems from me, Flow and The Laughing Storm. They came to me when I was listening to powerful music - Datura by Tori Amos and Storm by Björk. Both poems are a celebration of this world and the beauty and might of all its spirits/gods. They also tell about how to rewild - how to stop battling against the sacred flow and to let ourselves be carried, hurt and healed by it, to be carried in the arms of all the other spirits who together are a power much stronger than us, to rest in our nature (in two meanings), in humanity, in innocence.
FLOW
To rewild is to
let your dam break
the river wants to flow, the woods want to spread through the concrete, you want to come out of the small place inside yourself where you have snuck to feel safe
The whole world is singing, the whole world is flowing
through you
the world is a river and you are a current, a swirl inside a bigger swirl inside a bigger swirl to not let go, to not let the current take you, is to hold back, to lie - you can never control anything, and you can never avoid pain
and you will die, after which you will live - after all, it's just changing shape
relax and fall
die and scatter
you will feel pain. but even through pain, you will always be loved by every being who is not afraid to be river
because flow is life is celebration is love for me, you, us, them I
a laughing child spirit is swirling in the flow
THE LAUGHING STORM
I have learned to love storms what greater passion? the tearing gusts, the rage of the wind the rain falling on you sharp and heavy, the waves of the sea crashing high to the rocks
the sky roaring and blazing white fire
the storm turns around the earth and the water and the sky it throws you like a speck of dust and you will die
but to feel the storm is to feel a pagan god shout and shriek and laugh and dance her eyes gleaming large and wild is to feel blood in your veins is rage is ecstasy
Slate is a staple of rustic cooking in France and in Andorra, where Mr. Ripert grew up. The traditional method, called pierrade, involves heating a thick slab of slate over an open fire, though now most pierrade cooking is done on a timid tabletop appliance that has all the excitement of a toaster oven. But Mr. Ripert said the slate tiles could be used over an open fire on the grill or in the fireplace to cook almost anything: steak, poultry or fish.
"Where Are Your Keys?": the Language Learning Game A viral, open source game that totally revolutionizes how we learn and teach any skill. Students learn teaching, teachers build community. Everyone mentors.
The band Resident Anti-Hero is committed to an ongoing development of a contemporary mythology that is both politically aware, and soundly folkloric. Through the use of music, extended metaphor, and storytelling, the duo offers an in-depth narrative encompassing issues of world politics, environmental awareness, social justice, survivalism, and sustainable living. The fictional world of Resident Anti-Hero and the Anti-Hero Underground is intended to be an ongoing mythological journey, exemplifying and critiquing the world it was created within.
Tatak Ng Apat Na Alon is an organization dedicated to reviving the traditional cultures and tattoos of the Philippine Islands. Tatak Ng Apat Na Alon Translates to Mark of the Four Waves, a reference to the "waves" of immigrants who came to the Philippines over many millennia. The influence, both good and bad, of each of these waves has combined to create the islands' culture. Tatak Ng Apat Na Alon intends to resurrect the positive, repair the negative, and move into the future while keeping their roots firmly planted in the past. "A people without knowledge of their history and culture are like a tree without roots," says Amang Hanuno'o, Tatak Ng Apat Na Alon member. Our ancestors are the roots on the tree of life, and all the branches tell their stories. The leaves are our parents. We should all support each other as we grow and reach towards the skies, but so many of our generation are like seeds that have not been watered."
Doug Elliot: Sharing the Passion of Nature through Storytelling, on The Art of Storytelling with Children. Casually mentioned throughout this interview: "Wild Man" Steve Brill, Jon Young, Joseph Campbell, tracking, "dirt time," knitting native stories together with European stories and your own experience, all in a conversation about how to recover the stories in the landscape that knit together family and land. All around one of the best hours of audio I've ever listened to.
In 1942, a pregnant cow has escaped into a forestry in rural region of Manisa, Turkiye. With all efforts of villagers, this cow didn't return back. Now in that region there is a feral herd consisting of some 1,500 individual. They are threatened by illegal hunters and now under protection.
I got Mari Boine's album a few days ago. She blends traditional Saami yoiks with jazz and rock. Besides sounding awesome, that fusion itself seems really profound to me.
"There are things I envy about the Hadza—mostly, how free they appear to be. Free from possessions. Free of most social duties. Free from religious strictures. Free of many family responsibilities. Free from schedules, jobs, bosses, bills, traffic, taxes, laws, news, and money. Free from worry. Free to burp and fart without apology, to grab food and smoke and run shirtless through the thorns.
But I could never live like the Hadza. Their entire life, it appears to me, is one insanely committed camping trip. It's incredibly risky."
The things in the first paragraph lead me to an entirely different conclusion! At any rate, I envy the writer for having had that chance to spend time with them.
Re. the Hadza: not to be a downer or anything, but I read the article and... let's just say that eating baboon brains is a real good way to get prion disease and turn your own brain into swiss cheese.
Brain and nerve tissue is like nuclear waste. You do not want to eat it or get it in your body or you can die a really nasty miserable death if it has prions. And like nuclear waste, you can't detect the danger with your senses and you can't cook it to make it safe. You have to use a high enough temperature to denature all proteins in the meat, which basically burns the meat to cinders. If you get it on your tools, you have to put them in fire long enough to burn off every last trace.
Look up "bovine spongiform encephalopathy."
This isn't only a disease of civilization and domesticated cattle and sheep. Elk in North America have their own version of it, so it's probably also in the deer herds. One of the skills we need to develop is to prepare wild meat without contaminating it with brain/nerve tissue.
My instincts tell me the spread of prion diseases is yet another side-effect of climate change, as with the increase in ticks and Lyme disease, and mosquitos and equine encephalitis.