First art show! All set up at the Boylan Heights Art Walk in Raleigh this afternoon.
Cleaning out my study—sorry, _studio_— I found a bag of handcrafted items I seem to have purchased in past years as Christmas presents but never distributed, and I cannot now figure out who was supposed to get them. “Keep them!” you might say, but I really don’t need a stuffed-animal purse.
Happy Thanksgiving! If you’re interested in foodways, folkways, and weird alleys of American history, you may be interested in this series I wrote back in 2011 as an offshoot of some research on (mostly) 19th-century food and cooking, which I called “The Thanksgiving Issue.”
I love a hickory tree in November.
Experimenting with more complex (and naturalistic) composition. At 8”x10” this is probably the largest carving I can make from a single panel. I like the birds in this one, particularly the little guy at lower left.
Nine markets in thirty days starts tomorrow. Here’s the skinny if you’re local.
Farmers like Abebe Moliso, whose family land in the Ethiopian highlands became severely degraded from years of monocropping, overgrazing, and slashing the forests in the pursuit of new productive fields, all of which radically changed the local climate. The more he and his neighbors farmed, the less they grew. As the rains vanished and temperatures soared, the topsoil hardened like pavement. They eventually had no option but to stop farming and let the land heal. Supported by a food-for-work strategy developed by the World Food Program and the Ethiopian government, Abebe and his neighbors began terracing their gently sloping land and digging shallow water pans to collect rainwater whenever it came. They nurtured the growth of natural grasses to reinvigorate the soil and planted trees that would provide shade and falling leaves to cover and protect the ground, absorb carbon from the atmosphere, and stir the precipitation cycle. They also embraced crop diversity by adopting traditional crops, including hardier, more nutritious varieties that had been orphaned by modern agriculture demands.
After nearly a decade of healing, the natural allies were resurrected – springs and ponds reappeared, pollinators returned, insects and microorganisms multiplied to nourish the soils. His farming operation benefited too, with a diverse array of vegetables, fruits, and grains now flourishing in his fields.
With Agriculture Facing a ‘Great Collision,’ More Farmers Seek to Nourish and Heal (The Daily Yonder)
Work in progress
You little electrons will go places I can only dream of
