Vacuum Brain

Not recommended as a way to move through this time

A new habit: I leave my tech devices in my home office after 8 pm so I am not tempted to check the weather or my schedule on a particular day and then my old habit has me clicking on an icon without thinking and I end up flowing through the rapids of social media with no lifeboat. It’s not a good way to calibrate one’s nervous system in the midst of what seems to be a TechBros coup, fueled by Christian fundamentalists and immature grifters and liars. I can’t control what brutal schemes they have up their sleeves in D.C. or whatever these unfeeling goons have chosen to stink up their lairs, but I can control what I take in and what I share here.

I get up pretty early these days; it’s dark and peaceful. My housemate is respectful as she/they gets up even earlier to get to school or work, and closes the door to my bedroom before going in the kitchen so I can continue resting. I am grateful for this living arrangement. When we are both in the kitchen at the same time, it’s like a graceful dance. Since we first met on the dance floor over year ago in Olympia’s Five Rhythms community dance, we have both been dumbfounded by our good luck. Good boundaries, good rhythms, good conversations, and good company.

For the first time in a long while, I’m having vivid dreams, so I write down the intense images that remain, and then, read in bed for a bit. My morning ablutions allow me to stay clear of my devices for at least an hour, but once I open a few windows on my screens, I find myself falling into a pit of vipers sucking at my well being. Responding to emails and texts is not the problem. The problem is the speed at which cruelty is occurring in the collective sphere - it is beyond comprehension. My brain vacuums all of this up; the challenge is to treat the overwhelm with all the tools I’ve been cultivating for decades, rather than letting the vacuum get clogged. It’s tricky business when fascism is unleashed full throttle.

Recommendations: put on some music (Motown works easily for me), dance around for a bit. Shake the stress out of your body as best you can. Crying and screaming are good medicine, too, and then call some friends. Hatch some under-the-radar actions. Plant some seeds. And don’t forget the message of this painting below created in 2021-22 whilst Bob was going through chemo. It’s the largest painting I’ve ever made on canvas, and I can’t take it down from my studio wall. It’s essential to my well being.

I am off to my two-month artist residency at the Santa Fe Art Institute tomorrow. I am going with a sense of foreboding and excitement. I am thrilled that I get to be in conversation with a diverse group of artists who do socially engaged art in community. I have very few of such peers here in the Pacific Northwest, so this will hopefully be a much needed injection of inspiration. While I am truly honored by the invitation to be in their company and with the opportunity to collaborate and more, the recent shocks to my nervous system have made me want me to stay close to home. So I have to ask myself: To what end? So that I can be in my own bed when the next terrifying decision is made? I can carry my inner frightened child wherever I go, and reassure her as best I can in the midst of this mess. And I will endeavor to help others find the strength and courage in the projects I am hatching now….I’ll share more about the latter when I get settled in Santa Fe.

For now, I want to share a few links of things that might offer some encouragement and guidance. Sarah Van Gelder (of YES! Magazine fame) posted this substack yesterday with the title: How we rise together - and how we win: Beyond the grief and overwhelm, we have the power to build a better world. This podcast from Solarpunk Now! is an interesting interview with Matthew Azoulay about how to navigate “Collapse” “As solarpunks, we have to consider the possibility of collapse. Matthew Azoulay–aka EpicTomorrows–introduces us to collapse awareness, a view of the climate crisis which accepts the inevitability of societal collapse on some level. We'll hear a bit about his forthcoming book, an anthology of global perspectives on collapse, as well as how this view might fit within a solarpunk perspective.” I was particularly interested in what Matthew had to say about the influence of the Institute for Social Ecology where Bob and I taught “Activist Art in Community” from 1991-2003. Matthew was a student there after we had moved away. And two fellows who defined themselves as solar punks went on to teach cultural work at ISE during the Pandemic, and ended up inviting me to be a show they organized in Lexington, Kentucky (of all places) for the SolarPunk Surf Club. I’m still learning about this movement, and encourage you to listen to other episodes of that podcast.

I could share much more, but I have to finish packing (I’ve had little practice in packing for two months so I’ve been preparing lists for weeks).

Stay strong everyone….I hope to offer online courses again in April - the last series seemed to be a great success, despite being in a very experimental stage. I’m grateful to the dozen or so people who joined me in the virtual space; they made the raw edges come alive.

So much is unknown right now. I am entering these next moments with curiosity and presence. One thing I can count on is that I can hug a tree when all else fails, and breathe.