The Thought Kitchen is our effort at collective inquiry and its power to affect change. Have you ever noticed how the party is always in the kitchen? There are more walls to lean on and people are energized by the proximity to food and drink. Well, welcome to our kitchen, where we hope to tap into everything we love about that feeling—community, vivacious exchange, food for thought.
There’s this band called MGMT (pronounced Management) and most of their music sounds like a debaucherous 3AM party soundtrack, but I was listening to their song “Kids” the other day and I heard these lyrics:
“Control yourself,
Take only what you need from it.
A family of trees falling,
To be haunted.
…
The water is warm,
But it’s sending me shivers…
…
Decisions are made and not bought
But I thought this wouldn’t hurt a lot
I guess not…”
My interpretation is that these guys are talking about sustainability, global warming and considering the consequences of our actions, so that there will be something left for the “kids” in the future. I could be wrong. Whatever the meaning is, it’s a pretty good jam for a Friday.
It’s kind of a given that the people working at Nau have a passion for the outdoors: skiers, bikers, surfers, climbers and paddlers abound in our ranks, and when our team clocks out at the end of the day, many run (literally) from town to do something fresh and physical. But it came as a happy surprise to me that so many of the people I work with have separate creative lives outside the office. Among my immediate coworkers I have found authors, illustrators, photographers, painters, filmmakers and dancers.
Six months ago, when Eugenie invited me to a performance she was part of called “Endless Ocean Endless Sky” (playing in Austin, TX this weekend), I didn’t quite know what to expect. Choreographed and produced by Tahni Holt, the website for the Portland production was mysterious and poetic. The story, it seemed, was a collection of vignettes 100 “moments” long. Since only ten audience members are allowed in the performance at a time, I made sure to reserve a spot early. Read on »
Photographers observe, explore, and comment on the world around them with their lenses. The best of this breed of artist create images that are approachable, clever, aesthetically pleasing, refraining from trying to bash you over the head with their work’s meaning. Like the saying goes, “Walk softly but carry a big shtick.”
As both a photographer and appreciator of this art form, I’m constantly amazed by people’s brilliance and insight, especially when their work deals with environmental issues in subtle and clever ways.
Below are a few of the artists that have influenced my own personal work; the last two images, a landscape by my boyfriend Kevin Malella and another by yours truly, are our own variations on this theme, presenting both the sublime and the surreal in respect to our changing environment. The interpretation is up to you…
Oh Canada – My Home and Native Land – Announces the Largest Land Withdrawal for Protection Ever in Canada
A few years ago I had the good fortune of paddling the Mountain River located in the Mackenzie River Valley in the Northwest Territories. That adventure inspired a trip that is currently in planning. I depart on June 27th for a two-week paddling trip on the Snake River in the Yukon. Those trips and others like them, combined with the fact that I’m Canadian, have engendered a life-long interest in wilderness preservation.
That’s why I read with interest the Canadian government’s announcement about the creation of a new national park. It’s called Naats’ihch’oh, which in the Dene language refers to Mount Wilson, a major landmark in the area and means “pointed like a porcupine quill.” The plan is to convert 25.5 million acres of northern boreal forest into a new national park and wildlife protection areas. For those who are counting, that’s about 11.5 times the size of Yellowstone Park.
The boreal forest comprises a band of trees about 1600 miles wide that spans across much of Canada – just below the arctic tundra – and continues in northern Scotland, Scandinavia and Russia. Large numbers of migratory birds and waterfowl make their summer home in the boreal. It’s also an important habitat for grizzly bears, dall sheep and woodland caribou and its trees are believed to play an important role in offsetting the rise of greenhouse gas emissions. It’s also excellent news, given the accelerating industrial activities such as the Mackenzie Gas project (including a proposed pipeline down the Mackenzie Valley) and unprecedented uranium exploration east of Great Slave Lake.
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the idea of inspiration. Where it comes from, when it arrives, how it is born. Like many, my earliest and most powerful source of inspiration was the outdoors. Recently I’ve been reflecting on the literal source of these feelings: the first place I discovered them.
This weekend I visited my family in San Diego, where I grew up, and went for a run on the cliff trails at Torrey Pines State Reserve. It’s a place I have spent countless hours in since I was a child, exploring and discovering the quiet wonder of the earth. While I think of it as a profound spot, it was not until this trip that I realized how important it was in my development of a relationship to the outdoors. Read on »
I killed a bird on the way home from the beach. There was no way of avoiding it. It crossed in front of my car quickly, emerging from the snowy bushes on the left shoulder and flying madly toward the other side of the road. I didn’t have time to react—to do so anyway would have put my family’s life in danger on the icy mountain pass.
I heard the small thud and looked in my rearview to see feathers flying and a black dot in the lane behind us.
I felt bad.
When I told my wife what had happened, it spawned a conversation about the cost of doing the things we love. We talked about the gas used to get to the ocean and my petroleum-laced wetsuit and toxic surfboard. Was the negative impact I had on the environment worth the positive impact the environment had on my life through surfing? Read on »
The Big Apple welcomed Nau with open arms last month, and I’d like to thank everyone for all of the excellent recommendations. While I didn’t spend much time getting to know the greener side of New York, I did spend some time getting to know New Yorkers. On our last night in town a server told us that New Yorkers who visit Portland are never the same. Here are a few things I learned while visiting New York:
1. Shoes. It’s all about the Shoes.
2. If your eyes are open, art is everywhere.
3. Don’t miss a beat or blink an eye when the wildest thing happens right in front of you. Take it in and keep moving.
4. “Lanes” are relative.
5. Eating anything less than amazing food, regardless of the time or your budget, is totally unacceptable.
6. While politeness has its place, being direct is so much more efficient.
7. Women’s clothes look just as good on Men
8. There is a reason why the restaurants name is “Peep”.
9. Respect moving vehicles. They do not, and will not, stop or slow down if you step in front of one.
10. Always look your best because when you least expect it, you could bump into an old college crush. It’s a big city, but a small world.
I’m at that stupid age where all your friends decide to get married at once. You know how it is: where you get to pretend that you LOOOVE pink silk bridesmaid dresses (I do love it, Rebekah!) and that you are excited to celebrate unity and togetherness ad nauseum by flying around the country for frantic three-day visits. Being the nerd I am, I’m not actually concerned about retaining my mental sanity in the midst of the summer of love. Honestly, I’m concerned about my carbon emissions.
Seriously. I bought this plane ticket a few days ago and was offered the option of, for $5.99, purchasing a one trip “TerraPass.” Apparently, with my four trips this year, I am using 129 gallons of fuel, and producing 2,527 lbs of CO2! TerraPass offered me the option of paying to offset these appalling numbers and using that money to fund wind farms, landfill gas capture, and the like. These seemed like worthy causes so I paid my carbon dues for the flight, but I still felt sheepish and slightly evil about flying in the first place. Read on »
Last year I wrote a post about a lecture I attended by Carlo Petrini who is the Founder and President of Slow Food International. It was quite a remarkable evening.
In the current issue of Metropolis Bruce Sterling, one of the more provocative and prescient thinkers of our time, has written a biting critique of the Slow Food movement in which he says, they’ve “…become a global movement to combat globalism,” and argues that it’s a movement that serves the elite.
An equally strong and entertaining rebuttal immediately appeared on the Slow Food USA blog written by Chef Michael Friese.
Walking through my neighborhood, I came across a wooden post near the sidewalk with a small case at its top. Inside the box frame, there was a poem called “Bird Watching,” available to anyone who might be walking by. I was impressed with the work, especially a part that asked what the point is of bird watching:
What is the point
of spending precious time
and hard-earned dollars
to wander the globe, only to learn
that someone has gobbled up
the nesting ground,
or filled the marsh,
or paved the meadow,
or poisoned the pond,
or clear-cut the forest,
or built a boundary wall
at the river’s edge?
There’s this band called MGMT (pronounced Management) and most of their music sounds like a debaucherous 3AM party soundtrack, but I was listening to their song “Kids” the other day and I heard these lyrics:
The 
Last year I wrote a 