Walden5

I’ve been reading Bill McKibben’s book Deep Economy and was inspired by his experiment of trying to eat only foods that came from near where he lives for an entire winter. In contemplating whether or not I could survive on foods produced only in northeastern Connecticut, Rachel, Milo and I set out on a recent Sunday to explore local food production.

I was feeling doubtful that we could realistically satisfy a balanced diet, but was pleasantly surprised to return with a decent bounty. Our best discovery was the Meadow Stone Farm in Brooklyn, CT. They produce raw goats’ milk, cheese and various skincare products. Annemarie lured us in with an array of cheeses to taste. We washed this down with fresh cider and a taste of the milk they produce. I was expecting it to be kind of earthy and, well, goaty. But the milk was some of the most delicious I’ve ever tasted. Smooth and sweet but without being overly rich. I hadn’t known this but goats’ milk is also popular with mothers as a supplement to breastfeeding. We wound up buying some milk, goat cheese and some awesome Wasabi Chevre.

From the goat farm Annemarie directed us to Lapsley Orchard where we bought Macoun and Macintosh apples, winter squash, corn, fingerling potatoes and cider.

So we have access to dairy - goat milk and goat cheese. We’ve also been buying eggs from a local self-service farm stand. I’m going to contact the owners to see if they’ll still be providing fresh eggs through the winter. There seems to be a steady supply of winter vegetables and we could stock up on apples, cider and local preserves to cover our fruit needs. There are some local vineyards that we can explore soon.

I think our next challenge will be to see if we can find someone who grows and mills grains locally. Some beer would also be nice.

So after a fun day we came home and cooked a great semi-local dinner of fried fingerling potatoes with rosemary and lemon, fresh corn and veggie burgers from Trader Joe’s.

Milo and I built a quick and dirty composting bin for our kitchen waste. Living in Brooklyn, NY it is difficult to compost kitchen scraps. This kills me because kitchen waste accounts for so much of our overall waste stream. Even though we encounter have cockroaches from time to time, there are ways to do urban composting indoors or in small outdoor spaces. I honestly (and guiltily) just haven’t found the energy.

Anyway, we’re lucky enough to be living in a small house in rural Connecticut for the next few months and it seemed like a perfect opportunity to build a compost bin. Just trying to incrementally find ways to live more intelligently.

Steps for building an easy composting bin:

1. Dig a hole. The hole should be about half as deep as your bin (15-20 inches in our case). Ideally you’ll want to site your hole in an area with good drainage, close enough to your house for easy access and in an area with good sunlight. If done correctly, the compost bin shouldn’t smell, but you may want to choose a site a little ways from your home in case it attracts animals.

1. Drill some holes. I drilled 3/8 inch holes all over the bottom and lower third of a galvanized metal can which I purchased from a local farming collective for about $30. In total about 20 holes on the bottom and 20 more holes on sides.

(Optional, test out the percussive qualities of your bin)

1. Plant your bin. Next we stuck the can in our hole and pushed the soil back in around the sides. We even transplanted a couple of small ground coverings to make it look nicer.

(If desired, re-test the percussive qualities of the bin)

1. Start composting. I put down a layer of “browns” (brown leaves, shredded paper/cardboard) to get things going. I also tossed in a couple of worms that we had dug up. This step isn’t necessary as worms will find their way in through the holes. We collect our kitchen scraps in a container and about once a day we add this material to the food digester. Don’t forget to secure the lid tightly to keep animals out.

Composting recipe

The general rule of thumb is to alternate layers of browns (carbon rich) and greens (nitrogen rich). There is some debate about the exact proportions of browns to greens. Chopping up larger pieces of material helps to speed up the process. Mixing the bin every couple of weeks introduces air which builds heat in the bin and increases the rate of decomposition. The pile should be moist, but not wet (think brownies). The rate of compost depends on a lot of factors but should take between 6-12 months depending on the temperature of your pile and how quickly you add material.

Compostable materials

Browns (carbon rich)

• brown leaves
• straw
• shredded paper, paper towels, napkins
• shredded cardboad, egg cartons
• small twigs
• grass clippings, weeds
• hair and lint

Greens (nitrogen rich)

• vegetable scraps
• fruit, peels, rinds
• coffee grounds, filters, tea bags
• grains, pastas, and breads
• eggshells

Do not composte!

These materials will create odors and attract rodents

• meat, fish, poultry
• cheese and dairy products
• oily foods, cooking oil
• butter
• any animal products
• pet/human waste

Also, try to avoid items that might introduce toxins into your compost like treated woods or other materials with strong preservatives.

I visited this place on June 17, 2008.
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After driving off the highway for sometime along a sequence of roads that became decreasingly trafficked and gradually less paved my GPS finally chirped, “You have reached your final destination!”. I had? I was on a dirt road, next to a driveway that winded away behind some tall trees in the middle of farmland. No signs or indications of an artist community or of any life at all for that matter. Then, up the driveway a bit, I caught sight of what appeared to be a sculpture of a chicken. Emboldened, I turned my car into the driveway.

After wandering around for awhile, I happened upon a guy (or maybe he happened upon me) and he called for Ed.

Ed is the director of Art Farm Nebraska and he was gracious enough to spend some time telling me about the residency program he’s building and to show me around the farm.

I asked my first question:

Q: What is Art Farm?
A: Paradise :)

He said this with a grin. When I asked him to embellish he said that Art Farm Nebraska is his contribution to “alternative agriculture”. He also said this with a grin and seemed to be making reference to the eco-sustainable-green-organic-alternative frenzy that has hit this country. But in all truth, Art Farm Nebraska and some ways in which Ed leads his own life add an interesting layer to the notion of sustainability and how the art world might intersect with ideas of the local and the global.

The Art Farm lies on 60 acres of land, half of which is still farmed (by Ed’s nephew) for corn and beans to provide revenue for the artist residency program. The other half of the land houses a variety of studios, housing and installation/performance spaces as well as a large sculpture garden. Ed grew up on this land.

Residents are provided free accommodations and studio space in exchange for 12 hours of work each week (3 hours x 4 days). The program attracts artists internationally for 2-3 month residencies.

Art Farm Nebraska embodies several interesting aspects of local and global trends. Many of the structures on the property have been “rescued” from the surrounding environs - often purchased for a few hundred dollars and then relocated by flatbed truck. As such, the grounds act as a kind of archive of local architecture. Although, the archive is living and breathing as the structures are slowly renovated at the aesthetic whim of the artist work force. The main building itself is an architectural mashup of sorts incorporating parts of 4 different barns into the original farmhouse. Local building materials and equipment are also rescued and recycled - both into the renovation work and as raw materials used by the artists in their projects.

Ed recounted a funny anecdote to me about a time that he was at the Brooklyn Art Museum and struck up a conversation with a few women in one of the galleries. When they found out that he was from Nebraska one of them immediately asked him if he knew about this place called “Art Farm Nebraska”. Ironically, Ed pointed out that most people in Nebraska don’t know that the Art Farm even exists. Despite this, the residency program brings together artists from around the globe.

Like many farms in the US, Ed’s crop choice (corns and beans) is driven by government subsidies, available equipment and other effects of Economies of scale. Despite a relatively small acreage, his farming decisions are made largely at the whim of farm equipment manufacturers and the global food economy.

Ed also spoke humorously about the irony and unfortunate relationship between the language he has chosen to describe this project - residency, work, farm - and the current culture of fear that we live in. He regularly has to coach foreign artists on using the right language when speaking with immigration and homeland security officials to avoid setting off red flags and visa problems. With all of the controversy over our immigration policy these days, “residency” has become a bad word.

The Art Farm is a perpetual work in progress. At the time of my visit (June 18, 2008) there were no heated buildings yet, so residencies occur between June and November. A writer’s house is currently being renovated and will eventually provide support for 4 winter writing residencies. The main building offers a dark room and wood shop and plans to support metal working and printmaking are underway.

Ed and his Art Farm are situated at an interesting conflux of global and local issues. Ed himself leads an interesting life. In the winter months, when it is too cold for art production on the farm, he often does work exchanges in Brooklyn New York. He’ll trade his carpentry skills by doing custom furniture design and building renovations in exchange for room and board. He strikes me as some kind of migrant art laborer - a product of the global art market. I appreciate how he does not cast off global as bad and local as good - but rather integrates the two into a pleasant balancing act that seems to approach the challenge of sustainability in a meaningful and pragmatic manner.

I visited this place on June 18, 2008.
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The MDRS Hab has 6 rooms. Each room has its idiosyncrasies and no room can really claim to be the best. Some rooms are too cold, some too hot, some are smelly, some are visited by mice, some have tall bunks, some are noisy, etc. etc.

The door to each room is “tagged” by its past inhabitants. Each crew member leaves behind a patch or badge of sorts which is taped to the door containing their name, crew number and perhaps a graphic or picture or quote etc.

I stayed in room 5.

I thought that I might initiate a new ritual and in this spirit left a binder behind. I hope that it might act as an archive or capsule for thoughts born in this room. In thinking about the future of space travel and possible (inevitable ?) settlement of other planets and moons, I hope that we as individuals and we as a civilized people will look backwards to history as we look forwards to the future. In addition to designing new habitats and new EVA suits, we will also have the opportunity to rethink and design new laws, advance human rights and implement better ways of governing.

What do you think Martian society should look like? What can we learn from history?

To kick things off I included in the binder the story of Biosphere 2 (a cautionary tale - watch those CO2 levels), the UN Declaration of Human Rights, some NY Times crossword puzzles and bar of chocolate.

I hope that you will continue to add to this binder (and comment on this website) in any way that you like: jokes, thoughts, stories, data, pictures, artifacts, recipes, etc. are all welcome.

On to Mars!!!

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