urban

Explorasaurus.

| Betsy

Lately I’ve been wandering around a large yet small city with my camera and incredibly uncomfortable shoes. I’ve enjoyed the whoosh and burst of air that hits you down in the Metro, sunsets over monuments, visiting museums, dancing to old 90s music, dudes that give someone elderly their seat when they teeter totter on the Subway, and long walks with coffee.

The lovely mix of politics and punk, messenger bags and Prada, suits and skateboards has been a total delight to explore. Of course, there have also been not-so-lovely moments, scraping a Secret Service car in Georgetown (getting them to laugh when I asked if their little secret pins were like “flair” was pretty sweet, though) and angry people in the Metro when there was a fire and lots of smoke.

Here are some photos from the past few months, including lots from the 9.12.09 Tea Party where I went to see if their DIY signs were good or not. Personally, I found the majority of the posters either incredibly offensive, misspelled, or misinformed. The reason for my delay in posting these photos? A few days after the rally I discovered some of my relatives were there. Honestly, it took me awhile to try and understand why our views could be so different. At the rally and on the train back to my car, all I heard was hate, hate, hate. Dissent? Go for it. But hatred? There’s no place for that if you expect to have a dialogue and not a shouting match.

[ETA: The above being said, however, there were signs at the rally that were based on fact, not conjecture! Those signs? Sing it! My reactions were based on the anger I saw arising (from listening to a man tell his 4 year old that the government were crooks, to shouts about “commies going to hell”) in the crowd. Seeing so much anger in a public space was personally shocking, although our right as Americans to express disapproval is one I hold dear. For the people upset about what’s going on and voicing their opinion? Again, go for it. Just keep anger out of it. And before you stand up with a sign, it’s always a good thing to know why it says what it does. It’s your chance to state your voice, why not make it properly heard? Let what you carry provoke conversation not anger, understanding not yelling, and dialogue not diatribes.]

Believe what you wish, just be informed as to why you believe that way. What I don’t understand is, why is everything boiled down to religion this “we’re right,” “they’re wrong” dichotomy? Maybe I’m wrong, but aren’t the tenets of love and acceptance found in every religion? If so, how can you honestly say you’re doing God’s (or Allah’s or Jesus’ or the Buddha’s, etc) work when you’re speaking in anger?

The shots here are waiting for a bus with the awesome Through the Eye of the Needle, Metro seats, my Secret Service repaired mirror, and a Tea Party shot. You can see them all over here.

Yarn Bombing, Craftivism, Knittivism… It’s All Just About Making Life Prettier.

| Betsy

The other day there was a story about “yarn bombing” in The Vancouver Sun. It resulted in numerous comments, either praising or criticizing these public acts of crafting. It’s amazing how people have to get either really excited or really pissed off to comment on newspaper articles. Six in one, half-dozen the other, it’s “What geniuses! The toast of the town!” vs. “What kind of crazy art school dropouts made this crap?” It makes you wonder what all the people who were too non-plussed to hit the “Comment” button thought while reading it? Call me a dreamer, but I’m thinking they thought it was pretty cool, too.

But I digress.

I think the article missed a very important point surrounding all of this. These knitted cozies and covers are also tokens of love to the cities and towns that they grace. They are emblems of creativity finding its place among the concrete jungle, and artifacts of thankfulness to the streets we walk down or the lamp posts we pass each day. Our city is ours, not the domain of someone up in City Hall or in the Chamber of Commerce.

While maybe not noticeable at first, cities, like us, have pulses and beats and soundtracks. London sounds different than Cairo, Mumbai moves to a different beat than Milan. Some small mountain towns run on the sounds of snow plows, while others on the steady sound of tourists.

Make your city your own again, and see what it has to teach you. And once you listen and learn a bit, think again about public acts of crafting. These items are more than something to cast aside, they are our tiny thank yous to our towns, cities and hamlets. They are thank yous, they are makeovers, they are love letters.

Suggested Reading:
Walter Benjamin’s The Arcades Project
Anything by Jane Jacobs
City A-Z: Urban Fragments
Sharon Zukin’s The Culture of Cities

The photo, taken from the article, is from the upcoming book, Yarn Bombing.