Bio-domes?

Feeling overwhelmed by the state of the world. Egypt...GM alfalfa...global warming past the point of no return...everyone getting cancer...And by the state of myself as I struggle with the weight I put on by eating real food, like butter and homemade bread.

Felt inspired for a minute and possessed by a muse I barely recognized as I painted for four days until "Utopia" was done. It may not amount to much, but it sure was interesting painting it, getting lost in the zone. It has been a long, long time since I allowed myself the luxury of being spontaneously creative. I enjoyed it immensely.

Lost in fantasy, I dream of giant hoop houses that grow pure, organic, natural and uncontaminated alfalfa and hay for my goats and llamas. Each hoop house could have a bee hive to pollinate the plants, and the bees would never leave, so they wouldn't be poisoned by the chemicals sprayed over the new genetically modified alfalfa. Soon, if we want a garden at all, one that is not contaminated, we will have to grow it under cover.

That got me thinking about moving my family into the hoop house too. Why not? The plants, people, and animals could all live in a cleaner environment than our good old beloved Earth. What ever happened to the bio-dome experiments of the eighties? We could sure use that technology and research data now to survive our future.

Who builds bio-domes these days? Who has the knowledge to create a self-contained eco-system within a space that could house a family and their livestock? A ranch under plastic? Creates new meaning to greenhouses when you farm and live in one. This may be the only way we can grow safe, uncontaminated food for ourselves and our families. And, as the atmosphere continues to suck up mankind's poisons, wouldn't it be nice to have some clean air somewhere? A whole little eco-environment. Kind of like the Earthships, but on a grander scale. Every family would have to be self-supporting and self-contained in their bio-dome. If you eat meat, it sure would make you rethink your choices if you had to share your bio-dome with your cows. In a smaller space, those cow farts would add up quickly, creating a new bio warming right in the house you live in. Couldn't blame it on someone else then, could you?

You could grow your own food, and grains for your livestock, all within your bio-dome home. A little piece of earth, before humans destroyed the real thing. We could look out across the land and see everyone else, in their respective bubbles, trying not to contaminate their second chance home. Is that what my painting was trying to convey?

I do have to say though, as everything spins out of control, that I wish I lived in an earthen home--Earthship or Earthbag or old style, real adobe--something that would protect my family from the crazy heat and cold fluctuations we are starting to experience. That is the dream. Either we can retrofit this manufactured home we live in, by banking it with Earthbags, or we can find a spot to build a house that will survive the climate nightmares of the next fifty years. Maybe we can do both. Will the neighbors object to us building new walls of Earthbags around our existing walls? What about the town? Do we need a permit for that? It sure would eliminate some of our wind issues. Maybe we could just pull a giant piece of greenhouse plastic over our two and a half acres.

Maybe we should all retrofit our houses with Earthbags or rammed earth tires, or just turn those suburban tract homes into earth bermed structures....dump a mountain of dirt on one side (north is best...leave the sunny south side open to absorb the heat your going to need when our coal and gas powered furnaces no longer work). We have all got to rethink this mess and figure out how we are going to survive the climate change (heat and cold, massive storms, crazy wind, rising tides) and forget about government red tape. If I listen to the boys in charge anymore I am doomed.

It is time for a global revolution. It is time we stood up for ourselves and our right to life, as the current living beings we are. I'm not talking about abortion here. I'm talking about the people alive right now who inhabit the planet. Don't they have the right to go on living, to survive the mess created by the men in charge? Doesn't that entitle us to collect rainwater if that is our cleanest and cheapest source of water? I think so. Here in Colorado, it is illegal, but I'm done caring. The times they are a changin' and my family needs water to grow food and to drink. Screw the government and permits and farmers down the river who grow poisoned alfalfa and chemically saturated produce that they expect us to eat. No more!

This mama is mad, fed up and ready to jump into action to ensure the survival of her little ones. Maternal instinct is kicking in and the possibilities are endless for me to get involved and make a difference. Join me.
Help change the world. Join the revolution. Build a bio-dome.

When silence speaks

View from our Taos house

I came across some old photos of the house we built in New Mexico, and it really made me nostalgic for the days when I thought I was going to live in an adobe house, or in this case, old adobe barn converted to a house. It was a wonderful place, the old dairy barn from the hippy commune next door, the commune featured in the movie "Easy Rider." How much better could it get? I had the sage brush surrounding me and the Taos mountains looking protectively down upon our little homestead. It was so right, until it went so wrong.

Looking back, I can see the nudges from the Universe, the little whispers that told me it wasn't right, but I allowed myself to be pulled further into a shared dream and I couldn't see my way out of the rose colored room until I ran smack into a wall. Face first. Talk about a reality check. Things went from rosy and magical to downright depressing as our dream house turned into the house that couldn't be built. I began to attach bad feelings to the place, and saw signs everywhere that said "Get out! You don't belong here in this art community." I felt like I was being rejected by the great and mysterious Taos mountain. And maybe I was.

Only in Taos

We ended up back in Colorado, the black hole of my existence (it keeps pulling me back, no matter how far I go or how long I stay away), and a friend told me that perhaps the great mountain that I grew up in the shadow of was even more powerful than the one in New Mexico. Maybe. But I had no love for Pikes Peak, not like I loved the essence of New Mexico...the quirkiness, the heat, the snow, the mud, the environmentalists, the artists, the writers, the movie stars, the sage brush, the ravens and bears...all of it. I was so in love with a place that was more, it was a state of being, and it was me.

I spent years dreaming of going to the land of the lizard, the home of my spirit, and when I made it there, I blew it, pulled into a romance of convenience, of mindless existing, and my spirit stopped speaking. I spent the first year in Taos, wondering where my spirituality had gone, where the guardian spirits that used to walk along beside me, had gotten themselves off to. Everywhere was silence. It was the most beautiful place I could ever hope to be, and my heart sighed every single time I walked out the door of our little rented adobe house. When I looked at the sage, I couldn't help but smile. I was home. But it was too quiet. The animals didn't come to bring me messages, the wind no longer whispered, and the river's babbling was a foreign language to me. What had I done to lose myself in the land where I thought I was going to find it all?

I hated the silence. I hated that the Universe seemed closed to me. I wasn't meeting the right people and nothing seemed to be falling into place. But I refused to listen, refused to give up my dreams of latilla fences and adobe walls. Funny how it all works out and how sometimes we aren't given a choice anymore. I was being pulled away from the land of my dreams and back to a place I couldn't wait to get away from.

I still don't know for sure why I couldn't live in Taos, but I hope all of New Mexico isn't closed to me. I still harbor great fantasies about Earthships and sagebrush and quiet nights full of stars and clean air. I know this uninteresting house we live in now isn't it either...is it? And someday, maybe if I'm ever so lucky, I can return to the land of my heart and spend some small amount of my life hanging out in an adobe house in the middle of the high mountain desert, and maybe I'll even paint a little as I pay homage to the late, great Georgia O'Keefe, who understood and gave in to her love of the New Mexican, desert land.

Now I understand that the silence was the message, and if I had taken the time to shut up and stop looking, to enjoy the quiet and connect to it, I would have found a peace so pure it would have eliminated any doubt I was having about my connection to all things spiritual. For in the silence is the knowing--the greatness of the Tao, the power of the Universe, everything and nothing all wrapped up into one big, beautiful ball of wholeness. In the silence. By searching, I missed what was staring me in the face. And maybe it wasn't about Taos not wanting me there, but about my own closed mindedness, which the energy reflected out and away from such a creative and loving place. Or, maybe my Ego got scared of losing itself in the silence and created a situation where it could gain the upper hand by sending me out of such a spiritual and enlightened space.

One day soon, I will again attempt to venture south into the land where my heart lives, to see how it all "feels" to me now, ten years later. And I will remain open to whatever may come, even the blessed silence, for in that simple meditation of listening to the nothing, I can feel myself as I am connected to everything else. Maybe that is enough.

Adventures and dreams

Had a most wonderful adventure Saturday. Took the happy bus and the family to visit my Aunt in a little town about 45minutes away. She bought this property a few months back that has a cute little cottage and an enormous greenhouse. The yard has many grape arbors and a pond with a fountain. But the greenhouse is the most interesting part of the property. It has a kitchen and a bathroom, so of course she is staying there with her two little dogs. Her son is living in the cottage. The plants are thriving. So far she has an abundance of houseplants, but plans on starting vegies and flowers soon. It was great. The atmosphere was fabulous...warm, natural, cozy. It reminded me a great deal of the Earthships in Taos and the few others I have visited.

I have wanted to build an Earthship for many years because of the atmosphere, but also because they are self-sufficient houses, off the grid, with water collection systems, solar, and a greenhouse across the front of the house. It is a dream. Lately we are considering a manufactured home on some acreage. I'm afraid, like most of the projects here at home, R would never be dedicated enough to work on an Earthship. A manufactured home is finished when it arrives, or mostly. The best part is that it would be one level (I'm so tired of the narrow steep stairs to the second floor of our old Victorian) and cheaper than our current house.

Another option we have been tossing around is moving to another city a little south of where we are. The cost of living is lower and there is a development just outside of town that still has empty lots, which would work for a manufactured home. There are also finished homes that are selling for significantly less than anything in our town. If we could sell our house in the current market, that might work. We could get a bigger, newer, ranch style house for much less, which would help our finances considerably.

We need a bigger house now. I'm still trying to figure out where to put all of the children with the new baby coming. And forget about studio space in this house. Although, ironically I suggested hiring someone to finish the basement room and R spent a whole day working on it. It's getting closer to being done, little by little. I've been waiting two years. It was supposed to be done before the baby came...the first baby girl. Maybe for the second baby.

I dream of studios and Earthships and not having neighbors so close. I dream of greenhouses (but not to live in) and rose gardens and room to roam. Maybe there are more adventures to be had. At least there are some new dreams now.