Foundry/forge

[rebeccmeister]

I finished reading Hope's Edge yesterday and have progressed to Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, by Barbara Kingsolver. She begins by describing her family's move away from Tucson, explaining how she feels about the fossil fuel-based technologies that have caused a city to spring up in the middle of a generally uninhabitable desert. [we must scratch out a living on borrowed water and food, which lends our lives a certain hypocrisy] I'm inclined to agree. I can live in such a place for a while, but eventually the unreality of the lavish lifestyle in the middle of a desert is going to catch up with me and I, too, will want to move back to a place that isn't parched, somewhere where I don't feel like my mere existence comes at such a cost to the natural world that we depend upon.

This morning, I'm pondering Biblical stories of prophets who traveled out into the desert for reasons of spiritual growth. This theme of wandering and isolation comes up periodically as one looks through the Bible, and also through other mythological stories (trickster figures especially must wander). There's this sense that those persons who come through and fundamentally shake up our lives also have some je ne sais quoi that can only be met through isolation or deprivation away in an extreme environment. It contributes to their mysticism, I guess, their need to be somewhere all alone, doing things that we'll never know of or even understand, things that will never be remembered except through the act of leaving and returning. They toy with our sense of inscrutability.

I would never claim that that's the case for me with living here, although there are moments when I feel like I've come to the desert to be forged into something different. When I go back up to Seattle it feels like plunging into a cool pool of water, and my life takes on altered meaning in that context. At times it feels more real to be there because of the extended history of growing up among my family and childhood friends. There are also the ancestral ties to the area, to Montana and parts of Washington. [when I consider cowboys, my mind will forever travel to Montana]

I'd like to be able to think of my time here in Arizona in something closer to the above terms--not as an extravagance, but as a shaping event, something that helps me clarify the message of my life. I suppose at times we all need to feel like we are part of a larger drama.

Comments

[sandokai.livejournal.com]

It's interesting how in previous books Barbara Kingsolver writes about her love for the desert and her joyous adventures gardening there; in a way it makes me sad she would decide to leave it, but she does have a point there about water.

I grew up in New Mexico and I often long for more rain, lakes, trees (endless trees!) Here in southern Florida there's rain and trees and no need for sprinklers, but it doesn't feel more natural or right to live in, perhaps because it is so hot.

What you wrote about the prophets is fascinating because I think it's true on a less religious level. Even the writers/poets often admired (and frankly, the bulk of people I've fallen in love with) have that same quality of somehow representing and often having spent much time living in a kind of spiritually defined solitude. Is the draw towards that somehow cultural (since our society is not very communal and tends to value "independence") or does it go deeper than culture?

[zinniazayda.livejournal.com]

I've been wanting to read that book, but that part would break my heart. I love Arizona. It's a hard place to live for the young and idealistic, as you know, but it is my home. I think the barren beauty of the desert is often underappreciated by people from other parts of the country. I want to believe that people can live in the desert in a way that doesn't come at such a cost, to trade the joys of living among these incredible and diverse landscapes for a little luxury. But maybe even that is unrealistic. Maybe there are too many people there now and even if they used water wisely, it would be too much. I hate to think that by living in the land I love I would be adding to its destruction.

Yeah, this post depresses me a lot.

[rebeccmeister.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry that it depresses you. I feel like someone like you has more of an entitlement to live here than I do, though.

And I agree, that the beauty of the desert is underappreciated by people from elsewhere. That much is obvious from the number of green lawns, and how often people close themselves off from the outdoors in air-conditioned buildings and cars. I really love the subtle and not-so-subtle beauty, from the panoramic sunrises and sunsets to the smell of creosote after rain to the quiet movements of ants through the landscape.

It seems to me like there are a number of ways that people living here could at least reduce the level of hypocrisy associated with their lifestyles--be more conscious of water use, reduce dependence on fossil fuels, etc. In the very least that would be a step in the right direction. For many of us who feel more at home in areas capable of supporting more people, we can choose to respect the fragility of the desert by leaving it to those who feel more strongly tied to this place. I think that was probably closer to how Kingsolver was feeling.

It's easy to feel depressed about the situation, but being in denial about it would be worse, I think.

[zinniazayda.livejournal.com]

You're right about that. Arizonans, and desert dwellers in general, do need to keep in mind the realities of where we live. We cannot pretend it's temperate and rainy, and if we try to duplicate that kind of environment instead of appreciating the one we have, we cannot be ignorant of the consequences.

It disheartens me that the state's culture is so much the opposite. Growing up, I knew that the majority of people around me felt that the desert was a wasteland made bearable only by air-conditioned cars, swimming pools, and sprinklers. I think that you are more entitled to live in Arizona, if that were what you wanted to do, than many Arizonans, because you choose to value the desert, to acknowledge its fragility and to care for it as best you can. I feel the same about Barbara Kingsolver... as activeimagine said, her love for the desert comes through very strongly in her other books. She did feel strongly tied to it, and it makes me sad that the desert lost yet another such person.

I wonder what would happen if Arizona were more like the Pacific Northwest or Minnesota, where valuing the natural world and working to protect it is so much more the norm. I think that a desert is, for most people, harder to like than a forest. They think desert land is expendable, something that can easily be bulldozed because there was nothing much there to begin with. I wish they knew how alive it was.

I wish I knew if Arizona was, for lack of a better word, savable. To what extent could we become less dependent on outside food? To what degree would reducing water use help? Could we revamp the truly horrible design of most cities that makes dependence on fossil fuels almost inevitable? If all the people who care about these things move to greener pastures, so to speak, the desert really will become a wasteland.

[rebeccmeister.livejournal.com]

I would also love to find out how self-sustaining Arizona could become. It has taken me a little while to learn about local cuisine here, but as I learn about it I'm delighted by the foods that can grow here that don't grow in cooler climates--things like tepary beans and tomatillos. It takes a bit of work to adjust to how to grow things here, but there's still some delight in learning those lessons.

There are also a few groups in the Phoenix area who are trying to go against the tide, as well as a number of people who are getting interested in expanding our farmer's markets or participating in Community-Supported Agriculture. I see these alternative food sources as at least small sources of hope.

It's also useful to learn that the land here that has been converted from farmland to housing generally uses less water--so in many cases, we're moving in the right direction.

But there's a lot of knowledge yet to be acquired by us outsiders. I feel like I've gotten to appreciate the desert a lot more as I've learned how to accommodate my lifestyle to it, and I can only hope that more people will learn to adjust to the different seasons instead of running to crank up the air conditioning.

Along those lines, I have to continue to ask why there isn't even more solar power than currently exists here. We've got that at least!

[earthlingmike.livejournal.com]

I'm guess the isolation just makes them more into an iividual, gives them time to think, and gives them more confidence in themselves.