i should be where people are not

i need to be where people are not. i'm on the verge of a cold, achy and crabby and a bit foggy in the head. everything and everyone is very irritating, the internet, facebook, my family, the needy cat, the less needy cat, the totally independent cat, a crazy woman who knits with yarn she's stuffed up her lady parts (i could go on but i'd like to give you a moment with that image in your head)...

my energy is sapped by the sunday market. tho' our space is limited and we only had space for a dozen sellers, so much work went into it - setting up (i was not only selling my wares, but i also was one of the organizers), making things, preparing, doing everything i could to make sure the other sellers would be happy with their spots. we had ads in the local paper two weeks in a row and still, very few people came and those who came, weren't really in a buying mood. i think everyone sold some of their work, but i think everyone also wished they had sold more. and while not all of it was my taste, the quality was high. lots of christmasy floral arrangements involving candles and bits of greenery, but homemade goodies as well.

but the most energy-sapping aspect wasn't not selling as much as i might have liked, but it was a general bad atmosphere. we managed to get it a little bit on track in the afternoon thanks to some spotify christmas music lists, but it was a long few hours before i managed to lure husband out of the woods (literally, he was out working on the trees that fell over in a storm last summer) and have him deliver the iPod HiFi to me. and i can't put my finger on what it was...too many people with the same type of items was a factor, and they spent the first hour or so sitting and glaring at one another. the lack of music was a factor, as was the lack of crowds. people didn't feel comfortable going around, looking, when there weren't very many people and everyone could hear everything they said. danes are generally shy with people they don't know and so those who came hurried around, looking, eyes averted, not wanting to talk to the sellers if they didn't know one another.

a number of people admitted out loud that they weren't going to buy anything, but were just gathering ideas so they could make things themselves. yes, really. out loud. i mean, we all think that, but to say it outright to the people who worked hard to make their wares seems a little mean. or at the very least, thoughtless. but it was that kind of day and that kind of atmosphere.

worst of all is the lack of cooperation within our little community. we tried to schedule the market to coincide with the arrival of santa and the lighting of the christmas tree on the square (which is organized by the local commerce association). when we scheduled the market, they were on the same day and then, funnily enough, the local commerce association changed the date to the day before. they did something similar with our market late last summer and tho' i'm certain it was more a lack of communication than malice, it does begin to feel a bit like the latter. would it really kill them to communicate and coordinate?

so my energy is gone. i don't want to be a pessimist or give up on organizing these types of activities (for the sense of community, even more than commerce), but it is disheartening. tho' i'm normally full of ideas for the next steps and what to learn from such experiences, i'll admit this time i'm all tapped out.

maybe a person shouldn't try to over analyze with a cold coming on...

* * *

and speaking of craft and community,

why do the craft sessions have to be so far from my hemisphere?

missed opportunities in vejle kommune

here's what they ended up with as the last "kulturhus" they built.

oh, the joys of bureaucracy. and small minds. and small thinking. it's enough to make a girl want to just throw up her hands, tear her hair out and just ask, "why, why, why?" (and that last bit isn't just because i've been listening endlessly to paul simon's graceland in the car.)

we chose our falling down farmhouse at least in part because it was located in the outback of vejle municipality (more like a county in american terms), but it was still part of vejle, which made it seem less like the back of beyond and more part of the real world. vejle (population 51000) seemed like a happening place, progressive and successful and not all THAT far into jutland (the bit of denmark that's actually attached to the continent). but the more i encounter this municipality, the more i realize we really had the wrong impression of them. or perhaps vejle is changing, becoming increasingly small-minded and afraid to dare anything - i think that crisis will do that to some places and if those in charge aren't strong and full of ideas, well, things disintegrate a bit and devolve into increasingly impenetrable bureaucracy that seems to be lazily circling the drain. it's arguably true of the current national danish government as well, so vejle isn't alone in their lack of big thinking.

but let me back up a little teeny bit: as you know, denmark is proud of their welfare state, but financing it is becoming, shall we say, a little bit problematic. it's all well and good to be generous to those who are out of work, but when unemployment rises, there's suddenly quite a LOT of those people and it's a big burden on the system. so there's a whole lot of talk every day in the news about how to stimulate growth and create jobs and prop up that welfare state.  there are special "acute jobs" advertised (the government promised 12,500 of them last autumn). they are for people who have been out of work for more than 2 years and the company who provides the "acute job" will get paid a bonus if they still have the employee after a year. it's kind of like affirmative action for the long-term unemployed.

another thing the government talks about is creating jobs in the public sector by initiating infrastructure projects and building things like "culture houses" out in little towns on the far flung edges of the municipalities. so the process as the bids were let for our coming culture house was quite surprising to me in light of this.

the project was officially let on EU terms (oddly, not with the intention of applying for EU funds for it, which i would have thought would be the reason). since denmark is (to a limited extent anyway), part of the EU, it meant just following the EU bureaucracy surrounding the bid process around public projects. i also (mistakenly again) thought it would mean that the project description would be provided in other languages than danish, to truly open it up to the whole EU, so that there might be an influx of fresh ideas from abroad. wrong again. it was an EU bid, but only in danish (so good luck to anyone not happening to speak/read that minor language) and only advertised locally.

but worst of all, in view of the way that the government goes on and on about how the economy needs a kick start and people need to start businesses and create jobs, was that the requirements on the experience front were so extensive and long, that no companies but the largest, oldest, most established could possibly bid in on the project. completely excluded were the young architects who might come with fresh, amazing ideas, just out of architect school. completely excluded were new companies (and new ideas, i fear). it was, in short, a direct suppression of the entrepreneurial spirit by the very government that's purporting to want to support it.

when i dared to bring it up and point out that we were actually excluding young entrepreneurial talents, i was assured by our dear friend the tender manager (you may remember her from this post), that the big firms would engage them, so we would still benefit from their talents. no supporting evidence was provided to back up this statement. and i'll believe it when i see it.

so, out here in the sticks, we are going to have a new "culture house" and it's going to be built by some old, established firm who has built 10 others and it won't be unique, or special or give some young architect a leg up in his first job. and i think that's a shame. but apparently there's not so much action behind all of that government talk about supporting entrepreneurs and creating jobs.

* * *

meanwhile, elsewhere in the same municipality, the little museums have all been consolidated under one big bureaucratic umbrella. this has left some of the little ones, like my favorite one in randbøldal, to be run largely by volunteers, who do an absolutely splendid job. an active group of weavers and paper-makers ensure a wonderful, relaxed and welcoming atmosphere, as well as events - like a historical market and a second-hand market. it is a real haven.

but recently the big central museum decided they needed a bit more control over the place, so they began sending out a young woman (who has the curious (and slightly alarming) title of formidlingsleder - literally "leader of dissemination") to meet with the volunteers. sounds like a title that would have fit right in in nazi germany, don't you think?

the volunteers have, for ten years, had a big array of projects which they have done, finding money for them themselves by applying for various grants and to various charitable foundations. for example, they've just released a book featuring ten years of their tea towel designs and they have created an absolutely lovely little museum shop that is filled with handmade goods, artfully displayed.

the replica of egtved pige's dress (one of those well-preserved danish mummies) used to come to randbøldal for the winter, when the little building at her gravesite is closed. i say used to, because as you recall, her dress was stolen late last summer. so these fearless and conscientious and ambitious volunteers in the weaving group decided to get in touch with the textile artist who had created the replica (the real one is safe in the national museum in copenhagen) and work with her to weave a new one to display at the grave and in randøldal in the winter. they did extensive research and were even working with someone who had special, traditional sheep for the fibers, so they could spin wool that would be as close as possible to the original.

i'm using the past tense, because the leader of dissemination put a stop to it (and they weren't even being asked for funding) - in a very confusing and not direct way (it's typically danish to be afraid of conflict and pretty much a national disease among danish women) that left the weaving group feeling very bad indeed. she later sent a mail wherein she explained that it had been decided that an expert with a degree in reconstruction of ancient textiles would be engaged to make a new dress (because those are a dime a dozen in denmark and surely won't cost anything). remember, the real dress is safe and sound in the national museum, so they are being denied the opportunity to make a well-researched replica (which is precisely what the one that was stolen was). and the woman who made the original replica was a dancer who did dance performances as egtved pigen, so not an ancient textile expert. what a silly decision, don't you think?

* * *

so where is it all going wrong? i think that both are instances of very limited thinking. there's no room for imagination and ideas and creativity and solutions and definitely no room for initiative. and i think our world is going to become a sadder and poorer place for it. we need open minds and open hearts and open thinking. but how on earth can we have those things today?

a question of trust

trying to fit in another's frame doesn't work for me

last evening, the schoolmarm character in the farce that has filled my recent weeks, righteously gave me a lecture about trust and how i needed to trust in systems and processes and the people around me (this isn't the first time this happened). she offered no supporting evidence, save tradition, that trust was warranted and i have numerous examples where i can see that trust has neither been earned nor deserved.

for me, trust and openness go hand in hand. when a group is teeming with hidden agendas and secret alliances, there is a distinct lack of openness. when one member is repeatedly left off emails and action lists, one has to begin to wonder if it's not being done on purpose. once might be an accident, twice some serious forgetfulness, but more than that and it begins to look like chicanery. i suppose that many would give up in the face of such treatment (and schoolmarm more than hinted yesterday that i should consider that), but i'm not many. and i'm stubborn. and the project itself - the establishment of a place in the community that will house not only a new library, but all kinds of activities - creative workshops, atelier space, theatre, film, exhibition space, concerts, events, music, readings, lectures and maybe even a café - feels worth it. because i want to live a place where all kinds of things are happening and to have a place to go that feels welcoming and open to a wide variety of people and activities. i want to learn ceramics and jewelry-making and maybe try to paint. i want to hang out with creative people and be inspired and for the community to have a place where that's precisely what happens, well, i think that's worth fighting for.

what's odd is that a small group within the small group that has been elected to this task is very closed and insular. they want to keep the project to themselves. they don't want to hear the wishes of the community. and it's very odd, because several of those who are the most closed are not users of the current facilities - the troglodyte actually goes so far as to disparage the activities that are happening there today. apparently not realizing that it will be the same sort of activities - concerts, lectures, film evenings, like-minded arty folks who paint together, theatre - that will happen in the new (or renovated) facilities.

is it any wonder i don't trust the motivations of these people? why on earth get involved if you're not passionate about the project itself? i will continue to question and yes, think for myself, and yes, hold onto my suspicions until i can see that everyone involved wants the best for the project. because that's definitely not clear right now. there are issues of alliances and power (as laughable as that sounds in this small town context) involved that are not easy to see through.

i don't need to be popular, i just need for people to treat differing opinions with respect, rather than bullying. there must be room for all of us. and once that room is made, then trust might follow. but until then, i don't trust them any farther than i can throw them.

there's a new troglodyte in town

never underestimate the bitterness of the losers of small-time local politics. nor frankly, the bitterness of the big-time national sort. i've read things in the past week that would make your toes curl. but this is about the local sort.

the local group that i became part of back in june, has a website that's in its baby, infant stages. i say baby, infant stages, because websites take time. you can't have everything there all at once. for one thing, that would be dumb in terms of google searches (we're already dumb enough in that area, as our website name contains both the word "give" and the word "live" - just imagine how the google algorithms down-prioritize those common words) and for another, it takes time to build up content. stories take time to tell. it's the nature of stories. and projects. and life. and websites.

one of the few things we can put there, because we know it at this stage, is a little mini-bio of the board members. since in denmark, like most of the world, one is where one works, my profile includes a reference to my company. sans link, i might add.

this evening, a few members of the group received a series of mails from one of the bitter folks who wasn't elected that evening back in june, complaining about the "advertisement" for my company on the site. the mention in my profile is no more an ad than the two who work for the local schools mentioning them by name are advertisements for the schools. or the treasurer who mentions the business she works for (her husband's business) or the chairman, who mentions having his own architect firm. we are where we work, so i can see nothing wrong with mentioning that. and i have to say that it pretty much pisses me off to be accused of advertising for doing so. it seems you're damned if you don't say where you work and damned if you do.

what do you think? is it an advertisement to include your work information in your profile on an association website? or when i answer an email question about the site and my automatic signature includes my phone and workplace, is that out of line? these are my contact details, so i'm easy to reach. is that really out of line?

danish has a great way of describing a guy like this...his shoes are too small. way too small. 

community building takes passion and hard work

i think a lot about community-building these days - both in a work and a volunteer context. this summer, when we were visiting the little town where i grew up, we had a chance to visit the local museum that volunteers are setting up there.

it's housed in a building at the north end of main street. i can't really remember what used to be in there - perhaps it was a garage that belonged to a car dealership? (it's been awhile and my memory is increasingly like a sieve). but that doesn't really matter.

what matters is that the community has come together to create a little museum, showing mostly what the town used to be like (as museums are wont to do). there are beds from the local hospital, mailboxes from the old post office, uniforms from hometown boys (and girls?) who have served in the military over the years, tools, machinery...

there are areas which replicate the local drug store, a local grocery store - which was still open when i was a kid, a home, the local newspaper (which i know a little something about) and they had just begun putting together an exhibit featuring the local jail.

there are all kinds of things which make you feel nostalgic, from bicycles to a horse-drawn carriage, to machinery, tools and even a lovely doll collection that a local family has curated and shared.

local artists have done murals depicting rural life across the decades. the town itself became a town in 1900 when the railroad came. a number of buildings were moved to the end of the railroad line from little towns in the area and platte was incorporated.

i can remember from my childhood that this linotype was still in use. i can picture my mom sitting at it, typing away. not too long after, they updated to some compugraphic machines that she had at the house in a back room. there were two of them (they're not at the museum) - one where she typed everything in, creating a long, yellow punch tape, which was then fed into the other machine, which created the set newspaper columns, which were then waxed and stuck to the page to be burned as plates and then printed into newspapers.

but the old-fashioned way, with type cases and heavy boxes of letters, was still the way it was done within my own lifetime and even my memory.

i do wish i'd learned now to run this press, because people are making beautiful things these days with such machinery (not that i'd be able to check it on a plane and get it to denmark very easily). i can actually still hear the sound this press made, just looking at it, and smell the smell of the ink. all kinds of posters, letterhead, cards, etc. were printed on it when i was a kid. it still works and could be used. if i lived back there, i'd learn how to do use it and do demos at the museum.

here's dad standing next to some of the machinery at the museum. i have a clear picture of him in my head from my childhood, standing up inside the press, fiddling with something or other, covered in ink. it must have been pretty frustrating for him when things weren't working, because he's not really much of a mechanic, but oddly i don't remember much swearing.

that big heavy, marble-topped wooden block table in the middle, i clearly remember standing at, stuffing inserts into the paper, the smell of ink in the air.  i rode countless times in the stationwagon as a kid when my mom drove every wednesday to nebraska to have the paper printed in o'neill before a cooperative printing plant was built closer to home. all those miles on winding roads with bags of freshly-printed newspapers in the back, bring back memories of being carsick and even today, if i take a deep breath of newsprint and ink, i still feel a bit carsick.

another display is of the local pharmacy - eastman drug. it was open when i was a child and the owner was the one who never let me live down calling myself snow white at the random bible school that time. i always dreaded seeing him because he could never forget that.  best about eastman's was that it had an old-fashioned soda fountain, with stools and ice cream and malt machines. that was awesome. there should be more of those around.

for me, eastman's was far more the soda fountain and far less about medicines, tho' looking at the bottles and boxes on the shelves in the museum is fun to see how far we've come. i wish packaging was still romantic and simple like it was, instead of how it is today with so much waste.

i also clearly remember little graff's grocery, run by mr. and mrs. graff. my grandmother liked shopping there best, because it was sweet, small and personal. grocery stores today don't feel very personal and you feel like you have to rush in and out as fast as you can, with your cart loaded to the gills. there was no room for carts in the aisles of graff's.

everything i love from antique stores was reflected in the model home - with an icebox and a big retro stove, wooden ironing board, hurricane lamp, nostalgic dishes. tho' i feel nostalgic when i see these things, i am grateful we have the kind of washing machines we have today.

so as i work on building communities around a new school and a new culture house, i think a lot about what it is that makes communities function. and every time it comes back to the people who are involved. danish has a great word for them - ildsjæl (fire souls) - people who are passionate, driven and care to get things up and running and keep them going. they're hard working, but they are driven by a sense of really caring. every community project needs a number of those.