Recently in Books and Films Category
m o r e (coming clean on chemicals)
Slow Death By Rubber Duck: The Secret Danger of Everyday Things is a quirky yet ominous title for a book that will get you thinking. In it, Rick Smith and Bruce Lourie, two Canadian environmentalists, give the lowdown on the ominous chemicals that have come to define our age and their impact in a quirky way: by exposing themselves to chemicals and then testing their bodies.
It may sound more extreme than it is though--after all, we're exposed to crazy toxics everyday in every way it seems. They just made a deliberate effort for a few days to do common acts that come with doses of synthetic substances like eating tuna fish, getting a carpet cleaned, drinking from cans, using personal care products, and eating from plastic containers. That kind of everyday stuff.
Both their personal experiment and their years of experience and research demonstrate this: There are chemicals lurking everywhere from socks and underwear to frying pans to baby bottles to sofas to light switches to food and food packaging to televisions to toys to deodorant and shampoo. And those chemicals show up later, in our own blood and urine, in arctic animals, in fish, in our land and water.
And the most susceptible among us are babies and kids.
The seven deadly chems Smith and Lourie looked at:
Phthalates, Teflon, PCBs, Mercury (a non-synthetic metal), Triclosan, 2,4-D (the herbicide), Bisphenol-A (BPA).
I won't divulge the results of their tests, but it was an amazing read and ride tracking these pollutants and learning the true cost of chemicals.
The news is not all bad!
The authors have super recommendations about keeping toxins out of your home, life, and bloodstream here. And I concur that small actions can make a difference. By not using antibacterial soap, for example, you're not exposing yourself or loved ones to Triclosan and you're, in your small way, telling the major soap companies you're not interested in those products.
But the fact is that these chemicals are so pervasive and in so much stuff that they simply need to be regulated or banned altogether. And chemical companies aren't hearing that--in fact, they're thinking of new ways to douse and spray and treat things with them. So we need to speak louder. By reading this book, by spreading the word, by making choices at the store, and by telling the government we care about the lasting, detrimental effects of deleterious chemicals in everything.
A few resources to get started:
Center for Environmental Health
And now, for the giveaway!
Simply make a comment on this post by Monday, April 26th at 3:00 p.m. (PST) and I'll randomly pick a winner to get a copy of Slow Death By Rubber Duck. (I've read it once so it's not pristine, but it's in almost perfect shape.)
Tammy Strobel writes the blog Rowdy Kittens for "people who are living simple, authentic and uncluttered lives." Or who want to move in that direction. It is always enlightening reading.
As is her e-book, Simply Car-Free, in which she showcases so much great information on how much simpler life without a car can be. She includes nuts and bolts like must-have bike gear and how to avoid being smelly after a cycle-commute to work along with inspiration about how much money you'll save and health you'll create by opting for two wheels.
She's speaking from experience--she's been totally car-free for two years.
Here's what she had to say:
What was the final deal-maker in the big decision to sell your car(s)?
We sold our cars for two reasons: financial worries and we weren't using them enough. We shed our cars over a period of two years and it was one of our best financial moves. I didn't realize how much our cars cost until we seriously started considering going car-free. By selling our cars we've saved about $16,000 per year.
When we finally sold our second car we were still living in Davis, CA. I started a new job in Sacramento and began taking the train to work. The monthly costs to drive into the city and park my car were outrageous. So taking the train was a fantastic option. I was able to read or do work on the ride and then enjoy a beautiful morning walk to the office.
I wish I would have considered that option previously. I could have saved a lot of time and money.
What encouragement would you give someone who thinks, "No way, I could never say goodbye to four wheels"?
I said something similar a few years ago. I would encourage folks to push past their fears and give two wheels a try. Start off by doing a test run. For example, you might consider doing all your grocery shopping by bike or NOT driving within a 5 mile radius of your home.
You suggest ditching the car can actually connect to following your dreams. How?
Excellent physical and financial health are two reasons that I'm able to pursue my dreams. Selling our cars enabled us to pay off our debt and save a significant amount of money. If we still had 2 cars and $30,000 in debt, I would still be working in a cubicle.
Thanks to selling our cars and downscaling our lifestyle, I was finally able to start my own small business.
Has opting out of car ownership brought balance to your life? How so?
I didn't realize how much stress I was under until we sold the cars. They took up so much time and money. Plus I had gained a lot of weight because I drove everywhere. By biking around town, I've lost about 15 pounds.
Selling our cars and downsizing our lives has given us balance. We are more likely to travel, spend time with each other and pursue our hobbies. I'm not in such a hurry anymore. Rather than rushing from place to place, I'm savoring the details of life.
Favorite biking moment?
When we lived in Davis and Sacramento we spent a lot of time going on long bike rides (between 20 to 50 miles) on the weekends. Taking long day trips by bike is a great way to see natural beauty and relax. I'm looking forward to similar trips in Portland. The surrounding area is beautiful!
You can check out the book for yourself, as I did, if you're considering going car-free. I'm not there yet myself (still a one car/one scooter/ 2 bike partnership), but even if you're more like me and a car-lite kind of person, there's plenty of good stuff to help navigate daily life more simply, with fewer wheels.
m o r e (ocean action)
The End of the Line is now out on DVD and I watched it over the weekend.
While I'd already heard that current fish stocks would be in true collapse, over the brink of ever coming back by about 2050, seeing the film with all the details of how and why that's playing out is well worth it. I feel like I always say this about documentaries I recommend, but I'll say it again: see this film!
There is one main point: there will be no more fish in the sea if we keep overfishing the way we do. The ocean is not inexhaustible (even though it's vast--so are the glaciers and so is the atmosphere, both of which can be depleted and polluted).
The depths behind that point:
*In 2002, scientists figured out fish stocks had been decreasing since the 80s, but through misreporting, they'd missed it despite local lore everywhere of diminishing supplies.
*Bluefin tuna has declined by 80%.
*Long lines used in commercial fishing could cirlce the globe 550 times.
*Trawling nets could fit 13 747 airplaines inside them and the bycatch brought up on deck, and then discarded, dead, like sponges, coral, sharks, and fish, according to one man interviewed, "would make an angel weep."
(I was first introduced to these techniques in Sharkwater.)
Commercial fishing, which we've been doing since the 50s (the same time all that plastic and chemical agriculture went big), is out of control. We're catching too many fish. And sometimes choking out local fishermen in areas where fish is crucial to the diet and livelihood.
The problem is a combination of the fishing industry's overzealousness for profit, poor regulation (which is often ignored anyway), a lack of consumer information--the usual big business as usual. And fish farming isn't the answer either. It has its own pollution issues and since they feed small fish to the farmed ones being raised, it's a net loss of fish stocks anyway.
Get more information on the science here.
The answer? Charles Clover, who wrote the book before the film says, "It's doing something about it time."
1.) Only buy, order, and eat sustainably caught fish and fish not endangered. That means no more bluefin tuna on one's sushi plate!
2.) Tell politicians you support fishing regulation.
3.) Support the creation of more marine protected areas. Less than 1% of our oceans, which cover 70% of the globe, are currently off limits to fishing. It's not enough.
There is the question of the people who make their living by fishing, which is hugely important. But we'll have more fishermen (and women) in years to come if there are limits set now. Otherwise, they'll all be out of work pretty abruptly.
As you probably know, the Monterey Bay Aquarium's Seafood Watch program is the best source for what and what not to eat when shopping a grocery store or sitting down to order. Seriously, you can print out a PDF or get the app for your iphone or memorize your favorite fish that are on the good list. I've only been eating sardines for some time now and loving them!
There's a guide for sushi too.
"'Best Choices' are abundant, well managed and fished or farmed in environmentally friendly ways.'Seafood to 'Avoid' are overfished and/or fished or farmed in ways that harm other marine life or the environment."
Here's the list for all regions, but you can get more specific too.
You can also look for the Marine Stewardship Council seal.
And at fish2fork, you'll find a restaurant rating system so you can support restaurants serving only sustainable fish (and/or speak out to those that aren't). I only found three in the database in Los Angeles (one with a horrid score, one with pretty good), but you can also "rat on a restaurant" or give a "chef a pat on the back" too by reviewing a restaurant.
Here's to getting more fish in the sea for generations to come.
Photo credits: End of the Line & Wild Ocean Blue
m o r e (sporting your own water bottle)
Leave it to Annie Leonard to follow up The Story of Stuff with something else fantastic.
Now it's The Story of Bottled Water, the tale of manufactured demand (aka companies making us think we need to buy bottled) and the problem with all those plastic bottles and what they're full of.
I'll stop now so you can see it for yourself:
Doesn't it make you happy to filter your tap water and sport a SIGG (or some other reusable)?
What do you think?
m o r e (real small films)
While I haven't seen The Hurt Locker (only heard good things), I was happy to hear that the first woman ever was awarded the best director honor at the Academy Awards last weekend. It turns out two of my favorite directors are women. There's Susanne Bier (if I only count her Danish films--like After the Wedding and Open Hearts).
And there's Kelly Reichardt (pictured).
Two films of hers in particular, Old Joy and Wendy and Lucy, are the ones I've seen and have stuck with me.
Even not being a dog person, I was incredibly moved by the relationship drifter Wendy had with her dog and completely engrossed by her experiences and desperation at the possibility of losing her.
These movies are different from mainstreamers and even other indies, really slow and quiet. They are both a sort of road movie, which I already have a soft spot for. They are small in scope, and they feel like meditations--on friendship, on being stuck, on moving on, modern life and on our interdependence.
And the shots of both natural world and mandmade are beautiful and captivating.
Here's a trailer for Old Joy:
And here's the site for Wendy and Lucy if you want to take a peek; trailer found here.
Finally, an interview with Reichardt about W&L.
I highy recommend them both. Enjoy.
m o r e (truth be told)
I was lucky to see the Oscar-nominated live action short films this week (living in L.A. makes things like that a little more accessible) and they were all excellent--really strong entries this time around. Heavy too--one was about Chernobyl, another something I won't reveal in case you see it. One Swedish entry though was simply hilarious and light and luckily it came at the end of the screening, for some comic relief.
And while it wasn't my absolute favorite pick per se, one that definitely caught my attention because of the poignance of its subject was Kavi.
Kavi is a young boy in India who, with his parents, works at a brick kiln where they sleep in tiny quarters, do back-breaking work, and are told they have a debt to repay that keeps them bound to the boss. This kid wants to play cricket and go to school, but it isn't in the cards. Until one day...
It's astonishing that modernday slavery exists and exists in such numbers:
27 million people are enslaved today in one form or another.
It looks like the easiest way to see Kavi now is to buy the DVD. And I assume the whole lot of them will be out at Netflix in the coming months. (A loosely related documentary I saw a few years ago that's widely available is Born into Brothels.)
According to Kavi's website:
"Bonded labor, a form of slavery, often occurs when people are tricked into taking loans from creditors who have no intention of letting them repay the loan. The creditor then uses violent intimidation to keep his workers slaving with no hope of escape."
And there are links to anti-organizations if this is an issue you'd like to explore further and support.
A book I haven't read but have heard good things about is Disposable People: New Slavery in the Global Economy by Kevin Bales.
And it does happen in the U.S. and it is connected to our everyday lives, like the tomato pickers in Florida who were forced to work and treated terribly.
Finally, at Made by Survivors, you can support people who have made it out of slavery and help them maintain an income by buying their wares (the felt/kids items are especially nice).
m o r e (nature-inspired young readers)
Last year, my husband told me about the only books he enjoyed reading as a kid. All of them were adventure/nature types. And then I read them and could see why they were so captivating to a kid in the Northwest who didn't like reading and writing but liked drawing and exploring and climbing and making. So, for boys of a certain age, even though they're not current, I think the earthy coming of age classics A Day No Pigs Would Die and My Side of the Mountain just might pique some interest.
And then there are new Young Adult book creations, two of which I read last month. After all, I confess to have a love of books meant for fourteen year olds. They're like candy to me. It could be worse, my candy could be actual candy. Or reality TV. :)
Anyway, here they are.
First Light by Rebecca Stead is a magical story about a boy in New York and a girl in a fictional icey underground land who are fated to meet one day. The boy's father is a global warming scientist and when he goes on an expedition with Dad, the two young characters find out how inextricably bound they are, and we all are, to what's going on under the ice in Greenland. It is beautiful, moving, imaginative, and appropriate for our times.
The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jaqueline Kelly is a sure bet for any budding naturalist. The girl of the title, Callie Vee, lives in Texas on the cusp of entering the 20th century and the cusp of discovering herself. She is not a regular girl of the time. She is a girl who keeps a notebook about the natural world, catches butterflies and caterpillars and, eventually, gets to know her grandfather who is a real, honest to goodness scientist-type. In fact, he even knows the much talked about Darwin. She helps him catalog plants and distill pecans into liquor while he teaches her that perhaps there is a place for her outside the world of pinafores and pies. Perhaps in the new century...As he says at one point, "It is better to travel with hope in one's heart than to arrive in safety."
Got any sciencey, earthy, greeny young adult books to add to the shelf? I'm always on the lookout.
m o r e (unitasking)
When my husband and I recently watched Ozu's Tokyo Story, we were struck by the slowness, the deliberateness of pretty much every movement the parents in the film make. They meditatively walk, eat, sip, and pack their things. They give attention to every movement.
While I can't go to quite the same distance, I have started to notice my movements and the way I do things. I've started slowing down and say, first sitting down, then changing directions, then reaching for something.
Being more mindful of each step in a process and giving each action its due is certainly less stressful (and probably, in the case of physical tasks, a lot easier on the low back). It's also more effective. I find that when my husband and I try to talk about something important while we're doing a task that requires concentration, upset ensues. Or when I multitask and speed up I fumble, I make mistakes, I forget things.
High speed multitasking may be common in our times, but it doesn't make it effective.
In fact, studies are showing it's quite the opposite. Multitasking causes poor performance and decreased productivity (see dumb little man's post on the subject for details).
I'm thinking by multitasking we also miss a lot of little moments.
Thich Nhat Hanh advocates "unitasking" in his book, The Art of Power because its opposite causes a diffusion of power: "Now we can send e-mail while listening to music, talking on the phone, and taking a picture...With your energy that dispersed, where is your power?"
This is why I'm working on not checking email until I've accomplished one of my own projects most days, limiting what's on my desktop (on screen and onliteral desk), choosing not to make the phone call and do the thing at the same time, doing one project at a time, stopping to look around, being more mindful of my physical movements, and sometimes just doing the dishes and paying attention to water and soap and dish--hard as that may be.
And you? How do you unitask? All suggestions welcome.
m o r e (sincerely satisfying books)
I'm kind of obsessed with picture books. I read them. I write them. I thought I'd share a handful of them with you (and/or your kids) that inspire. After all, it's a very rainy week where I live and what better way to spend it than curled up with a beautiful, simple illustrated book that speaks volumes.
Wabi Sabi. Incredibly designed with collage art, this is a story of a cat named wabi sabi who journies to find out the meaning of his name. It's riddled with Japanese haiku that demonstrate the concept of beauty in the simple and imperfect as the kitty begins to figure it out.
The Trouble With Dragons. This book is so immensely clever and funny. It tells how troublesome dragons are with their noise and trash and it begins to sound very familiar and close to home (without preaching). Not to worry though, things get so bad that the dragons begin to listen to the other animals who need to save their home. After all, the earth doesn't just belong to dragons.
All the World. Such a positive, pleasurable book, one in which the illustrations (by Marla Frazee) truly tell half the story. It is a kind of poem praising the little things and you and me. So life-affirming with pictures of farmers' markets to boot.
All in a Day. This bold but tender book with papercuts by Nikki McClure is another that makes everything seem important, and possible. It follows a boy through a day that, like every day, is filled with hope and promise and could bring anything--rain, sun, chickens, wishes on dandelions, home. So make it count.
Ming Lo Moves the Mountain. This one's much older and the illustrations are not so dazzling, but I just love the story. Ming Lo and his wife want to move a mountain that causes trouble for them and their house. They do everything the wise man tells them to do, but the thing won't move. That is until the wise man instructs them to take down their house and bundle the sticks and do a special dance, eyes closed and facing the mountain and moving their feet behind one another, over and over. Miraculously, the mountain has moved at the end of the day and they can rebuild their home. Such a lovely lesson in how to solve problems--by moving ourselves.
Your turn--any favorite kids'/illustrated books to add to our less is more collection?
m o r e (loving & learning about trees)
I picked up this amazing book at a local design store over the holidays. I've kept it on my coffeetable and am reading through it slowly, when I have a few minutes, tree by tree.
Published by ever-awesome Chronicle Books and written by Fred Hageneder of the UK's Friends of the Trees (who must've done tons of research to put it together), The Meaning of Trees is truly beautiful and bordering on magical in the way it tells the story of over 50 kinds of trees from around the world. (The photos are breathtaking too.)
Hageneder dazzles with information about the properties of each tree, its uses throughout history, its healing properties, along with culture, myth, and symbol that surround them. It's beautiful and baffling to see how inextricably linked humans have been with their "standing brothers and sisters."
After all, temples were made from trees, along with houses, medicince, weapons, tools, toys, and most importantly, fire. It reminds me of what we say at a TreePeople tree planting after one goes in the ground--"Trees need people and people need trees."
I've had so much fun reading how the Alder symbolizes release, its leaves were used to help skin diseases, its bark made into a gargle, the wood used for water pipes and how the name Elise derives from it and carries the mythical story of the Alder woman.
Or how the Maori people in New Zealand prize the Kauri forests to be family, a sad fact given that four million acres of their forest there have been whittled to 18,000.
I could go on. But I'll let you check it out for yourself.
Photo credit:
m o r e (parting ways with stuff)
In honor of January, the beginning of a new year and, more importantly this time around, a new decade, I've got a self-helpy type book for you (tis the season) that's totally in line with less is more.
In Throw Out Fifty Things, Gail Blanke walks you through every room in your house, if you've got a house (I just ignored the attic chapter), guiding you through how to declutter it by getting rid any thing that "weighs you down, clogs you up, or just plain makes you feel bad about yourself"; doesn't add something positive to your life; or takes too much time to decide about--the obvious conclusion being that if it requires too much analysis, it's a goner.
One caveat: throw out sounds kind of bad, as in throw all your unwanted stuff in a dumpster en route to a landfill. Luckily, that's not Blanke's approach. She's got a lot of green tips for disposal from clothing swaps to cartridge recycling to how to ensure your old medications don't end up in the water.
There's also a resource guide for conscious "throwing out" at the back. My favorite finds:
The Princess Project (in the Bay Area)
The second half of the book explores mental stuff to throwaway (no recycling required) with the same criteria of weighing you down, etc. Blanke is a life coach and motivator, so she heralds those skills there.
I thought it was a very useful read, perhaps especially for people who own homes and have acquired stuff over the years. But then again, everybody's got an old prescription or pair of socks they never wear lurking somewhere, right? Not to mention fear and self-doubt.
Here's to a year that's lighter in living and being.
m o r e (purposeful places)
I recently read Slow is Beautiful by Cecile Andrews, a beacon of the Voluntary Simplicity movement. Her critique of modern existence and presentation of how slow and beautiful life could be got me thinking about a lot of things. One of them was neighborhoods and intentional communities.
But first, what constitutes the slow life? According to Andrews it's individuals who do things like:
"limit their use of cars and walk and bike more...live in smaller houses [and] get rid of extra stuff...eat organically...belong to cohousing groups and work to form community in their neighborhoods...shop locally...try not to rush around...participate in peace and justice activities."
And what if those individuals got together? Andrews and her husband started the Phinnney EcoVillage in Seattle after exposure to other ecovillage incarnations and has big ideas about how valuable community can be. And really, in order to have community we have to choose it, to create it, to slow down enough to let it emerge.
So what are the qualities of an EcoVillage? Each one will look different, but it's typically a group of people who live near each other and are committed to living sustainably together. That can be as simple as monthly potlucks or be more involved with discussion and activism.
After seeing a sign for a housing co-op in my neighborhood, I did a little research and found a website with a database of Intentional Communities all over the world--that means ecovillages or any other kind of group in residence that does things differently.
Here are some ecovillages that Phinney lists as of interest.
There are at least two prominent such communities in Los Angeles:
And there's the Echo Park Timebank mixing things up as well.
I'm coming out of a period, personally, of grief and illness and am excited to get involved and plugged in again, to connect to my community. And while I'd love to be part of an ecovillage, for now I'll settle for volunteer opportunities I can take the bus to and meetings about things I care about within biking distance--all done slowly, I hope, and connected to purpose and the place I live.
m o r e (backyard or patio abundance)
Reading Small Wonder by Barbara Kingsolver is one of the things that solidified me as an eco-conscious person. Lent to me by my previous farmers' market buddy (who is also now a veritable small farmer, canner, and cook), it's the kind of book I wanted to give to everyone I knew, and didn't know.
Why then did Animal, Vegetable, Miracle sit on my shelf for a year and a half? And why did it take the last month of hospital visit, appendicitis and complications all making me lie in bed to get me to read it? Not sure. But I did.
This time of year may not have the abundance of summer, but the farmers' markets are brimming with fall harvest of all shapes of squash and other delectables. So as we prepare for two huge food holidays and hunker down for the dormant season of the year, I think this is a good book to curl up with and dream about what you might be able to grow with your own two hands.
It is a record of the year Kingsolver and her family grew and harvested and even butchered almost all of their own food (sans chemicals). What they didn't have a hand in, they bought locally from someone who did. It's part diary (Barbara), part recipe book (her daughter's contribution), part agricultural-environmental playbook (her husband's).
Kingsolver is a hero (and is downright funny), but she's also a human making the positive changes that come out of who she is. She concludes:
"These earnest efforts might just get us past the train-wreck of the daily news, or the anguish of standing behind a child, looking with her at the road ahead, searching out redemption where we can find it: recycling or carpooling or growing a garden or saving a species or something. Small, stepwise changes in personal habits aren't trivial. Ultimately they will, or won't, add up to having been the thing that mattered."
If you like food or would like to try your hand at living locally or even off your own little plot (or pots) of land, you'll love this book.
Another bastion of support: the 100 Mile Diet Pledge.
m o r e (truth behind branding)
m o r e (really paying attention)
m o r e (saving cetaceans)
m o r e (looking materialism in the face)
m o r e (winged whimsy)
m o r e (engaged selves and senses)