Monday 30 March 2020

Replacing growth with belonging economies

Last year we were invited to contribute a chapter to the forthcoming book, Food for Degrowth: Perspectives and Practices, to be published by Routledge later this year. Although, let's not count on anything like that occurring.

We called our chapter, 'Replacing growth with belonging economies: a neopeasant response'. We completed it in November.

Due to the times we're living we offer it here as a film. It's our most significant collaborative writing project since our book, The Art of Free Travel. (If you're a subscriber and reading this in your inbox, you won't see the below video, so here's a link to it).


Replacing growth with belonging economies 

Lived, written and spoken by Patrick Jones and Meg Ulman

Text editing by Anitra Nelson and Ferne Edwards

Sound by Patrick Jones and Meg Ulman (assisted by Jordan Osmond)

Video editing and seven drawings by Patrick Jones (the second, third and fourth are in collaboration with David Holmgren)

Photographs and footage by Artist as Family, David Jablonka, Nina Sahraoui, Mara Ripani, Michelle Dunn, Thomas Dorleans, Michal Krawczyk, Giulia Lepori, Nicholas Walton-Healey, Ponch Hawkes, Gab Connole, Zac Imhoof, Anthony Petrucci, Jordan Osmond, Jason Workman, Ian Robertson and David Holmgren

Soundtrack: A place of simple feeding – a poem-recipe by Patrick Jones, arranged and performed by Anthony Petrucci

Gift Ecology Films

Shared under a creative commons license/non-commercial

an Artist as Family home production

Please let us know about your own transition from hypertechnocivility

Sunday 15 March 2020

Collective preparedness

Back in 2018 Artist as Family was asked to be involved in an art event called Pandemic at Arts House in North Melbourne. The exhibition, coordinated by artists Lizzy Sampson & Asha Bee Abraham, was one of a number of Refuge events centred on where art meets emergency.

Artist as Family's role was to address the topic of Collective Preparedness. A dinner was held and Patrick joined a Médecins Sans Frontières field coordinator, a herbalist, an epidemiologist, a Melbourne Uni outbreak forecaster, an Indigenous Futurist, a medical ethicist, and a human rights academic as one of eight Sanatorium Hosts.

Photo: Lizzy Sampson

This was one of the questions he was asked:
What do you do individually and what should we be doing collectively to prepare for the future?
And this was his reply:
[We are] learning ever more knowledges that decouple our household further from the monetary economy and help model ecologically focussed and resilient communities of place. [We are] re-establishing economies that make returns to people, biomes and the future.
Patrick took some talking point objects and brews with him. Our hand-made hunting and fishing equipment, hand carved tools, medicinal mushrooms, shade-dried herbs, Meg's fermented mistress tonic, elderberry syrup, and our hawthorn fruit leathers as our walked-for Vitamin C, "fermented by the sun."

Photo: Lizzy Sampson
Nearly two years later, we find ourselves no longer in an art event, no longer in a dress rehearsal, but actually cancelling house and garden tours (today's was again fully booked), cancelling visitors, volunteers, public talks, play dates, community meetings and events, and basically every social hang. Today we also cancelled all future bookings for our Permie Love Shack. A first known case of Coronavirus, albeit still unofficial, has landed in our small town.

Things have been moving pretty fast over the past two weeks and we've been following the speed of the Coronavirus pandemic closely. However, this morning when a friend sent a link to Coronavirus: Why You Must Act Now, we decided we wouldn't wait for our leadershipless leaders to finally recommend everyone socially distance themselves. After reading the article we feel it is a social responsibility to act now, for the sake of health-compromised people and the health system more generally. There will be medical shortages, and therefore those of us who are prepared and have good health must step back from services and equipment that will be vital for those at greater risk.

Today we are pressing grapes to make wine, stewing and bottling apples, quince and pears, chopping and bringing in firewood, making bread and pancakes and pickling gherkins.

Photo: Michal Krawczyk

We do these things as we always do them, but now with a greater sense of urgency and intent. Our non-monetary home chemist will keep us as well as we can be.

Photo: Michal Krawczyk

Several weeks back, after the bushfire crisis, we were in Melbourne to speak as part of another art-meets-emergency event, Earth: A Place of Reconciliation, a Reconciliation of Place. Listening back to that talk is a strange thing now, as world events race across our local places and intersect with our local lives. One crisis follows another. The next will be another global recession.

Innumerable well-meaning folk have said to us over the years, "When the shit hits the fan, we'll be knocking on your door." While this comment is perhaps supposed to compliment us, it actually always makes us feel vulnerable and angry. The comment isn't "we can see the resilience, economic logic and environmentalism of what you're doing, and we're also going to get on with our transition before the shit hits the fan."

It's time we all share in the responsibility of the predicaments of our time. We've been advocating for years decoupling from the Capitalocene before affluence-descent sends smug Modernity into chaos. Those luxurious days are numbered. Speaking of luxuries: five years of using family cloth, and these little op-shopped squares of soft flannel cotton are still going strong!


We'll keep blogging in this time of social distancing and keep our sharing going digitally. We're looking forward to honing our hunting, sewing, repairing and foraging skills. Reading all those books we haven't had time for. Carving new objects, fixing tools, sowing more veg, and generally resting. We'll prepare another post on what we're up to shortly. You might find yourselves having more time for things you've been meaning to do too. We hope so. In grief there is learning, there is praise, there is renewal and opportunity.

We hope, Dear Reader, while this pandemic is still largely an abstract and mediated phenomenon, you are not vulnerable, not in despair or panic, but are preparing as adults in any capacity to meet this global predicament, remaining eternal students within this shapeshifting world as the Anthropocene matures deeper into systemic crises and calls on our adult selves to step forward.

Much love, community-immunity, social warming and joy,
Patrick, Meg, Woody and Zero