Getting Dirty in Public // LA Urban Gardening

Before

I've decided to claim this little patch of dry, uninviting soil near my apartment. The weeds have died away, which means there's probably not a lot of nutrition in the soil right now considering how much rain we had the week before I took these pictures. That's going to change. I'm starting by putting my vegetable peels and trimmings in the ground. Sure, I could attempt to maintain a real compost heap and then amend the soil with that, but the energy expenditure it takes just doesn't make sense with limited space, time, and raw material I have. And I figure that the moisture from the raw vegetation will be good for the soil, anyway. 

First trench

After receiving a bounty of vegetable trimmings to add to my own healthy supply (which I keep in the fridge in marked containers to prevent strange and terrible odors from accumulating in the kitchen), I took to the streets. To this corner. I dug a couple of trenches with my favorite gardening tool, spread out the veg, and buried the goods.

LGBTQ Youth of Color Events This Weekend

Last night I went to the opening of Barangay's Tulay event. The work of fellow TWSSter, heart-friend, and talented artist Allison Santos is featured in the art exhibit, and she'll be speaking tomorrow on a panel of community leaders from 2-5pm. 

Two of the most memorable performances of last night's opening were Kay Barrett's exuberant spoken word and Dom Magwili's performance art piece, in which Dom sat on a sofa surrounded by brightly colored tsinelas and conversed one-on-one with people as an older, Filipino-accented man whose daughter had just come out to him, trying to understand queerness.

Get Free Mulch! // LA Urban Gardening

Do you garden? Do you want to start one but find that your soil is mostly clay and dries up and cracks? Mulch is the answer. 

And you can get it for free in ten different locations in LA on Fridays! AND you can get free compost on Thursdays. 

The City of Los Angeles Sanitation Bureau runs a program that's Closing The Loop, taking green waste and turning it into mulch and compost which can be picked up at these locations:

"To My Asian Brothers" by Pat Sumi // LA Asian American Poetry

From 1969 to 1974, a group of Asian American activists in Los Angeles published a monthly newsprint journal, Gidra. I came across the following poem by Pat Sumi in my reading in Asian Americans: The Movement and the Moment:

To My Asian Brothers

Clarity of vision            
           of perception            
           is a color not possible            
           in Los Angeles 
To the far horizons                  
                the city slumbers                              
                smoulders                             
                in its brown chemistry                              
                of Babylonian chains
Chains             
           bind my feet                     
                  my eyes             
           as I stumble along the yellow mosaic 
Carefully, I search for the missing pieces 
There...             
            a glittering piece             
            a sparkle of discovery 
My family sword is found             
              to strike my chains of sorrow 
But the chains merely part                                           
                                       then re-form 
In despair             
               I stumble
Brother!             
             Now I see you so near             
             You give me strength to rise again 
But why are you so still                           
                          so stoic                                        
                                     brother?
Chains of Babylon             
               bind us together             
               but we do not touch 
With this sword             
              I would free you 
But where are your chains?                
                They are not like mine 
In your eyes             
            I see your spirit             
            bound by chains                         
                       by burdens                       
                       by weight                      
                       by heart                                   
                                   so heavy             
             the sword cannot free you                                                   
                                                     yet 
As you stand so still            
            your eyes                          
                          steadily mirror                          
                          a painful past 
Do you see                 
                  grandfather    back bent                 
                  worked to the ground? 
Do you see                 
                  father        barb bound                 
                  concentration sent? 
Do you see                 
                 brother       Asian death                 
                 Vietnam sent? 
Do you see                 
                 the unshed tears                 
                 the unavenged humiliation?
Do you see                 
                 as you stand so still                                    
                                     so stoic?
To be a man
               to be free
               to love
               to walk proud
               in a clear night
                                     to be a gentle lover
                                     to a home
               is a life not possible
               in Los Angeles
But history is not defeat
                          weakness
                          sorrow
The back is bent           but unbroken
The spirit is bound        but unbroken
And you, brother,
               are chained   but unbroken
Strength is will
             is spirit
             is soul
             is love
             is unity
As we speak
             the world has turned
             a revolution
             a great victory in the East
Clarity of vision
           of perception
           is a color possible
           by a new light
           by a new day dawning
The burdens of grandfather
                        father
                        brother
            become light by this new day
The sword glitters and sparkles
                                   with piercing red fire
                                                             smokeless
                                                             pure
                 to shatter the chains
Yes!
           We are free!
Yes!
           You are free
                             to be a man
Chains
          are to be thrown away
          so we walk freely
Eyes
        are to be free
              to see us and the world
              in the light of a new day dawning
Brother!
             Come join hands with me
             we have been separated too long
A home of revolution
             of love
             for us is possible
             in Los Angeles 

--Pat Sumi, 1970

I've heard that the original Gidra was put together in a sort of co-op house somewhere in South Los Angeles. It was a political journal that was sometimes an inch thick. Inspiring.