Crossroads Dispatches

Leonardo Fingerpainted, and Bon Voyage to Burma

A friend of mine, 0, is a Burmese artist, residing in the San Francisco Bay Area. Although he prefers abstract trumpet blasts of colors and swirls of dancing texture to realism, in order to raise money for his village back home, he'll often dedicate many canvases to meticulous reproductions of the da Vinci's Mona Lisa.

He leaves for Burma next week (his visa confirmed), so I’m helping him directly because I know him to be a person who lives The Gift.

In a blog post months ago, I mentioned that I had a small cluster of friends that helped each other out. If anyone sells a painting, while yet another's scrounging for scraps to eat, they'll share the money, and/or cook you a home-cooked simmering soup and Burmese noodles supper. "Artists gotta help other artists," 0, my Burmese friend, would instill in me.

Normally, 0 self-funds his visits to Burma (loaded with medicines, water purifiers, energy drinks and foods, books and educational materials) with his art work sales, but this time he'd only just returned from a 5-week trip in April with $5 in his pocket. Then Cyclone Nargis hit.

If you'd like to help, I'm taking donations.

What Twitter friends are doing: Pissyrabbit is donating 100% of all art sales (Warholesque stuffed animals) at www.basilandantimony.etsy.com through May 21st to the cause. Charlotte created a Facebook group. Pistachio is collecting information on how social media can help Burma. Michelle is shows you how you can buy calling cards for Burmese refugees in Austin, TX to call home. Evrideva donated his $85 in barista tips last night (his tip jar told his customers that it was for 0). TRUE suggested a long-term Etsy store for Oliver and other artists to sell creations on behalf of Burma relief at Art4Burma.etsy.com (not ready yet).

Or, best yet if you are in the Bay Area, missrogue is hosting 0 this Saturday.... come wish 0 a good send-off to Burma.

San Francisco, May 17th, 6-8 p.m. Bon Voyage to Burma. My Burmese artist and humanitarian will be the guest at a fun-raiser (do-it-yourself fingerpainted gift cards) and art show at Citizen Space, thanks to Tara Hunt. Address: 425 2nd Street, #300, San Francisco, CA. 0 does some really glorious fingerpaint (yup, handmade!) cards - watch, and/or do your own.

Scrumptious Burmese food will be served. Donations requested, (never mandatory) $7-10. Simply come by to show your support of an individual headed to help Burmese cyclone survivors next week.

Bonus:

Finger Painting: "Throughout history a small number of artists have rejected both palette knives and brushes. A few used their fingers to spread the paint. Artists turned to such primal means for various reasons, including display of skill, experimental playfulness, or nose-thumbing at convention."

...The young Leonardo's use of his fingers can be linked to the properties of the newly available medium of oil painting. ... It should not surprise us that he played with the tackiness of the new oil medium, palpating the paint as he sought new effects." - Seeing Through Paintings, Andrea Kirsch and Rustin S Levenson

Art credits Elephant Family, by 0 ('m declining mentioning his name at this time as he frequents the country, and I don't wish to jeopardize those visa-dependent visits. Graffiti With Homemade Fingerpaints, by Pilgrim Parent

p.s. In next few days, I'll share how you can help through active prayer, or intention alone.

The Gift, The Gift Gift

"And there are those who give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue;
They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space." - Khalil Gibran, from poem Giving

---

"Originally published in 1983, The Gift is an inquiry into the place of creativity in our market-oriented society. Starting with the premise that the work of art is a gift and not a commodity, Lewis Hyde's revolutionary book ranges across anthropology, literature, economics, and psychology to show how the "commerce of the creative spirit" functions in the lives of artists and in the culture as a whole."

I was already thinking along the lines of this little book when I read the first few chapters this summer. Tara Hunt gifted it to me (Tara's two cents on The Gift).

This book tends to be more scholarly and philosophically denser than spritely visual poetry of graphic novels that capture my lilting lyrical life these days. However, I dare anyone to say the chapter on Walt Whitman and his gift wasn't pure magic. The book itself was  written by a poet exploring the themes of how an artist thrives in a world that takes priceless to mean worth zilch at the market stall. So it's close to home, for Lewis Hyde himself.

Does art flow through you like a gift? Yet it doesn't feel like other things, including money, are flowing in?

If you've ever wondered if there could be a "better" way than the current set-up to share your gifts with the world without compromising the inspiration plus keep a roof over your head, this book is a good foundation to have that kind of conversation that results in direct action in the world. Nigh, a revolution in the world.

On 7/13/07, the day I received "The Gift" I wrote a conspirator (conspire: inspiring each other):

"We get to create a parallel universe that coexists w/ the service to me mine my economy... until the latter collapses like berlin wall. A velvet revolution. or vermilion. the art currency is just the entryway to temple of future now."

I believe the lines between artist and patron have blurred altogether. I believe we are in dire short supply of either these days.

In this day in age, we're all the Medicis. No matter if you envision yourself as the prototypical starving artist. Yes, you too. Me too. So, I'm sending "The Gift" to artists creating the next Renaissance. For every dollar you contribute, I'll contribute a dollar to buy and ship the book out up through a grand collaborative total of $1110.00, or Christmas Day, whichever comes first. 

I've never one to mix giving with Christmas before - foregoing the exchange of presents as prescribed, obligatory event, this includes Valentine's Day and birthdays - but this year is an exception. If you would like a copy of The Gift sent to you, please include your Twitter account below in the comments or direct message me via Twitter, and I'll get back to you for your full mailing address. Please don't email - if you email me, it's more than likely lost in the avalanche and in the spam.

How It Works: There are no strings attached. No quid pro quo expected. No thank you notes necessitated. There is no catch. The criteria is that you must write your request in comments on this post before Christmas Day, Tuesday, December 25th; and you must supply US address; and I'm limiting the absolute total USD to a matching gift challenge so that the giving cycle engages many more people than just the two of us.

Only one book per person, or per USA mailing address (share). (That ought to go without saying, and I trust my regular readers, but this is  public after all. If you're even fluttering a thought about gaming or finding loopholes just remember I'm an artist too; this will thoroughly stretch the bank for December as it is...$555's more than my rent.) The book may or may not arrive by Christmas Day (it will be ordered by Christmas Day) depending on when you asked the universe.

Chip in for the matching gift fund here. Nutcracker Suite nutshell: So, if you chip in $15, then I'll match another $15, and so forth up to $555 in matches.

Enjoy all your gifts this season!

p.s. Does this mean you need a Twitter account? So far, yes. (It's free.) I might extend the offer later to non-Twitteristas, but this is my sneaky way of getting you to join. I'll be using Twitter to spread the actionable part of the The Gift ideas further in 2008 more so than this blog, so that's the plot if you're wondering. I'm over at twitter.com/eve11, btw.

Art credits. Why it's from the fresco cycle in the Medicis' Magi chapel, of course. Lorenzo was a fine supporter of the arts, and a poet himself. A detail from the "Journey of the Magi Cycle"...that magi trio being another fine set of givers.

(I have to wonder if we'd have Michelangelo works at all in this day and age without Lorenzo's support. Hmmm....)

Next, "Figures of Peace and Music" from the Salon of the Muses in the Villa Medici in Florence.

perhaps consider what life would be like if we truly lived by what we believe

"Perhaps consider what life would be like if we truly lived by what we believe." - Lost & Found on The Hierophant

When I first got to the Marigny neighborhood of New Orleans, and saw that there were no full-on grocery stores, that's when I first got a clue that the trip was going to be a tad more expensive than I'd anticipated.

That old flashback anxiety came up the first day or two when I went out to eat, paid the bill and then flash forwarded into the future calculating in my head the total spreadsheet amount for food expenditures  for the two months (plus in actuality).

It didn't take me very long to get into the New Orleans' laidback vibe, however, and feel that somehow everything was going to be alright.

What I ended up recalling (my life flowed with grace and miracles in Thailand and Sri Lanka the winter of 2005 too) was when I take the initial, if faltering, step, the Universe takes at least 99 on my behalf.

Small example. I rarely needed to take cab rides while in New Orleans. I would simply decide where I wanted to go  - be it in Tulane or Magazine Street or the Mapleleaf Bar - and voila! someone would inevitably offer me a ride - typically without me asking.

The first time, I'd only been in town for two days so I took a cab to the Jung society meeting on the Enuma Elish myth in uptown. There I met Dan and Diane - literally right next door neighbors to where I was staying - voila! a ride home materialized.

I had no idea when I got there how I'd get home (it was a church tucked off the beaten path; a cab would definitely need to be called out.) Yet I did know I needed to be at that particular meeting. That was the step. When you listen and hear, "Go." You don't balk, "But that's all the way in uptown. It'll cost $25 roundtrip. And...."

Don't give up even before you start. You move in the direction you're being pulled despite appearances that you ought to wait until all the ducks are in the row, and you've lined a ride home, and the stock market is, and the...

I don't wait for evidence to present itself that I'm on the right path. Evidence comes, if it does at all, in hindsight. You move because the wind blows you that way.

"The only thing that will move you (and I don't mean to be too poetic about this) is the same thing that moves a leaf hanging from a tree. It's simply because the breeze blows that way. So you always know what to do: The breeze blows that way, and that's the way you go. You don't ask questions anymore. You don't evaluate why the breeze is blowing that way because you know that you don't know why. And you know you can't know why. There's never been a leaf anywhere that knows why the wind blows that way on that day at that moment. That breeze changes the orientation of your life, moment to moment to moment, simply because that's the way life's moving. And when you're living in your awakened self you have no argument with the way it's moving because it is the same as you are." - Adyashanti

Actually, that's the way I met my friend Wyatt. I didn't know how I was going to get home that day I met him busking on University Avenue either. That was our opening exhange. He asked for money. I walked over, lowered my voice and explained that I'd give him something but I didn't have enough for bus fare home myself. (Tended to go through these feast and famine cycles in the past.) I only know that something was compelling me to go to Palo Alto that day. I followed that whim. Of course, I ended up getting a ride home from my friend that works at IDEO... yet I didn't know that apriori.

I found that New Orleanians were generous, sharing and less of a "me, mine, and my" frame of mind than I'm used to observing in the US.

It's there it all dawned on me that money would end up becoming extraneous.

Call me quixotic, idealistic, dreamer. (I cannot explain the how's) I've seen into the future. (Though yes, the future keeps shifting because we change it.) Surprising myself, I feel moved toward "collective" (for lack of better name) and cooperative ways of sharing which don't necessarily involve money, or monetary systems.

I want to play in that realm. Live by that belief that we can take care of each other.

To me, art isn't to be merely visited, watched...it's more like a space you inhabit, you absorb, you be. Doubt I've said this, but I'm into social art. Not social as in we're going to exchange comments, trackbacks, and I'll add you to my buddy list.

Social as in art that creates civilizations...like this...

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

- John Lennon, Imagine

I witnessed so many acts of collectiveness in Nola, ah, where to begin. Okay, here's one I witnessed: One evening I run into a cool pianist I've met at Mimi's upstairs. He is giving away a newly inherited piano to a fellow pianist sitting there at the counter. They'd met the week earlier at Mimi's. It's an extra piano, and she doesn't own one.

That logic doesn't resonate with everyone. Why not put the piano on Craigslist? Why not eBay? Why not donate it to the ___. Because he met whom it was intended for.

Last week Donna wrote in comments: "For some real fun, try giving money away, and watch how fast it comes back to you. ;^)" Yes. (The Diamond Cutter is a marvelous true story of this in practice. If it matters, he ended up a multimillionaire in the process.) Obviously one doesn't give with any expectation of getting. I don't give for quid pro quo or karmic brownie points.

Anyhow, once I got the lesson of giving, I found another lesson was waiting.

& it has to do with truly living by what I believe. As runners are wont to say, though, your mileage may vary.

There are those who give little of the much which they have - and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome.

And there are those who have little and give it all.

These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty.

There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward.

And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism.

And there are those who give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue;

They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space.

Though the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes He smiles upon the earth.

It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding;

And to the open-handed the search for one who shall receive is joy greater than giving

And is there aught you would withhold?

All you have shall some day be given;

Therefore give now, that the season of giving may be yours and not your inheritors'.

You often say, 'I would give, but only to the deserving.'

The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture.

They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish.

Surely he who is worthy to receive his days and his nights is worthy of all else from you.

And he who has deserved to drink from the ocean of life deserves to fill his cup from your little stream.

And what desert greater shall there be than that which lies in the courage and the confidence, nay the charity, of receiving?

And who are you that men should rend their bosom and unveil their pride, that you may see their worth naked and their pride unabashed?

See first that you yourself deserve to be a giver, and an instrument of giving.

For in truth it is life that gives unto life - while you, who deem yourself a giver, are but a witness.

And you receivers - and you are all receivers - assume no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives.

Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings;

For to be overmindful of your debt, is to doubt his generosity who has the free-hearted earth for mother, and God for father.        

- Kahlil Gibran

UPDATE: As soon as I hit publish, I get this about circles of sharing and generosity entrepreneurs in my inbox:

"Imagine walking down the street and a woman comes up to you and says, 'Hello. I have an offering for you.' Puzzled, you look up and in your palm falls a $7500 check. 'Why me?' 'Serendipity,' she says. 'What should I do with it?' 'Whatever you want.' 'How did you decide on $7500?' 'We sat in a circle of silence, wrote down a number on a piece of paper and it averaged out to $7500.' And then she walks away. Now that's a pretty ridiculous story, but that's what has brought us together here." - "A Radical Experiment in Generosity Launches," CharityFocus.com

images Visit (detail of entire painting above) by Mari Klarwein; Breath of Gaia, by Josephine Wall (btw, discovered via a cool art blog by Melissa Ulto you may enjoy, Multo.com::Visual Magic); Tree of Fruitfulness, by Lieve Prins; can't find origin (from Myspace page while surfing) but probably one of those fantasy games

Bake Cause Marketing Into Product

I nearly went to the Cause Marketing Forum this week. Their site defines its origins: "It was 21 years ago today (approximately) that cause marketing was first unleashed on America’s teeming shores in the form of the 1983 American Express Statue of Liberty Restoration campaign."

"Cause marketing" in an informal sense certainly goes back further than 21 years. My opinion is that the strongest offering is when your cause is baked into your product and/or service, rather than have it as a do-gooding add-on. Some companies that come to mind are Flickr and Craigslist, often cited in blogging circles.

But I'm challenging myself to look beyond the digerati for inspiration. This post from Fortune's Business Innovation Insider blog last November has had a very profound ongoing influence on me. It challenges Ben & Jerry's: "Does encouraging charitable giving, environmental responsibility, and fair labor standards compensate for the obesity encouraged by its products and marketing campaigns?" And continues:

"Based on that excerpt from Rushkoff, What example can you provide of a company that does its good works from the inside-out, as its primary function rather than merely a portion of revenues? Some examples Rushkoff includes in his book are Honest Tea, conceived from the inside out as a way to reduce sugar intake and provide jobs for aboriginal people, or Voxiva, a successful for-profit company born out of a non-profit idea to provide healthcare connectivity in developing regions." -- "Goodness, Outside and In: Douglas Rushkoff Contest #4", Fortune Business Innovation Insider, November 25, 2005

I've already written that I'm feeling about the food and drink options at Starbucks precisely how I feel about McDonald's. This might lead you to assume I've cut all sugar and caffeine from life. (Mantra: Middle way, middle way.) Not so, for instance, I eat more chocolate now than ever before (that's up from near zero). Yet I'm more finicky about my chocolate. It needs to feel and taste as natural and high quality as possible.

The famous artist and potter, Beatrice Wood, once quipped, "My two great joys in life are chocolate and young men." Of course she lived to be 105. (There, I finally found an opportunity to use that quote ;-))

In the Asia Spa Nov/Dec 2005 issue, there is a writeup on the innovative and successful Soneva resorts and Six Senses Spas. One of their newest creations is an "Earth Spa" that doesn't use air-conditioning, is built from rice husks, straw and local mud [which itself to be honest is not so new and is exactly the kind of "terrabricks" that Habitat for Humanity and other NGOs are used for tsunami relief homes]. The resort spas have organic gardens onsite with their own perma-culturists so that their salads are served ripe and fresh. They distinguish themselves from other resorts because they innovate from the inside-out. People I know who've stayed there, gush about the experience.

The quote that struck me from the Soneva folks: "As a team we all love dreaming up things. But the future of luxury is in nature and natural things. Organic, clean, pure; that is really a getaway."

Theo Chocolate is new chocolate factory that's baking their cause into their products.

The key things I noted from an article below are 1) founder's personal mission and passion stems from an irrevocably life-changing experience 2) current chocolate market is "hot" so it's getting harder to stand out; they're unique, distinguish themselves by being first factory in US devoted to producing 100% Fair Trade chocolate 3) they attempt to make what is ordinarily an industrial workspace whimsical, "loud and beautiful", for instance by painting machines a cheerful lime green 4) the writer begins this story very sexily, because chocolate is inherently sexy 5) aligned with current trends of freshness (short shelf-life because lack of preservatives) and use of local suppliers with personal connection, such as organic family farms. Snippet below:

"Standing inside a cavernous building in Fremont [WA], I inhale the rich, dank smell of fermented cocoa beans as lime green machines throb  all around me - crushing, melting, tempering and conching. A decadent square of mint ganache made from dark chocolate and fresh organic mint leaves melts on my tongue.

It's hard to believe that this is the old Red Hook Brewery, now home to Theo Chocolate, Seattle's first and only chocolate factory (the name is short for Theobroma, Greek for "food of the gods")...

For the past year and a half, Theo Chocolate founder Joe Whinney - along  with  Music (his ex-wife), chocolatier Autumn Martin and production manager Dan  Donahue, a former Caffe Vita roaster - has been buying chocolate-making equipment, importing organic cocoa beans and assembling the first factory in the country devoted to producing 100 percent Fair Trade [indicates the grower is receiving fair market price and engaging in responsible labor practices: no child labor, no discrimination, no union busting]. 

Whinney, 39, (Known as Whinney Wonka around the factory), traces his interest in the chocolate business back 20 years ("30 pounds ago," he jokes), when he was working as a conservation volunteer in Belize.  "There were a lot of do-gooding gringos like me who wanted to help out," he says. "I realized that social and environmental degradation were economic issues and thought that a market approach was necessary."

The chocolate market was a natural fit. "I fell in love with cocoa," Whinney says. "Cocoa is one of their main crops, and it had tremendous cultural relevance for them, which really resonated with me.  And at the time, the organic market was much smaller, and there was no organic chocolate that  I was aware of."

Though grown organically, the Belize cacao was not certified as organic, which was the case in many of the countries where cocoa beans were grown. [Article goes on to recount how Whinney taught himself the chocolate business in 1990s to supply certified organic chocolate to companies such as Newman's Own Organics. More about the process of creating chocolate bars and confections...]

The mint [used in one of their 13 confections], which I eagerly sampled, comes from an organic farm in Duvall, and [former pastry chef Autumn] Martin infuses it into the cream to make the filling...

At press time, Theo is expected to be selling its chocolate bars locally this spring and internationally by the end of the year. But the confections, which have a two-week shelf life, are confined to the Northwest (find them at Whole Foods and PCC) and certain specialty shops outside the region. Which is fine by me - they're too good to share." -- "Candyland", Seattle Magazine, May 2006 (not online)

Bonus: Background reading, try Trading Up: Why Consumers Want New Luxury Goods...and How Companies Create Them and Get Back in the Box: Innovation from the Inside Out, by Douglas Rushkoff (blog)

p.s. Hooray for Bill Gates devoting and committing his full time to his foundation. I wonder though what a for-profit like Microsoft could do from the inside-out, baking goodness within, though...hmmm....

images Flickr photo by Kiki J, Soneva Earth Spa, Theo Chocolate art logo. Alas many intriguing chocolate Flickr photos are 'all rights reserved'; check out this artful plateful from Laederch Chocolatier Suisse, the fairytale Gaudí chocolate factory in Barcelona, the beautiful chocolates from "Cacao Et Chocolat, a wonderful Paris chocolate shop", and the delicable art of MarieBelle chocolates on Prince St., NYC

We're Not In This to Get Bought

"I’m in this to build something cool, not to get bought."

This quote really stuck in my head because it resonated with my values. I've remembered it since so it was easy to find now four months later when it seems that the right price just hadn't been struck yet: $750 million, naw.

I'm fine with people making a profit and having a roof over their heads, and perhaps Facebook was just a hobby that took on a life of its own. It probably never sprung from a seed desire to better the world or to help people realize their innate potential.

If it's Donald or Martha, I have the expectation that it will be about being bought, and that's upfront and transparent.

Still it's not really a big deal that the Facebook founder changed his mind, but I ran into pre-beta Facebook-like site that purports to really be about changing the world. But something seemed disingenuous when I read between the lines of the investor profiles, biz model, etc. I just wasn't buying "we're not here to be bought" story.

The January 2006 Common Ground Magazine insightfully asks in its article "Markets of Enlightenment": "Can “liberation,” “awakening” and “enlightenment” be bought and sold?" Sufi master Llewellyn Vaughn-Lee, whom I saw speak last November, in the same issue says that, "The spiritual values of the 1970s got hijacked by the self-development movement and became just another form of materialism." Yup. (p.s. Vaughn-Lee has some intriguing things there about places of power, women, and the Internet.)

I can relate to why Chris Locke's next book might just be: "No Love Lost: Narcissism & the New Age". Chris is definitely on the right track but goes too far in lumping all spirituality as bogus narcissism. I reckon if Chris actually met an enlightened person he'd expand his view (they're rarely celebrities - all that glitters is not gold; and I'm not either but I have met). The Bodhisattva ideal and felt sense that everyone is your brother or sister or yikes, even seamless to you, was obscured by the me-feel-good god-wants-what-I-want anything-goes rush of bliss ninnyhood. No wonder Jack drank himself to death.

What would it mean, for example, to seriously consider the implications of the "quantum leap" envisioned by Teilhard de Chardin, which, as Combs tells us, "has its own emergent properties that go far beyond the individual minds"? If we are to sincerely grapple with the implications of "living the integral life," then surely it means daring to open ourselves up to a potential "radiance of being" that is so positive, all-encompassing, and infused with purpose that it may propel us far beyond the relativistic field of our personal "needs and aspirations." - Book Review: The Radiance of Being by Allan Combs, What is Enlightenment? magazine

I understand many many many people may be motivated by their own personal desires. Been there and still dissolving those egoic tendencies in myself.

Last night a fellow artist mentions a friend that might be a suitable partner for our plans: "But he's still about making a killing." I shake my head even though I'm on the cell phone: "Wrong person then."

The right persons? She or he clicks with this:

There is an almost sensual longing for communion with others who have a larger vision. The immense fulfillment of the friendships between those engaged in furthering the evolution of consciousness has a quality almost impossible to describe. - Teilhard de Chardin

Update: On second thought my second blog post at Crossroads Dispatches over two years ago pretty much sums it up:

"In Africa, they say there are two hungers, the lesser hunger and the greater hunger. The lesser hunger is for the things that sustain life, the goods and services, and the money to pay for them, which we all need. The greater hunger is for an answer to the question "why?", for some understanding of what that life is for." - from "Hungry Spirit, Beyond Capitalism: A Quest for Purpose in the Modern World" by Charles Handy

I used to recommend Randy Komisar's book, The Monk and the Riddle, years ago and handed it like candy to freshly minted entrepreneurs with dollar signs in their eyes. Now more than ever that should be the first book a founder reads before they've polished up the Web 2.0 biz plan. (p.s. Randy's a VC these days.)

World Water Day Poem

messages in (m)(w)ater
terra mater
earth: planet drops of pooled ambrosia
cadillac deserts of desire

she, the clay jar against crown
well-meeting
water-gathering
he, the tum-pli-nes against forehead
forest-meeting
wood-gathering

day
in
burn
day
out
quench

school-time: children of maíz fields
reading husks
day
in
writing mica-soil
(layers slide like pages in a book)
day
out

where
mammacita, la agua?

actions ripple
day
in
day
o) only
u) us
t) together

Inspired by: Yvonne at Lip-sticking, my friend David who told me about a new 1/2 cent per gallon water filtering technology, desert living, Colorado River and Guatemalan journeys, and Google. (Plus yeah I noticed Starbucks doing the good cause thing in their retail stores.)
photo WaterPartners International

Burnt Sienna Memories of Aid

I think it really - I mean I don't know how it took so long - really hit me that my experience as a fellow tsunami survivor was not so relevant to the situation any longer.

The discontinuity in our lives was a connecting bond, but the trajectories are far too different. I didn't need rice sacks and dahl and clean water delivered to the community shelter where I was housed with sixty families for months.

It might have happened in Hambantota, Sri Lanka that I realized quite another life experience bonded me more to survivors of natural disasters.

The west and south coast is fairly urban and one sees Army tent shelters alongside luxury gated resorts, but from Matara on, the scene changes to lush green rice paddies, stark white egrets and cocoa-dusted water buffalo. My contact lensed eyes felt refreshed after weeks of city dirt. I sunk into my seat and enjoyed a bus ride to Hambantota. (It was the bus ride from Hambantota I remarked on yesterday; that was altogether a different experience.)

Maybe the fact that 35% of the people are employed in agriculture comes alive here. This is the heartland.

There was a funeral that day. A fisherman in the neighborhood ran out of oxygen while part of a dive training program.

Death isn't foreign here. So many of the men died at market - too close to the sea - that Boxing Day, that it's mostly women in attendance today.

The monthly 'psycho-spiritual healing programme' at the temple school was running about a half-hour behind as mourners trickled in.

While the counselors and lecturer prepared, I entertained myself by glancing at posters - reminders for the teacher - such as: "A child is not a vessel to be filled - but a lamp to be lit."

As they settle, I count 28 although the numbers are in flux as kids arrive and elders depart throughout. One woman peels back her red blouse to nurse her baby as she listens attentively. Two hours glide by. Some other day I'll tell you more about those hours.

The program erases from my mind. At the end of the day, I'm introduced to a woman. Her hair is long and tucked back like most Sri Lankan woman and she wears what resembles a house-dress. She could have just walked out her bathroom. My mother snaps into focus with her signature house-dress and slippers. She is listless and numb too.

She stands there shifting slowly while the counselor speaks to me in English. The three girls are maybe eleven. Maybe twelve. They wear matching polyester blouse, skirt, black ponytails. When I was a child I would have sketched in the barefoot triplets with scrawls of burnt sienna Crayolas.

Crayola Inc adds a romantic dash to burnt sienna: The Japanese do not have a specific word named brown. Rather they use more descriptive names such as “tea-color," "fox-color," and "fallen-leaf.”

In Sri Lankan brown would be husked-coconut-color, bed-tea-color, water-buffalo-color, cinnamon-bark-color.

The three girls eyes aren't cloudy like their mother's. They mostly follow your gaze rather than look at the temple floor.

Christy was 14, Yvette was nine. I was just shy a few weeks before high school prom night when Papi died.

I'm close to that age when Mom was buying a casket for her husband at 42.

Mom's English was mangled but we understood her just fine. Her last job was teaching before she fled Cuba as a political refugee. She had a two-year teaching certificate. She didn't drive although we lived in suburban labyrinth of Miami.

And.

There was no life insurance.

Now this life experience is much more relevant to the people I meet post-tsunami.

How to pay for my college education paled in comparison to how are we paying the mortgage and eating dinner and keeping the lights on. I feel blessed that no one was surveying us forlornly as the three of us stood to the left of our mother. But maybe it's too easy to be invisible at times like this.

One of the best things that happened to us wasn't a donation or a handout. Papi was no longer around to boom: "No, you can't have a job. Get good grades. Go to college." A man with a junior high education quickly surmises that you can't scrape by in the U.S.A. without an education.

"Can you type?" my aunt Nina asked in her chirpy Brazilian accent.

So How Does It Feel to Be A Global Micro-brand?

I received an email from someone writing a feature on marketing innovations and global microbrands.  I answered the writer's email questions while I watch tonight's The Apprentice. (TV is rare for me, but concentration isn't a problem as I learned to do homework in a household that adored TV sets in every room.)

Donald Trump is having lunch with the winning team. He's asked (gushingly):

How does it feel to be a brand?

Trump (I'm paraphrasing):  I don't think about it. It puts too much pressure on you... When you look at people dying every day in India or hungry in Africa, what we're doing isn't that important.

Hmmm. Trump gets a few brownie points on my end.

The writer's questions had me re-evaluate the value of blogging. I'm not sure I'd have realized that there were so many business people that shared my interests without this blog. Sometimes I think I'm really going out on a limb and I need to reel it back in and discuss Technorati rankings and Web 2.0 and Techcrunch parties. Precisely at those moments an email comes in from a CEO stating his own preference: "I like some of the messages with a deep meaning" or from a financier: "Beautiful. Just exquisite. Thank you."

That's why I keep plugging away.

This is a good time to attempt to answer question #1 publicly. It's still rough:

1. How would you describe your profession/work?  What do you do (for money)?

I'm a freelance marketing consultant and writer. Or I was a consultant.  I'm in the middle of a transition out of a typical consulting role that began after my brush with death and global loss, the Indian Ocean tsunami.

I'm creating (slowly, organically) an affinity group (future: Dwelve.com) that transcends any product or service. One hub spoke of the strategy involves helping international brands that exude spiritual capital -  not in that syrupy jumping-on-the-Zenification-bandwagon but as an authentic expression of the company (and stakeholders) wish to engage in the world rather than succumbing to the escape-to-Tibetan-monastery-virus. (BTW, I think the only way to operate the new and distinct operation is something other than the typical C corp.)

A lot of brand-builders talk about meaning-making. But I'm not talking about anything made or manufactured, but pointing to a deep naturalness, something fundamental, and universally essential yet expressed uniquely. In Mindfulness in Plain English, by Venerable Heenepola Gunaratana, he makes the point that the most basic of things - words like the - are often the most difficult to explain.

For instance, I met an author and poet in Sri Lanka. She hosts a monthly Enlightenment Seekers Study Circle in her home outside Colombo. Her husband works with women's microfinance in Hambantota. I felt I knew the family intimately after two afternoons.

It was only late in our relationship that I even learned her family owned a socially-conscious tea plantation. One son learned yoga on his own from books at thirteen and meditated in a Japanese Zen monastery at 17. Eventually I learned her daughter-in-law (said son's wife) was packaging and selling the tea. Reading the website I saw that their presence, their story simply wasn't coming across at all. It could be any tea company - albeit a high-quality Ceylon tea.

Tea is sold by auction in Sri Lanka. Taste enters the equation, but essentially plucking tea leaves and selling them in bulk is awfully close to a commodity.  There "value-added" export means bagging the tea leaves.

The real value-add, IMHO? (A great cup of tea is expected, a given these days.) Value add is caring about and wanting to support the people and mission behind and beyond the tea product.

FYI, the list of questions. Be curious to hear responses. I can send you my answers via email (I didn't ask for permission to post):

1. How would you describe your profession/work? What do you do (for money)?
2. Hugh MacLeod mentioned you in his rant on a “global microbrand”. What does the term "global microbrand" mean to you?
3. Is your blog a personal “global microbrand”? If so, how? And how successful has it been?
4. What is the difference between marketing by blogs for small business, and large  corporate b-blogs?
5. In such a saturated blogosphere (where most blogs have relatively few hits), how does marketing by blogs reach out to customers?
6. In the world of blogs, where entries become obsolete within a matter of hours, is marketing by blogs sustainable?
7. How do you think marketing by blogs will change the way people perceive of marketing/advertising?

Beyond Relief: We Must Not Rebuild Poverty

That's item number 7 in Sarvodaya's published position on tsunami rebuilding.

I've been visiting the headquarters of Sri Lanka's longest-standing NGO, Sarvodaya, which was founded on and rooted in grassroots principles since its inception in 1958. They kicked into high gear deploying their island-wide district offices and village-based volunteer force immediately after the tsunami.

I'm sipping my Ceylon tea with Bandala Senadeeva who heads the international unit that coordinated international groups and foreign invididuals that poured into their offices post-tsunami. We've dipped into the canteen next door for tea time which is "taken" from between 3:30 to 4:30 p.m. (You "take" lunch, here.) It's a tradition I can get happily accustomed to as I'm a big tea lover. Although the bed tea concept is a little harder to acquire a taste for as I'm not an early-riser.

Bandala explains that we will clean our own tea cups at the sink. "Each of us brooms our own office. We have titles such as executive director, but there really isn't a sense of heirarchy in that one person is better or less than another. Here, you can drop in and see anyone anytime."

It would seem natural for an organization inspired by the Buddha and Gandhi to spill over their peace efforts in a conflict-ridden country to disaster relief. Virtually every bit of coastline suffered losses in the tsunami, including the sparring Sinhalese and Tamils.

"After the tsunami, people just wanted to help. It didn't matter if they were Tamil [ancestral origins in south Indian and Hindu], Sinhalese [mostly Buddhist, but Christian in and around Colombo], or Muslim," Bandala says. So teams from interior and unaffected Tamil villages whom don't even speak the same language (English is a 'linking' language) were paired with their Sinhala-speaking tsunami-affected brethen, and Sinhalese unaffected village teams where paired with Tamil tsunami survivors.

"This is our Motherland. Then why should we be divided into groups? All human beings are the same and they have only one heritage. That is human heritage (manava urumaya) and not hela urumaya or damila urumaya." - Lyrics from award-winning Sri Lanka musician Dr. W.D. Amaradera in his song Sonduru Wu Minisa, from "Geneva Talks a Positive Development", Daily News, January 28, 2006

The "Heart to Heart Village to Village" strategy is quite extensive and encompassed the immediate emergency response all the way out to short-term and long-term plans completed with the participation of each affected village. (BTW, Sarvodaya's always been essentially about village development: both bottom-up and social empowerment.

Here are just two of the guidelines for the "Heart to Heart Village to Village" program:

• Teams will camp in the village and will provide for themselves without in any way burdening the community.
• [My fav:]The team will essentially play the role of a set of "friends" who have come to live and work in the community.

Just as a mother would protect her only child with her life even so let one cultivate a boundless love towards all beings. - sign at Vishva Niketan, the Sarvodaya peace center

tags: disaster relief, grassroots organizing, bottom up, community development, tsunami, katrina peace, buddhism

Burma and Silver Linings

On Friday, I went to Burma (or Mynamar as it's now known) on a visa run.  (My visa was good for 30 days and it was about to expire.)

Part of me felt guilty giving my crisp $5 bill to the military junta. But then again I don't really believe in economic sanctions as the road to peace for the people, either.   

I compiled these photos from my visa run across the Chan River estuary over into Kaw Thaung (in Burmese), Ko Song (in Thai) or Victoria Point (as the British call it) this weekend and titled it "Burma and Silver Linings". And that's before I talked to Cheryl last night at Weerapat's restaurant along Highway 4 in Khao Lak.

Cheryl, a teacher, just moved here "permanently" from the UK to organize and administer eight schools, four Burmese "learning centers", and two daycares under the umbrella of the Tsunami Volunteer Center. When I asked her if she thought all the attention given to the plight of the Burmese after the tsunami was beneficial, she said: "Yeah, it was a silver lining."

When the tsunami hit, illegal Burmese couldn't go down to find their loved ones. They had to flee to the forest to escape being deported. Rumors say that when illegals washed up donned with hotel uniforms, owners denied that they worked at their resort.

Just this evening, I saw a crammed truckload of fifty upright Burmese construction workers going back to camp from a long day's worth of resort construction. I glanced down to the site advertising they were set to "open in September 2006." Paid betweeen 100-150 baht per day, they form the backbone of the rebuilding labor here.

There seems to be widespread agreement with everyone I talk with in putting the number of tsunami deceased in Khao Lak including "stateless" citizens such as chao ley, or sea gypsies, and the Burmese to twice the number quoted by Thai officials for a total of roughly 10,000.

Sea gypsies, such as the group known as the Moken, after generations living in Thailand are finally becoming eligible for Thai citizenship because of the worldwide attention given to the wise tribes whom saved themselves and others in their area when the waters receded prior to the tsunami.

The Burmese are getting better treatment, but citizenship doesn't seem any more imminent than it is for illegal Mexicans in the US.

Even with basic rights, there are always loopholes because the Burmese are considered a lower class. For instance, if a Burmese family has the right paperwork, they can now go to a hospital and pay the same amount for medical care as a Thai (30 baht). That's 30 baht for a pregnant woman to be admitted to have her child. But it's a whopping 5000 baht fee because the newborn is not registered.

A child born on Thai soil to Burmese parents (or to any hill tribe parents in the north and until recently to sea gypsies) is "stateless." I think about my own parents leaving Cuba shortly after Fidel Castro took power. They came into New York state as political refugees and, gratefully, I was born two years later as a U.S. citizen rather than "stateless." That means I had access to public education and when I grew up the right to pursue a legitimate job, to vote and other rights of citizens. In Thailand, without a national identity card, you are not even supposed to leave your village.

But I've learned too much about the situation in Myanmar today and the woes of the Burmese to possibly dump them all on you. Mostly, I wanted to underscore that the international attention on the rights of "stateless" people affected by the tsunami has actually been a positive twist in what was a tragic event. And I wonder, too, if it does the same for the poor and disenfrancised in the Mississippi Gulf regions post-Katrina as well.

Here's more on the learning centers that folks like Cheryl are working in. (P.S. Bang Niang is the third beach in the string of three that comprise the Khao Lak area.)

Dao, Ming and On and 112 more young people are studying at the learning centre located on a rubber plantation in the Bang Niang area. They come to the centre every day, and obviously are happy to be there.

But when asked if they want to go back to Burma, they answer, practically simultaneously, ''Yes''. All three girls said they want to be doctors when they grow up, because they ''want to help other people''.

They study Thai three times a week for a total of nine hours. They also study English, Burmese and other subjects [like math, Cheryl says]. Most of the teachers are Burmese who formerly worked on construction sites and rubber plantations. [Or volunteers on leave from international schools like Jackie.]

Some of the teachers have degrees from universities in Burma, but took unskilled jobs in Thailand to escape the economic and political turmoil in Burma. They are now happy they have a chance to educate their young people and use their knowledge. - "Light on the Horizon", Bangkok Post, December 26, 2005

Bonus: There was a story this week in Bangkok Post on another school, Children of The Forest.