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Walking is many things: A way to think, a way to daydream, a way to relax, a way to exercise, and a way to be less hurried.

In this episode, I dig into the wonders of walking with the aptly named Alissa Walker, the urbanism editor at Curbed, a denizen of Los Angeles (who doesn't own a car!), and a woman who's dedicated to hoofing it.

Alissa and I talk about how walking enriches the rhythms of your day, gives you more inspiration and mobility for creativity, and allows you to engage with your city in a deeper way.
Key takeaways from the conversation:

How walking re-engages you with your local community and makes you a better citizen

Why walking and taking public transport open you up to serendipity

Crazy stats on why walking makes you happier and healthier

The benefits of walking meetings, walking interviews, and walking dates

Experiments you can do to start walking more

RESET, a cosmic tune-up for your workday. RESET is a new course from Hurry Slowly host Jocelyn K. Glei that shows you how to take a "heart-centered" approach to productivity that's intentional, energizing, and inspiring. Watch the 30-second trailer at reset-course.com.

Get Jocelyn's brainwaves in your inbox. If you like Hurry Slowly, you'll love this twice-monthly email highlighting new ideas about how to be more creative, productive, and resilient. Sign up at hurryslowly.co/newsletter.

Favorite Quotes

"I think just being able to surrender yourself to the city, and letting yourself be confronted with all the occurrences (good and bad) that might happen on your way from getting from one place to another - it's a different way of moving about your day - and it will change your brain."

"We're a culture that is going to kill ourselves one way or another as far as our choices about transportation - through either climate change, air pollution, or just the fact that we're not moving as much as we used to."

"I don't know how to convince people of the gift that you get if you allow yourself to go home a different way, or jump on a different bus, and just let yourself get a little lost."

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A short list of the studies, books, and tools that come up during our conversation:

If you enjoyed this episode, we would love your support. Subscribe in iTunes and write us a review.

Every rating helps us attract new listeners, which allows us to keep making the show!

You can write a review on your phone here: hurryslowly.co/mobilereview

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Alissa Walker: Walking Is the Best Way to Go Slow * Hurry Slowly

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Walking is many things: A way to think, a way to daydream, a way to relax, a way to exercise, and a way to be less hurried. In this episode, I dig into the wonders of walking with the aptly named Alissa Walker, the urbanism editor at Curbed, a denizen of Los Angeles (who doesn't own a car!), and a woman who's dedicated to hoofing it.

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check out alissa walker's writing in general as she's a huge walking advocate. https://www.good.is/articles/hey-i-m-walking-in-los-angeles-and-you-can-too

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"Walking in L.A." is a pretty decent 1982 song that's more famous than it deserves to be. This is due to a signature lyric which has become somewhat of a call-and-response whenever anyone mentions Los Angeles and walking. What's that, you're going for a walk? Nobody walks in L.A.

That statement is, of course, categorically untrue: Every day, millions of people in this city use some combination of mass transit and their own two feet, the same people who probably have also never heard of the band Missing Persons (or what I think is their far superior song, "Words"; compare/contrast yourself). But as much as I want to believe that walking is an acceptable, perhaps even enjoyable activity in this city, as I walked with a group of people from downtown to Hollywood last weekend, the number one question asked by anyone as they rolled past us-yes, usually in a car-was this: "What are you walking for?"

"What are you walking for?" or, sometimes, "What are you walking for?" As if any pedestrian effort was such a huge imposition it had to be for charity. We're just walking, I thought. Isn't that enough?

Despite the fact that there are plenty of walkers in Los Angeles, there might be a trend of extreme walking in Los Angeles right now. For the last three years The Great Los Angeles Walk has famously traveled a boulevard from downtown to the Pacific Ocean, ranging anywhere from 12 to 18 miles in a day. There's Mathieu Young's Walkabout, four-day, 20-mile L.A. stroll with a strobe light, featured on this very site. And there are individuals like Walking in LA, whose anonymous author has been documenting long walks in town since 2002 (recently walking our Metro Gold Line extension, opening any day now). It's almost as if the act of extreme walking might will the rest of the city to fall in step behind you. "The point of our event is to show that Los Angeles can be walked," agrees Dan Koeppel (below, pointing skyward) an outdoor journalist who organized the two-day, 40-mile, 100+ stairway event last weekend, named The Big Parade. "This is one city that can be walked, and enjoyed, as an outdoor, urban, and cultural experience."

It was diverse, enlightening terrain. Our very first stairway paralleled the Angels Flight Railway, which shuttled passengers to the top of downtown's Bunker Hill beginning in 1901 (and will creak back into operation soon). The walk ended just below the Hollywood sign, on the hiking paths that were carved into Griffith Park starting in 1896, when Griffith J. Griffith bequeathed the land what would become one of the largest and most rugged urban parks in the country (and then might have shot his wife in the head, but that's a story for another time). We walked by Modernist mansions and cinderblock apartments. Ate tamales and sushi. We saw guerrilla gardens and makeshift mosaics and graffiti galleries, and not one, but two, houses painted in Lakers colors. And a dog with dreadlocks. And an armless mannequin who looked like a backup singer for Duran Duran.

Our route ventured into 10 urban parks, and may have made history in one of them. Thanks to sympathetic powers in City Hall and the Department of Recreation and Parks, we received special permission to camp-10 of us-in the city park at the foot of the most famous stairway in the city, the Music Box Steps, named for the 1936 Laurel & Hardy film made there (you can watch it at that link). And if you think that people give you weird looks when you're walking, you should see the faces of early morning dog walkers as they watched us climbing out of mummy bags and tents. Actually, I think they just assumed we were homeless but had really nice gear.

At every meeting place on the route-every single one-our fellow walkers appeared out of the shade. Over 250 people joined us at various points along the way; at one point, 50 people were waiting for us at a single location. And I shall never forget the kindness of strangers. Someone along the route threw open a cooler full of beer on his driveway. One woman was waiting for us at her house with ice-cold watermelon.

All along the trail we were following-the reason the stairs all existed-was the echo of the streetcars that zipped passengers around the city pre-freeway. (Although how those passengers huffed up all 236 of the Baxter Steps in their lace-up boots and petticoats, I do not know.) Just west of downtown we zig-zagged down steps that the neighborhood used to access a now filled-in Red Car tunnel that went to Hollywood. 10 miles later we visited the Corralitas Red Car site, where we were guided by resident Diane Edwardson, who has documented the history of the former right-of-way as well as the plight of developers to get their hands on the hilly real estate. Some places you could squint and see the how the rows of bungalows gently sloped down to a soft grassy canyon where tracks used to be.

And suddenly, as we rolled over a 710-foot summit in the Echo Park neighborhood into a former spiritual retreat, 60 of us marching single-file down the brick and stone steps custom-built by the first homeowners, I realized that we actually were walking for something. Sidewalks are one thing, but the hundreds of public stairways in L.A. are a unique infrastructural element in that they were made only for people. By drawing attention to them physically-the sweeping civic staircases, the dark secret passageways, the trampled dusty cut-throughs-and also symbolically-the published-in-books maps, the hand-drawn neighborhood maps, the GPS-enabled Google maps-we might create enough awareness to show that Los Angeles is not only great for pedestrians, but actually built for pedestrians.

As it turns out-and quite unintentionally-our unofficial walk for walking did exactly that. "I've been contacted by several branches of the city government who'd like to work with us on pedestrian access issues and permanent routes," says Koeppel, who notes that he has also received related requests from the city council and the parks department. "Pedestrian advocates from Beverly Hills and the South Bay have also asked for information on what we've done and how we did it."

And there's also talk within L.A.'s City Hall about a neighborhood trails system, a series of "best routes" for walking, hiking and biking inspired by cycling advocacy group C.I.C.L.E'.s list of L.A.'s bike routes and a signage system by designer Joseph Prichard. As our walk proved, no new sidewalks or bike paths need to be built to make this work. It's just a matter of knowing which way to walk. And of course, knowing what you're walking for.
Camping photo by Lisa Anne Auerbach, more photos by myself, Steve Matsuda and Larry Gassan.

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"Walking in L.A." is a pretty decent 1982 song that's more famous than it deserves to be. This is due to a signature lyric which has become somewhat of a call-and-response whenever anyone mentions Los Angeles and walking. What's that, you're going for a walk? Nobody walks in L.A....

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The House that Came in the Mail podcast episode (on 99% Invisible)

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The House that Came in the Mail podcast episode (on 99% Invisible)

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One of my all time favorites :)

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The Sears & Roebuck Mail Order Catalog was nearly omnipresent in early 20th century American life. By 1908, one fifth of Americans were subscribers. Anyone anywhere in the country could order a copy for free, look through it, and then have anything their heart desired delivered directly to their doorstep. At its peak, the Sears catalog offered over 100,000 items on 1,400 pages. It weighed four pounds.

Today, those 1,400 pages provide us with a snapshot of American life in the first decade of the 20th century, from sheep-shearing machines and cream separators to telephones and china cabinets. The Sears catalog tells the tale of a world - itemized. And starting in 1908, the company that offered America everything began offering what just might be its most audacious product line ever: houses.

From 1908 to 1940, the Sears Modern Homes Program offered complete mail-order houses to the would-be homeowner - what would come to be called "kit homes." Customers could select from dozens of different models in Sears Modern Homes Catalog, order blueprints, send in a check, and a few weeks later everything they needed would arrive in a train car, its door secured with a small red wax seal (just like the seal on the back of a letter).

This seal was to be broken on arrival by the new owner, who would open up their boxcar to find over 10,000 pieces of framing lumber, 20,000 cedar shakes and almost everything else needed to build the home - all the doors, even the doorknobs.

The lumber came precut, kind of like a giant Ikea set, along with an instruction booklet. Sears promised that, working without a carpenter and only rudimentary skills, a person could finish their Sears mail order home in less than 90 days.

Sears would go on to ship out some 75,000 homes across the country. In so doing, they helped usher out the era of the custom site-built house, replacing it with the promise that homes could be standardized and affordable. Long before the advent of housing developments and the modern suburb it was the Sears kit home that gave Americans their first taste of 20th century domestic life. But it's also a chapter of housing history that was almost lost.

Mailed to Order

Sears was not the first company to offer kit homes or a mail order catalog, but it came to dominate the mail-order market in part because its founder, Richard Sears, was that kind of expert that so many people would claim to be over the course of the 20th century but very few actually were: he was a marketing genius. For example, according to lore, he intentionally made the Sears Roebuck catalog a little shorter and narrower than the Montgomery Ward one on the theory that it would naturally get stacked on top.

By 1907, Sears and Roebuck was selling the then equivalent of $1.3 billion of merchandise to American families every year. And it's around this time that Richard Sears saw a way to sell even more.

Most American families at the time were still living in multi-generational housing. The reigning paradigm of the middle class was the Victorian home with all of these different little rooms for different family members. Sears looked at this idyllic scene of families living in harmony and saw ... a wasted opportunity. Why should newlyweds move into old homes filled with old things when they could move into new homes and fill them with new things from Sears?

The resulting Sears Modern Home Program was a hit, particularly after the end of World War I, the influx of returning veterans triggered a need for more housing. Sears prefabricated almost all of these homes in giant mills situated across the country.

Located in Cairo Illinois, the largest of these mills covered nearly 40 acres, and the sheer variety of homes it shipped out was staggering.

Their first Modern Homes catalog already had over 40 models to choose from, but Sears would go on to offer 447 different designs.

Every house in the catalog had a name befitting its architectural aspirations. So if you always dreamed of living in a California mission style home, but couldn't actually move to California, you might consider purchasing Sears' Alhambra model. Other styles included the Vallonia, the Martha Washington and the Crescent. They ranged from modest and cozy cabins to expansive mansions. Sears even offered a six-classroom schoolhouse, complete with an auditorium and library.

Of course, these were just empty houses when they were built, ready to be filled with stuff - ideally, stuff from Sears. The company could sell you everything you needed: the house, the furniture, and all the things to put on the furniture - a whole new life, all from Sears.

Sears offered the promise of convenience at every level. It even had an ad in the front of the catalog showing two Rodessa models - one of Sears most popular houses - being built side by side. One was built from scratch, essentially, using ordinary building materials and uncut "stick" lumber. The other utilized precut lumber. The message was clear: it would be much easier to build from Sears' precut parts.

For many families, these were their first homes with things like insulation and central heating. In some neighborhoods, a Sears kit home might be the only house on a block with electricity.

Then, in 1911, Sears began offering mortgages to their customers. Like everything else, they made these easy - maybe too easy. The Sears home mortgage program started out as one of their keys to success. In lowering the barrier to entry, it had allowed Sears to sell far more kit homes far faster than any of its competitors. But when the Great depression Hit, things got ugly fast. The company ended up foreclosing on tens of thousands of its very own customers. It was a public relations disaster.

After years of declining sales, Sears would finally close its Modern Homes department in 1940. A few other kit home manufactures - ones that hadn't sold mortgages - survived, but the Sears kit home boom was over. Then came World War II, and with it, the next modern housing boom, featuring the rise of the suburbs and the prefab home - the kinds of homes we know today.

Meanwhile, most existing Sears homes ended up being sold to new owners who didn't know what they'd bought, or didn't care to know. Despite the high quality of the materials, over the decades, as the company became associated with convenience over and above quality, no one wanted to admit that they lived in a home that came from the Sears catalog. It was embarrassing. So a lot of them ended up being renovated beyond recognition. Many were torn down. Others were simply abandoned. And the records for those that remained were destroyed, making it hard to locate Sears homes today.

Kit House Hunting

A little over twenty years ago, on a cold winter day in Elgin, Illinois (a bit outside of Chicago), Rebecca Hunter picked up an old Sears catalog and took it on a walk around the neighborhood, wondering if she might find a real-life home matching the house designs in the book. She wasn't an architecture expert, or a Sears expert. She was just curious.

Elgin wasn't known for its Sears homes - when Hunter moved into the area, it wasn't really on her radar, or anyone else's. When she went out on her trek, she recalls she "wasn't expecting to find any." It was just for fun, she says, but, "I had a goal. I had a mission and I forgot about the cold." Yet within a matter of minutes, she spotted her first Sears home: a craftsman-style Avalon that matched her catalog. As she took more and more walks, she found more and more examples.

Hunter started taking notes about styles and locations, but she also wanted to verify her finds. So she began reaching out to residents, sending out mailers asking owners to inspect their homes for special beams bearing part numbers from Sears. Some also found shipping labels on the backs of baseboards, or original Sears blueprints. So far, she and her fellow kit house hunters have found over 200 in Elgin.

Remarkably, too, most of the Sears homes Hunter found looked like they were straight out of the catalog. They had barely been altered since the 1920s. She was able to find so many not because Elgin had the most Sears homes but because the homes could still be recognized, thanks to a perfect storm of historical conditions.

When the Elgin Watch Factory, which had employed a quarter of the town, closed in 1964, Elgin entered a localized recession, sparing it from the renovation craze of the 1960s and 70s. Instead, Elgin's Sears homes simply sat there through the decades, largely untouched. The closing of the watch factory froze the town in time.

Hunter's study of the Elgin homes, along with the work of other researchers, would help to launch fresh interest in historic kit homes, not just there but also around the country. Today, a crew of kit home hunters has self-styled specialists who organize databases, search Google maps, and photograph historic homes. Mostly, though, they hunt for houses the old fashioned way, by meeting up in groups of two and three and four and cruising slowly down the streets of obscure midwest towns, in a car, together.

These and other house hunters have helped identify nearly 50,000 kit homes from Sears and other companies. So the next time a ragtag team of researchers armed with cameras, laptops and an old Sears catalog knocks on your door asks if they can take a quick tour or your basement, don't be frightened. They're there to help. And who knows? You might even be standing in an as yet undiscovered model.

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The House that Came in the Mail - 99% Invisible

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The Sears & Roebuck Mail Order Catalog was nearly omnipresent in early 20th century American life. By 1908, one fifth of Americans were subscribers. Anyone anywhere in the country could order a copy for free, look through it, and then have anything their heart desired delivered directly to their doorstep.

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Right to Roam podcast episode (on 99% Invisible)

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Right to Roam podcast episode (on 99% Invisible)

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this would be us

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When 99% Invisible producer Katie Mingle's father Jim Mingle retired, he began walking -a lot. He'd always been a walker, but with more time, he took up long-distance, multi-day trips. And even though he's an American, he mostly preferred to walk in the UK. In fact, over the course of a decade, he walked the entire length of Great Britain.

On one of his many trips, Jim found he needed to hitchhike (rather than walk) back to the village where he was staying. A jeep pulled up and he hopped in. The driver was dressed in a traditional tweed outfit with a funny cap. He introduced himself as the gamekeeper for Madonna and her then husband, Guy Ritchie. Katie's dad had been walking across their private estate.

This walk across private land was not unusual. Thousands of distance walkers in Britain, regularly do the same thing , which is different from what people typically do in the United States. If you wanted to walk across America, you'd have to do it on a combination of public trails and roads and you certainly couldn't cut across Madonna's property.

In the United Kingdom, the freedom to walk through private land is known as "the right to roam." The movement to win this right was started in the 1930s by a rebellious group of young people who called themselves "ramblers" and spent their days working in the factories of Manchester, England.

Manchester was a dirty, grimy industrial town in the 1930s, but close to a beautiful area known as the Peak District. However, this open countryside was closed to the workers of Manchester at the time.

It hadn't always been this way. For hundreds of years, an idea of "the commons" had existed in England. From about the 5th to the 15th century, kings and lords controlled all the land but peasants had rights to live on it and use it in exchange for various type of service.

Ken Ilgunas, author of This Land is Our Land, says that peasants in England could graze their cattle, cut lumber, draw water and collect peat from these common lands.

Beginning in the 1400s, when wool prices rose across Europe, landowners began fencing their land in order to graze sheep more efficiently -an act that became known as "enclosure." Landowners cleared entire villages of people, making them homeless, and put up stone walls and hedges to mark the boundaries of their property.

Over the years, Parliament created more and more laws to keep landless farmers and agricultural workers from using what was once common land. From 1760 to 1870, about a sixth of England went from common lands to enclosed private property.

People were so desperate to continue hunting on this once-common land that they came at night and covered their faces in soot for extra camouflage. They were known as "the blacks," and in 1723 Parliament passed the Black Act, which created a number of offences related to trespass, some of which were punishable by death.

Eventually the death penalty for trespassing was eliminated, but the land remained closed to the vast majority of people. As England industrialized in the 1800s, workers were further separated from the land and unable to find places for recreation.

England did not have a national park system at this time, and the trails that people could access were extremely limited. They walked where they could and trespassed where they couldn't. They climbed over fences and tried to stay hidden from the gamekeepers. And all over England, so-called rambling clubs started to form. And in polluted, industrial 1930s Manchester, there was a rambling club called the British Worker's Sports Federation and a charismatic member named Benny Rothman.

One day, a few people from Benny's group were walking in the hills near Manchester, but they were soon chased off by gamekeepers employed by the landowner. Benny and the other ramblers thought: if there were enough of us they couldn't stop us. Let's get a huge group together and walk onto this mountain called Kinder Scout.

A motley crew of hikers gathered at the base of the mountain, and Benny Rothman talked about the rights they had lost during the enclosure acts. He emphasized that the trespass on Kinder Scout was meant to be peaceful. And with that, the group set off up the mountain. At some point, the hikers did have a small scuffle with some gamekeepers, but the keepers backed off after they realized they were outnumbered.

The trespass was a success. They openly walked on Kinder Scout and it all probably would have ended right there if the police hadn't decided to make some arrests. Six ringleaders were arrested and five were later given prison sentences from two to six months. The effect of this was to give the trespass national attention and a lot of popular support.

The young ramblers of Manchester had set in motion changes that would transform how England thinks about private property. The Kinder Scout trespass has been described as one of the most successful acts of civil disobedience ever in the history of the country.

A folk singer named Ewan MacColl memorialized the event with a song:

... I'm a rambler from Manchester way
I get all me pleasure the hard moorland way
I may be a wage slave on Monday
but I am a free man on Sunday.

After the trespass, the rambling groups continued to push for expanded access. There were more trespasses, and in 1951, when Britain opened its first national park, it was in the Peak District.

But it wasn't until the year 2000 that the ramblers got what they always wanted - an act of Parliament that opened up huge sections of the country where people could roam free.

Other European countries have similar laws, and some have gone even further. Norway, Finland, Sweden and Scotland provide nearly universal access to the whole countryside.

In the United States, we have an incredible system of national parks, but very few rights to wander through private property. The idea of opening up private land to the public seems almost un-American.

But that wasn't always the case. In the early days of this country, it was common practice to hunt and fish on private land if it wasn't enclosed by a fence. In an 1862 essay entitled, " Walking," Henry David Thoreau wrote that he feared that one day, "walking over the surface of God's earth shall be construed to mean trespassing on some gentleman's grounds." That day may have come even sooner than Thoreau feared. Ken Ilgunas says our concept of private property began to change just a few years later, following the Civil War. Louisiana, shortly after the end of the war, criminalized trespassing in part as a response to former slaves now having free access to the countryside.

There were other reasons as well. With the invention of barbed wire, the open ranges all but disappeared. Native Americans were forced off their communal lands onto reservations. The land was then sold to settlers and fenced. Land-grants to the railroads and the Homestead Act of 1862 turned great swaths of public land to private ownership.

Ken Ilgunas believes Americans should be fighting for the kind of recreational access that exists in many European countries. And so does Jim Mingle, who loved the freedom to walk across private land. "It felt like the whole country was open to you," he says.

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When 99% Invisible producer Katie Mingle's father Jim Mingle retired, he began walking -a lot. He'd always been a walker, but with more time, he took up long-distance, multi-day trips. And even though he's an American, he mostly preferred to walk in the UK.

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A few walking routes Sarah has completed

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A few walking routes Sarah has completed

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let's add some!

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Mariame Kaba's Black Women of Harlem Walking Tour

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Mariame Kaba's Black Women of Harlem Walking Tour

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MK forever

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Research and Writing by Asha Futterman (BC '21) and Mariame Kaba
Map design by Arrianna Planey
Publication design by Neta Bomani
Download the Guide (PDF)
Harlem is both an idea and a place. What became known as the 'Black Mecca' began as a farming village inhabited first by the Lenape and then by the Dutch. The first Black people in Harlem, both freed and enslaved, worked on farms in the area known as Niew Haarlem. New Haarlem was formally established as a settlement by Peter Stuyvesant in 1658 and was named after the Dutch city of Haarlem. For generations, the sole connection between Niew Haarlem and Niew Amsterdam was a diagonal road built on an old Native path: a street we now call Broadway...

Learn more about this history and the extraordinary contributions of radical Black women who built community, fought for freedom, and imagined other futures, including Williana Jones Burroughs, Regina Anderson Andrews, Ella Baker, Claudia Jones, Lorraine Hansberry, Salaria Kee, Madame C.J. Walker, A'Lelia Walker, Victoria Earle Matthews, Zora Neale Hurston, Louise Thompson Patterson, Dorothy Height, Pauli Murray, Amy Ashwood Garvey, Billie Holiday, Audre Lorde, Madame Stephanie St. Clair, Marvel Cooke, Eslanda Goode Robeson, Una Mulzac, Grace Campbell, and Willie Mae Mallory.
Above, Asha Futterman leading the first Radical Black Women Walking Tour on April 7, 2019, with over 35 people in attendance, co-facilitated by Mariame Kaba.
The Radical Black Women of Harlem Walking Tour offers an important contribution to the effort to uplift Black women's intellectual, social and political work. We encourage community members, students, and educators to use this guidebook to organize tours in New York City, or as inspiration to design guidebooks in other neighborhoods and cities. Download the guide here.
Header image credit: Ola Ronke Akinmade
Photo credit: Matt Harvey Read Asha Futterman's reflections in "Because of Them, I Am Not Alone: Radical Black Women of Harlem."Read Mariame Kaba's reflections in "Genealogy of a Walking Tour."

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Radical Black Women of Harlem Walking Tour | Barnard Center for Research on Women

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The Radical Black Women of Harlem Walking Tour was researched by Asha Futterman with support from Mariame Kaba, with map design by Arrianna Planey, and publication design by Neta Bomani. This tour guide is designed for educational and organizing use by students, educators, and community members.

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a motherload of WONDERFUL little interviews with artists. highly rec

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The Cre­ative In­de­pen­dent is a re­source of emo­tional and prac­ti­cal guid­ance for cre­ative peo­ple.

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one of my favorite podcast eps

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Tyler Cowen: The Quiet Dangers of Complacency

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Economist Tyler Cowen on how technology is making us more complacent and less willing to take the risks that drive self-transformation.

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a treet for you

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Have you heard of Joe Pera? If not, watch his show please....https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SSTixeqrkIw

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Relaxing Old Footage With Joe Pera | adult swim

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Culture
Slow Television, or Slow TV, is the term used to describe marathon coverage of an event, typically shown in real-time. The genre was first popularized in 2009, after the Norwegian Broadcasting Corporation (NRK) broadcast a 7-hour train journey.

This brief explanation has undoubtedly left you with more questions than answers. Where did this phenomenon come from? Why is it so popular in Norway? Who actually wants to watch a 7-hour train journey? All valid, which is why we've compiled this guide for you.

What is Slow TV?

The origin of Slow TV is unclear, but one could argue that it's rooted in fine art. Specifically, Andy Warhol's 1964 film Sleep, which showed poet John Giorno sleeping for five hours and twenty minutes. Experimental poet Ron Padgett published a sonnet responding to the film after its premiered at the Gramercy Arts Theatre in 1964, a showing which two people walked out of. The sonnet consisted of 14 lines of continuous "zzzz"s.

The concept of Slow TV is to show something at the rate it is experienced, as opposed to the speed with which a narrative drama is told. There is no editing or script, as it's built around transition and movement instead of tension and plot. It goes beyond definitions of "naturalism," which still condenses human experience into bitesize pieces. It is the portrayal of often mundane experiences in real-time, like a train journey or knitting, as a human would experience it.

Norwegian Slow TV

After the success of NRK's first Slow TV transmission, Bergensbanen - Minutt for Minutt, the station aired further train routes, a coastal boat voyage ( Hurtigruten), the opening day of fishing season on the Gaula River ( Lakseelva), and a 12-hour-long broadcast on firewood ( Nasjonal vedkveld) which received 1 million viewers and international attention.

NRK has continued to show a handful of Slow TV shows a year, with topics ranging from journeys to meat production, academic lectures to clocks.

Popularity of Slow TV

Slow TV is often grouped together with the Slow Movement: a cultural movement that advocates for the slowing down of life's pace, sparked by the Slow Food Movement of 1986. A life lived observing the principles of slow philosophy is a life spent "savoring the hours and minutes rather than just counting them" explains Carl Honoré, a leading figure of the movement. It would be fair to say that Slow TV fits within this definition, as its passive nature allows the viewer space to reflect and contemplate, instead of feeling bombarded with information.

As New Yorker journalist Nathan Heller puts it: "Slow TV seems slow in part because, unlike our standard experience of the world, it's unshaped by interior consciousness. Instead of drowning out its viewers' inner lives, it seems to want to be a backdrop that can give rise to their own reflections. A slow-TV program is like a great view you encounter on vacation: it's always there, impervious, but it gains meaning and a story depending on what it conjures in your head."

In a world where mindfulness is often touted as the answer to increasing anxiety, Slow TV works to provide a mindful space without rejecting technological advancements. In fact, it welcomes them, as the subject matters benefit from the high definition they are filmed in. It is void of nostalgia or a yearning for simpler times. Instead, it offers a tool for navigating a future it can seem we are hurtling towards while providing a space to indulge in reflection and meditation. In short, it provides escapism by grounding the viewer in the immediate present.

The popularity of Slow TV in Norway is perhaps linked to a societal appreciation and respect of the country's epic natural beauty, or a desire to stay connected to it despite intense modernization throughout the country.

Whatever the reason, NRK's slow broadcasts continue to pull incredible viewing rates and nation-wide discussion. Hurtigruten, was watched by approximately half the Norwegian population and captured three wedding proposals and a glimpse of Norway's Queen waving during its live stream.

Which Slow TV Shows to Watch

Bergensbanen - Minutt for Minutt

There's no better introduction to Slow TV than the epic train journey from Bergen to Oslo which popularized the genre. Beautiful scenery and swooping train track curves are interspersed with plunges into darkness as the train progresses through tunnels. Don't worry, there's always a light at the end.

Piip-show

For anyone who finds magic in the simple lives of animals, the Piip-show offers incredible access to a small group of birds enjoying their time in a birdhouse - staged like a café - and even an errant red squirrel who makes an appearance.

Six hours of a herd of sheep grazing below the vines of Shafer Vineyards outside Napa, California. This film is hypnotic. At first they appear to not be moving, but they are in fact slowly and methodically moving across the the ground and they single-mindedly chomp on grass. There are even more nuances to be discovered after 6 hours and 13 minutes of relaxing study.

Knit along or get lost in the hypnotic rhythm of knit one pearl one with NKR's National Knitting Evening - a 2013 live attempt to break the world record for quickest time knitting a jumper. Whoever said Slow TV was boring never watched this: they literally shear a sheep on screen.

Fireplace For Your Home: Crackling Birchwood

Netflix's contribution to Slow TV comes in the form of a crackling fireplace. Surprisingly compelling viewing, fires have an ability to transfix us and this quality is not lost when committed to film. The roaring fire never dwindles in this hour-long show that will warm you up and slow you down.

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Culture Slow Television, or Slow TV, is the term used to describe marathon coverage of an event, typically shown in real-time. The genre was first popularized in 2009, after the Norwegian Broadcasting Corporation (NRK) broadcast a 7-hour train journey. This brief explanation has undoubtedly left you with more questions than answers.

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a little known early jenny o presentation 

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a little known early jenny o presentation 

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you're going to love this. especially the end.

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Jenny Odell at Eyeo 2017
| How to do Nothing |
Decades before the advent of social media as we know it, Gilles Deleuze observed that it was “a relief to have nothing to say, the right to say nothing, because only then is there a chance of framing the rare, and ever rarer, thing that might be worth saying.” Nothing has become more precious, in today’s economy of attention, than nothing. In this talk Jenny covers various instances of nothing from art history and contemporary projects, arguing that the cultivation of nothing has new salience in the age of everything.

jennyodell.com
@the_jennitaur

eyeofestival.com
@eyeofestival

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default filename tv finds and plays youtube videos that were uploaded from the camera without edits to the filename.

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default filename tv 📺

📺 default filename tv 📺

default filename tv finds and plays youtube videos that were uploaded from the camera without edits to the filename.

(although strict safesearch is on, videos are not screened in advance - please watch with care)

another video -->

everest pipkin, 2019 .

YouTube Terms Of Service ||
Google Privacy Policy .

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default filename tv 📺 📺 default filename tv 📺 default filename tv finds and plays youtube videos that were uploaded from the camera without edits to the filename. (although strict safesearch is on, videos are not screened in advance - please watch with care) another video --> everest pipkin, 2019 .

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All good music and mixes found here!!!

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FREE ARTS NYC HEAVY WARMUP AND DANCE VIBRATION (Unlocked Bonus)

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Jenny Odell interviewed by Ezra Klein (it's good i promise)

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Jenny Odell interviewed by Ezra Klein (it's good i promise)

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J.O. FAN CLUB UNITE!

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"For some, there may be a kind of engineer's satisfaction in the streamlining and networking of our entire lived experience," writes Jenny Odell. "And yet a certain nervous feeling, of being overstimulated and unable to sustain a train of thought, lingers."
Odell is the author of How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy. And she's a visual artist who has taught digital and physical design at Stanford since 2013, as well as done residencies at Facebook, the San Francisco Planning Department, the Dump, and the Internet Archive.
All of which is to say she's the perfect person to talk with about creativity and attention in a world designed to flatten both. In this conversation, we discuss the difference between productivity and creativity, how artists orchestrate attention, the ideologies we use to value our time, what it means to do nothing, restoring context to our lives and words, why "groundedness requires actual ground," lucid dreaming, the joys of bird-watching, my difficulty appreciating conceptual art, her difficulty with meditation, and much more.
Book recommendations:
Natural Causes: An Epidemic of Wellness, the Certainty of Dying, and Killing Ourselves to Live Longer by Barbara Ehrenreich
The Nature and Functions of Dreaming by Ernest Hartmann
Cults: Faith, Healing, and Coercion by Mark Galanter
The Spell of the Sensuous: Perception and Language in a More-Than-Human World by David Abram
Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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‎Vox Conversations: The art of attention (with Jenny Odell) on Apple Podcasts

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‎"For some, there may be a kind of engineer's satisfaction in the streamlining and networking of our entire lived experience," writes Jenny Odell. "And yet a certain nervous feeling, of being overstimulated and unable to sustain a train of thought, lingers." Odell is the author of How to Do Nothing:...

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i heard this is a good read

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Part six in Walking in L.A., a GOOD miniseries by Ryan Bradley on transportation in Los Angeles and what it's like to get across the entire city on foot.
I've been east of Downtown Los Angeles a day before I find them: the walkers. There are 16 of us, men and women, thirtysomethings and the middle-aged, fanny-packed and sweat-suited we stand at the ready. Before I was here in the parking lot of Baller Hardware on Hyperion Avenue, I was in Griffith Park. Before that: Los Feliz, Silver Lake, Echo Park, Solano Canyon, and Angelino Heights-lovely hilly places all, and wonderful for walking. It's just after 7:30 p.m., and we are listening to the man we have come here to see, the man who will lead us on this night walk. Our route will be three miles long and circuitous, taking us up and down 14 stairways, though never the same stairs twice. The man's name is Dan Koeppel.

"We try to walk the pace of the slowest person, but we lost someone last week, so keep together," Koeppel tells us. Then he gives us an exciting pitch: "Tomorrow night we're doing a full moon walk across Griffith Park to the Hollywood sign. It's 14 miles."

There is a short silence followed by a few questions, like how long that will take. "I have no clue how long it will take. It could take all night," Koeppel responds. Someone else asks if the park is really open all night and Koeppel answers with confidence: "Sure, if you keep moving."

Koeppel grew up in New York City and remembers taking the subway to midtown when he was young and loving the crush of people and the fact that you had to deal with it. He moved to Los Angeles in 1992 and about 10 years later, while he was writing a book that had nothing to do with walking, Koeppel began to seek out the public stairways in his Silver Lake neighborhood. Because he is meticulous and a little bit obsessive, he started mapping his routes very carefully. And because he is a writer, he wrote about his hobby. And because he is a generous person, he started leading people on his walks. And, well, now "I've kind of become this gadfly journalist-activist," he says, as if it were bound to happen given enough time.

And here I have to add: I know Dan Koeppel because he wrote for National Geographic Adventure, a magazine I used to work for. Dan wrote a brilliant story about a banana that would save all other bananas from a terrible blight, but could only be found in deepest Congo. He told our photo editor she could only assign him a photographer who would be able to ride a motorcycle through the jungle at high speeds, to keep up with him. The story never ran because the magazine shut down, but there in the Congo Dan found his grail banana.

What is interesting about Koeppel for the purposes of this story is that, when he moved to Los Angeles from New York, he brought with him the image of what vibrant city life should look like. And slowly, over time, through some obsession and a lot of civic pride, he did something about it-he became a transit activist, a title I bet he hates. East of the 101 freeway, in these hilly old neighborhoods, this same basic story line has been repeated everywhere: from illegally painted bike lanes by the Department of DIY to the Bicycle Kitchen or L.A. Eco-Village. Koeppel's contribution, beyond these evening jaunts, is The Big Parade, a 35-mile, two day long trek through the city and its stairs with a 8,250 foot elevation gain which, Koeppel likes to point out, is the equivalent of climbing Mount Whitney. (GOOD's in-house walking expert, the aptly named Alissa Walker, wrote about last year's Big Parade here and leads architecture themed walks with Koeppel).

The important part about Koeppel's walks, even his epic ones, isn't that they prove how gnarly city walking can be, but how enjoyable. The Big Parade is segmented so participants can join for as long (or as short) a distance as they want, and a friendlier, more jovial scene there ain't (this is what I've been told. If I was in Los Angeles on June 12 I'd walk it too). After all, once enough people come and bring their friends, and their friends' friends, well, pretty soon you have a movement, and when you have a movement maybe things will actually change. Or, you can just go out and paint a bike lane or build a 99-foot tower in your backyard by yourself.

The next day, I learn that the Griffith Park 14-miler has been shorted to seven miles, probably so more people could participate. But also, I think, because walking 14 miles throughout the night for pleasure seems a little insane.

We start to talk, the walkers and I, and we agree that it's kind of novel, walking in a city that isn't supposed to be walkable. We start to swap city secrets, trade inside information, one-up each other with our street intel. I learn about a vineyard in the Hollywood Hills after I mention the dog-park there. I find out that much of this neighborhood, when it was being developed at the beginning of the 20th century, is named after Sir Walter Scott's Ivanhoe, and that the stairs were built in the 1920s and are considered public streets, and that, not far from here, there's a city road a mile long that's still completely dirt, same as it was a century ago. Then I make an amateur move: I tell a few of my fellow walkers that I'm writing a story about walking in Los Angeles, that I've been walking across the city, and so ends the secret-sharing; which is fine because frankly, climbing a lot of stairs and talking is hard.

By the end of the three miles it's dark out and some of the spookier stairways require a significant amount of trust, or a flashlight. Descending the last flight of the night, three teenagers emerge from the shadows, red-eyed and sheepish. There's the faintest smell of weed in the air, and they stand back against the concrete and watch the group pass by in silence. I'm near the back, and one of them asks, softly:

"What are you guys doing?"

"Just walking," I say.

"You guys, like, united or something?"

"Yeah. We're united."

Next up: I am inside a scene from a movie, specifically Live Free or Die Hard. You know, the one where terrorists hacked into the system that controls all the traffic signal and wrecked havoc. That's the one.

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Walking in L.A.: Transit Activism Is Cooler Than You Think

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Part six in Walking in L.A., a GOOD miniseries by Ryan Bradley on transportation in Los Angeles and what it's like to get across the entire city on foot. I've been east of Downtown Los Angeles a day before I find them: the walkers. There are 16 of us, men and women, thirtysomethi...

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the house modernity built (mini-zine house/mycelium)

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the house modernity built (mini-zine house/mycelium)

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inspired by Audre Lorde’s famous insight that

“… the master’s tools will never dismantle the master’s house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change.”

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house mycelium mini-zine pdf (v. 3.1 updated 29.06.2018)

house mycelium text pdf (updated 02.07.2018)

Video on how to fold the mini-zine:
From the house that modernity built to healthy mycelium
This mini-zine is a pedagogical experiment that invites conversations about our collective existence in a planet facing unprecedented crises. These conversations change the zine as well, therefore there are many different versions of it (like a palimpsest). We are interested in the conversations that are mobilized by the mini-zine rather than in getting the descriptions/representations right. What we present is one of many possible diagnoses and propositions.

The mini-zine presents two cartographies that comprise a theory-of-change. Every theory of change is made up of a diagnosis of the present, and a proposition about a horizon for change. On one side of this mini-zine there is a diagnosis (the house), on the other side, the proposition for a horizon and for a way of moving together (mushrooms and mycelium).

Each side of the zine presents a different social cartography. On one side, the social cartography "The House Modernity Built" offers a diagnosis of the present focusing on a modern/colonial global imaginary in which being is reduced to knowing, profits take precedent over people, the earth is treated as a resource rather than a living relation, and the shiny promises of states, markets, and Western reason are subsidized by the disavowed harms of impoverishment, genocide, and environmental destruction. On the other side of the zine, the social cartography "In Earth's CARE" invites conversations about the possibility of setting horizons of hope beyond the house that modernity built. Through an earth centered metaphor, it proposes that ecological and economic justice (mushrooms) are not viable without cognitive, affective and relational justice (healthy mycelium). Together the social cartographies point to the need for a different kind of education where we see ourselves as part of a wider metabolism and where we learn to hospice modernity, learning from its recurrent mistakes, in order to open our imaginaries and make only new mistakes as we assist with the birth of something new, undefined, and potentially, but not necessarily, wiser.
The house modernity built
The social cartography "The house modernity built" was inspired by Audre Lorde's famous insight that

"... the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house. They may allow us temporarily to beat him at his own game, but they will never enable us to bring about genuine change."

The first four frames at the top of the cartography present a brief analysis of contemporary social structures and institutions facing social, political, ecological and economic crises. The four frames at the bottom of the cartography offer an analysis of how modernity affects our reasoning, our sense of self and reality, our desires, and our perceived entitlements, impairing our capacity to feel, to hope, to relate, and to be and imagine differently.

This cartography synthesizes critiques of modernity that have been mobilized in Indigenous, Black, and Decolonial practices and studies, Post-development and Post-colonial theory, and (different forms of) Psychoanalysis, through the works of communities, as well as scholars like Gayatri Spivak, Frantz Fanon, Denise Ferreira da Silva, Nelson Maldonado-Torres, Fred Moten, Arturo Escobar, Vandana Shiva, Boaventura de Souza Santos, Silvia Rivera Cusicanqui, Sylvia Wynter, Glen Coulthard, Michalinos Zembylas, Ilan Kapoor, Sara Ahmed, Leela Gandhi, David Scott, M. Jacqui Alexander, and many others. A description of the house was first published in Stein and Andreotti (2017), and subsequently further developed in Stein, Hunt, Susa and Andreotti (2017), and Andreotti, Stein, Sutherland, Pashby, Susa, and Amsler (2018).
The house and the planet
The first frame of the zine presents a house built by modernity that is exceeding the limits of the planet. This house consists of:

a foundation of separability (separations between humans and the earth, and hierarchies of human value)

a carrying wall of universal reason based on Enlightenment humanism

a carrying wall of the modern nation states grounded on principles of liberal rights and justice

a (current) roof of global capital representing shareholder financial capitalism that has replaced roofs of industrial capitalism and socialism in different contexts

Hidden costs
The second frame draws attention to the externalized and invisibilized costs of building and maintaining the house through historical and on-going expropriation, land-theft, exploitation, destitution, dispossession and epistemicides, ecocides, and genocides (as these manifest contemporarily in e.g. extraction of blood minerals, arms trade, the denial of Indigenous peoples' treaty rights, violent policing both at and within the borders of the house, the poisoning of lands and waters through resource extraction, human trafficking, preventable famines and malnutrition, racialized incarceration, the testing of new drugs and treatments on vulnerable populations, interference in foreign elections, etc). One arrow points to the extraction of resources from the planet to the house, another shows the house dumping its sewage system and waste disposal on the planet.
Floors
The third frame complexifies the divisions within the house and problematizes desires related to the promise of social mobility for all. The top level of the house is presented as the "north-of-the north": those who have accumulated the most wealth and power in the house and who have secured and stabilized their position as legitimate producers of value and heirs of the house. In the second level, the "north-of-the-south" is invested in climbing the stairs of social mobility in an effort to reach the bar established by the "north-of the-north". The basement is the place of the "south-of-the-north" where people who have been exploited and marginalized within the house and who dis-identify with the aspirations of the second and top floors build their community. Outside of the house is the "south-of-the-south", those who live without the securities that the house affords, who subsidize the existence of the house, paying the highest price for its maintenance, and who fight to protect alternatives to life inside the house.

This frame also identifies two types of struggle: high-intensity struggle for those who have been constantly at the receiving end of the house's violences and fought for alternative ways of surviving at the basement or outside the house; and those engaged in low-intensity struggle for inclusion and opportunities within the house.
Structural Damage
The fourth frame shows the house cracking below a water-damaged roof collapsing under the weight of social, ecological, economic and political crises, including unsustainable growth, overconsumption, a surplus labour force, mental health crises, and cancelation of welfare and rights. The frame invites the questions: should we fix the house? Expand it? Build another house? Or create other types of shelter? In many conversations about this frame, it became important to mention the differences between different roofs, including industrial capitalism and different types of socialism. The shift from industrial capitalism to shareholder financial capitalism is extremely important in this frame as it changes the façade of modernity in relation to the role of the state.

Many critical scholars have pointed out that the modern nation state was designed to protect property (and property owners). They argue that human and civil rights have been granted only when there was interest convergence between the protection of people and the protection of capital, often within the context of the cold war (when capitalism needed to be seen as a better alternative to other - also imperial - socialist movements). Since these movements are no longer perceived to pose a threat to capitalism the façade is no longer necessary and convergences are much rarer. In the industrial form of capitalism, factory owners were publicly known, they were often directly involved in the management of production, they held a level of social and legal accountability for their workforce and they were perceived to be responsible for the impact of their activities in national contexts. With the demise of socialist alternatives and technological and structural changes in the globalized economy industrial capitalism shifted into shareholder financial capitalism. These changes were related to automation, information technology, liberalization of trade and capital flows, normalized debt, driven speculative investment, the expansion of desire-driven consumer culture and other factors. Unlike industrial capitalism, shareholder financial capitalism is anonymised (no accountability), distributed (ordinary people are also - often oblivious - shareholders as pension funds, for example, are dependent on financial returns) and solely focused on the pressure of maximization of shareholders' returns (i.e. short-term profit).
(Imprinted) Reasoning
The fifth frame, at the bottom, depicts how the house conditions our possibilities for experiencing the world by reducing being to knowing and life to meaning-making. This framework works like a grammar that defines what is intelligible, legitimate, viable and desirable within the house. The image of "Boxhead" a large square-headed being with a tiny (unfinished) outlined body has the referents that ascribe coherence to the project of modernity imprinted in its head: the modern dream of seamless progress, development and evolution carried out by human agency through the use of objective knowledge to control the environment and engineer a better society.

Boxhead 'thinks, therefore he is': his relationship with the world is mediated by his cognitive repertoire of meanings, rather than by his senses. Each referent enables a certain way of making meaning while bracketing all others, thereby buffering his sense of reality. Logocentrism compels him to believe that reality can be described in language in its totality. Universalism leads him to understand his interpretation of reality as objective and to project it as the only legitimate and valuable world view. Anthropocentric reasoning makes him see himself as separate from nature and having a mandate to manage, exploit and control it. Teleological thinking makes him want to plan for the engineering of a future that he can already imagine. Dialectical thinking traps him in a linear logic that is obsessed with consensus and resolutions and averse to paradoxes, complexities and contradictions. Allochronic and evolutionary thinking make him judge others according to a criteria where he is represented as being in the present of (linear) time, while others are in the past, and where he leads humanity in a single path of evolution (as the apex of civilization). This frame suggests that this drawing can be interrupted through sensual/embodied and aesthetic forces such as the erotic, the more-than-human, the divine and the hilarious.
Harnessed Fears
The sixth frame suggests that the house of modernity relates to existential fears created through the foundation of separability and its project of transcendence (of "nature"). Separability sustains the house: once we are no longer perceived as inter-woven with the land, each other and the cosmos, and the land becomes "resource" or "property", all other bodies (including human bodies) need to justify their existence by producing value in predetermined economies of worth. The project of transcending nature can take different forms, but is often characterized by an aversion to death, pain and loss, the overcoming of nature/flaws/material conditions/inter-dependence and control of a path that can secure the achievement of a specific higher ideal (which may or not relate to a notion of God) (e.g. a better life, "greatness", sovereignty, civilization, progress, development, evolution, etc., defined in multiple ways). The house modernity built constructs and harnesses certain fears to mobilize our motivation to invest in its reproduction and expansion. These fears become existential insecurities related to our vulnerability and lack of autonomy and self-insufficiency in the face of death, pain, "nature" and the universe at large. Our fears of scarcity, worthlessness, destitution, existential emptiness, loss, pain, death, impermanence, incompetence and insignificance are all mobilized in modern economies of value production where the intrinsic value of human and non-human life is denied.
Compensatory Desires
As we engage in the production of value for the validation and worth of our existence through intellectual, affective, and material economies established by modernity, our desires are allocated accordingly. For example, our harnessed fear of scarcity is turned into a "positive" desire for accumulation, our harnessed fear of impermanence becomes a desire for mastery, certainty, consensus, coherence and control. Our fear of incompetence becomes a desire for authority, and our fear of insignificance becomes a desire for external validation, community (on our terms) and universality/normalization.
Perceived Entitlements
Enacted within and dependent upon the continuity of the house, our compensatory desires become naturalized entitlements that mark and limit our ability to face and navigate the complexities of the social, economic, political and ecological crises that worsen as the house cracks. For example, the desire for accumulation is enacted as an entitlement to property, the desire for mastery is enacted as an entitlement to autonomy and stability, the desire for authority is enacted as an entitlement to the arbitration of justice, the desire for validation is enacted as an entitlement to admiration, innocence, virtue, execeptionalism, self-authorship (demanding that the world sees you as you see yourself) and leadership. These entitlements calibrate our hopes and fantasies sustaining colonial addictions and trapping human life-force within the collapsing house.
In Earth's CARE
The second social cartography is based on an analysis that posits that separability (the attempt to deny our entanglement with the earth, the cosmos and each other) is the root of the problems that we face in failing to imagine existence other than within the house of modernity. In this sense, the challenges we face are not related to a lack of information or strategy, but to a colonial habit of being. As a response, the cartography centers the invisibilized labor of the Earth in offering care, our responsibilities of reciprocity as part and parcel of its metabolism, and our accountability to future generations of human and non-human beings. A mycelium analogy is used with reference to role of funghi in decomposition, regeneration, communication and distribution of nutrients within ecological systems. This analogy is also used to convey that ecological and economic justice (mushrooms) are not viable without cognitive, affective and relational justice (healthy mycelium). We work with transformative and regenerative (rather than liberal/representational) notions of justice-to-come.

Ecological justice is defined as "acting from and towards metabolic health and wellbeing" and economic justice is defined as "cooperating towards systemic (metabolic) balance". Under the surface, the mycelium represents cognitive, affective and relational justice.

Cognitive justice refers to "nurturing encounters of knowledges and ignorances and recalibrating our relationship with language, meaning and knowledge (the known, the unknown and the unknowable)" - unlearning the imprinted legacy of the house of modernity on our reasoning.

Affective justice refers to "reconfiguring our neuro-biological connections (neuro-genesis) by digesting and composting our traumas, fears, denials and contradictions" - confronting our insecurities and re-allocating our desires away from modern-colonial investments and addictions.

Relational justice refers to "relating beyond knowledge, identity and understanding and enacting politics from a space of collective entanglement and radical tenderness" - embodying the existential conditions of responsibility before will, whereby generosity, humility and compassion are not enacted as intellectual choices but as a habitus that drives the emergence of new forms of relational politics.

The wind evokes the aspiration to move the setting of horizons of hope beyond the (end of the) house of modernity. The rain represents lessons learned from racial, gender, class, queer, dis/ability and many other struggles for recognition, access, redistribution and political representation within the house, as well as Indigenous, anti-colonial, and abolitionist movements that have gestured outside of the house.

The sun-dog (rainbow around the sun) represents many Indigenous prophecies of humanity coming-of-age: better days to come for "all our relations".

"EarthCARE" is an acronym for Ecological ("Earth"), Cognitive, Affective, Relational and Economic orientations of transformative and regenerative justice-to-come.
References:
Andreotti, V., Stein, S., Sutherland, A., Pashby, K., Susa, R., Amsler, S. (2018) Mobilising Different Conversations about Global Justice in Education: Toward Alternative Futures in Uncertain Times', Policy & Practice: A Development Edcation Review, 26(Spring), 9-41.

Stein, S., Hunt, D., Susa, R., Andreotti, V.( 2017): The Educational Challenge of Unraveling the Fantasies of Ontological Security, Diaspora, Indigenous, and Minority Education. iFirst: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/15595692.2017.1291501

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house mycelium mini-zine pdf (v. 3.1 updated 29.06.2018) house mycelium text pdf (updated 02.07.2018) Video on how to fold the mini-zine: From the house that modernity built to healthy mycelium This mini-zine is a pedagogical experiment that invites conversations about our collective existence in a planet facing unprecedented crises.

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“a timeless alternative personal dairy of art, fashion and self-expression.”

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THE ZINE SCENE IS BACK

Self-Publishing is Having a Moment and It's Redefining Youth and Self Expression

by Leah Sinclair

Self publishing is having a bit of revival these days, thanks to the zine. OOMK, Girls Get Busy, Dispora Drama, Cherry - these are just a few zines currently circulating in the recently resurged zine world, creating a safe place to explore and express opinions on todays youth. While zines were once a catalyst for the riot grrrl movements of the 90s, today they are tackling issues within our current climate, and redefining our youth once again.

Zines are self published books and magazines which emerged from the 1930s, originally as a way to display a love of science fiction. While they have their roots in the sci-fi world, their popularity surged during the 1960's, as underground publications like T he Underground Press Syndicate spearheaded this movement, and focused on outspoken political commentary which was otherwise ignored in mainstream media. The popularity of zines continued into the punk movement of the 70s with publications like John Holmstrom's Punk to Sniffin' Glue, to feminist punk zines of the 90s including Literal Bitch, Conscious Clit and many more. Today, the extensive history of zines continues to inspire a new generation, as millennials and generation X-ers are getting out their printers and best arts and crafts material, creating publications which are fighting for racial and gender equality, political freedom and so much more.

Zines have often been created out of frustration and a desire to fight against injustice and seems to be the main reason behind its resurgence today. OOMK is one of many zines born out of the underrepresentation of women of colour, and creates a safe place to explore muslim women away from Islamphobia and harmful representations which can be perpetrated by the media. Zine culture is deeply rooted in fighting against different forms of oppression, with others ranging from feminist zines like Girls Get Busy and Illuminati Girl Gang, to zines dedicated to political activism, LGBT and race. These self publications gain traction for their ability to effectively present their views which are at risk more than ever.

Beyond zines ability to bring out our inner activists, it allows us to reconnect with physical books and publications - something which is often forgotten in our digital age. Zines hawk back to a time before social media, and sees a return to printers, scrapbooking, collaging and creating things which are tangible and collectible. These elements aren't typically associated with our social media centric lives anymore, and maybe that's the draw. Its a form of escapism from the online world and has ironically become the escape that the internet was once considered to be. Zines like Andy Rementer's Love and Hats pride themselves on the detailed imagery and the design of their publications, putting extreme focus to every inch of their zine - from every illustration to the very feel of the each page. You simply can't get this sensation whilst scrolling through Google on your Macbook.

Zinesters from all over the world are celebrating this renaissance through a variety of events, festivals and fairs dedicated to the love of zines far and wide. While the zine may have once been a past time reserved for a select few, today they provide an opportunity to unite groups of people with an interest in specialist zines at festivals including Brooklyn Zine Fest, Grrrl Zine Fair, The Feminist Library Fest, and DIY cultures. These festivals have become a massive success as zine culture continues to flourish, yet they still retain an air of exclusivity which is appealing to zine readers. In an era where everything is mass marketed, zines aren't meant for mass publishing, mass consumption or distribution. They are special, unique and one of a kind - just like its readers.

While the resurrection of the zine can be credited to many things - an escape from the internet, to commentary on social issues affecting our youth - the key to it's success is that it remained a place for pure creativity. The purpose of the zine was never to make profit, but a celebration of ones passion for something or someone. Its a place where creativity can be fulfilled and appreciated by those who love it, away from the constant adverts you come across whilst flipping through pages of glossy magazines, or tirelessly making your way through hundreds of comments on online websites. Zines capture a cultural moment in time, and allows us to explore it in depth and all its glory. A form of self publishing which changed the youth of yesterday, and is reshaping the youth of today.

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Self-Publishing is Having a Moment and It's Redefining Youth and Self Expression by Leah Sinclair Self publishing is having a bit of revival these days, thanks to the zine. OOMK, Girls Get Busy, Dispora Drama, Cherry - these are just a few zines currently circulating in the recently resurged zine world, creating a safe place to explore and express opinions on todays youth.

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The Halluci Nation's Official Music Videos

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This playlist is dedicated to The Halluci Nation's collection of official music videos.

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Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube.

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What could be more hostile to flaneuring than a highway? And yet we have walked. Together with four curating editors and contributors of many disciplines we tried to grasp this ring road marking the city limits of Paris, layer by layer - and we found a road where much is at stake and a road of many voices.

We release this issue on the Boulevard Périphérique's 50th anniversary. The ring road is a boomer. It's a bit passé, but it doesn't care because it has it all; it's too big to fail. It thinks it's essential and that they won't find anything to replace it. But the ring road is on its last pillars, slowly fading out, replaced by the sounds of parties and shouts of protests.

This street not only takes us to the border of the inner city of Paris and to the question of what the relation of its centralist power with its neighbouring cities is, but to a hidden meaning of the word boulevard beyond its bourgeois glamour: a frontier, a device of control and fortification. Given the huge impact Parisian city planning and storytelling had on other cities, it's a street that leads us to what is at stake locally while also highlighting urgencies transcending this road:

From the effects of the fast gentrification of the Grand Paris plan and the upcoming Olympic Games, to the violent colonial history that remains present in public spaces, from the museal imagery often associated with Paris, to the concrete realities of its fringes, from the pollution and noise to the potential of listening from below, from the hidden geometry of centralist power to the imagination of archipelagic thinking.

A lot is at stake. And it's that dynamic, that past, these futures, that you're about to find in this issue.

(PHOTO) ISSUE 06:
TREZE DE MAIO, SÃO PAULO, FELIPE RUSSO

As an independent project finding a way to create meaningful work through in-depth and long-term collaborations while remaining financially sustainable has always been a challenging goal for Flaneur. Now, with the pandemic having considerably slowed down our activities and sales and with increasing production costs, we find ourselves in need of extra support to help finance our magazine production and the free public events we regularly organise (workshops, festivals, performances, and more).

Your donations will go directly into funding contributors' fees, translation, research, paper costs, event costs and more.

(PHOTO) ISSUE 08:
KANGDING ROAD / WANDA ROAD, TAIPEI. MANBO KEY

What Other People Said.

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What could be more hostile to flaneuring than a highway? And yet we have walked. Together with four curating editors and contributors of many disciplines we tried to grasp this ring road marking the city limits of Paris, layer by layer - and we found a road where much is at stake and a road of many voices.