Fourteen people in a happy home: the joys of community living.

I love my house! Newly renamed Pandemonium Fortress, or the Panda Fort, the once-upon-a time Pink House has been transformed from a party punk house to a peaceful place for travelers, a home for those who would otherwise be homeless, a practice space for communal living, a house where it is perfectly acceptable to skin roadkill on the front porch. I feel sometimes like I'm not living in the city at all when I'm home; when I see Rowan in the backyard making a homemade bow, or Lyra or Audi digging up the yard to make a garden, when I see Mandrake on the front porch meditating or making up poetry off the top of his head, or Brit in the kitchen, cooking up some gourmet breakfast, I feel as though I live in some magical land of the future, where love, community and supporting each other are the most important things, and things like making money and getting a career are at the bottom of a person's list of priorities.

Yesterday was a perfect example of what community living can be like. Audi and I spent a good bit of the day digging up quack-grass to make garden plots; I sang gospel songs and dug my bare toes into the cold, wet dirt; I felt connected to the earth, to Portland, to that specific plot and to all my housemates. Audi sang as well; we worked side by side, moving the dirt shovelful by shovelful. Rowan and Locke waved as they left on bikes to purchase baby chicks (we are going to have backyard chickens!) Twenty minutes or so later, Rowan and Locke where back; in Rowan's bike trailer was a box that cheeped! The baby chicks where oohed and cooed over by everyone, while we collaborated to build them a temporary box to live in until the backyard coop and chicken run is built. Brit and Mandrake meanwhile cleaned and organized the kitchen, while Mandrake shared his concerns about going back to NYC which is where he is from.

We currently have fourteen people living or staying in our house; and I have to say, with only one bathroom and four bedrooms, it is beginning to feel a bit crowded. But there is an overwhelming feeling of love and protection and community there that I absolutely love. Food is almost all communal; huge meals are cooked for each other, we spend evenings reading to each other and playing cards. If you are feeling sad or depressed or just need someone to process things with, someone with a listening ear is always around. Hugs and snuggles are widely available. Money is not; but doesn't seem as necessary when the needs for love are being met. And it is so exciting to live with other people who love gardening, who save greywater for reuse, who tan hides and eat dandelion greens and roadkill. Yesterday Rowan and I where having a conversation about whether or not humans are the most invasive species on the planet. I was saying we where, he was saying we aren't. He said "Possum (my name in Portland to most folks is Possum,) look, if you say that, then you are implying that humans have to live destructively, and I, for one, refuse to live that way, and I encourage those around me not to chose to live destructively." He has a point. We, as animals with brains, get the luxury of thinking objectively about how we live, and we can choose to live in ways that are much less destructive then the current "norm." Rowan isn't usually so hopeful; his hope elated me, and so I sang as I turned hope into our soil.

Love ya,
Carrot