One of this planter’s weathered sides is an old shop deck from Feral Skate Shop (circa 2005). The one opposite was made by a local company called Boulevard Skateboards. The former residents were left outside and didn’t survive last year’s coldest temperatures, so these drought resistant fatties will overwinter indoors.
Mr.’s been around the way, and adopted us about a year ago. The sage’s influence spans blocks, and calls the planter above (once occupied by catnip) home base.
It took a week for Mo and Jo, grayscale neighbors from across the street, to discover this intoxicating find. For the last couple days, on my way to school in the morning, I noticed that the plant on the left looks like they took turns rolling in it all night.
These are the only ghost plant flowers I’ve ever seen. The plant sits next to a sunny window in the lobby/reception room of the Elqui Domos, in Elqui Valley, Chile.
This planter brings to mind a quote I scribbled in a journal years ago:
The belief that violence is a reasonable and often necessary route to achieving our aims goes unquestioned in most societies. Violence is thought to be the nature of things. It’s what works. It seems inevitable-the last and often, the first resort in conflicts. This Myth of Redemptive Violence is the real myth of the modern world. It, and not Judaism or Christianity or Islam, is the dominant religion in our society.
by Walter Wink
The Myth of Redemptive Violence is a Babylonian creation story. The “Enuma Elish” (circa 1250 BCE), is a story about two parent gods who give birth to all other gods. The children kill the father because they discover their parents’ plans to kill them all because they make too much noise. Enraged, the battle ensues between the gods and their mother. The youngest of the gods winds-up killing her.
One July, I bought this plant from a woman at a flea market outside of town my students call “La Pulga.” The specter floated above the stoop in a hanging basket for about a year. Once I swung the door too wide, and knocked it seven feet to the ground. After a considerable soil hemorrhage left a small hollow under the plant, I noticed an illusive wren flitting back and forth with twigs and other oddments. The plant thrived while baby birds hatched beneath.
I met a curious mantis climbing the funbox at a local skate spot after a nose manual, then found this little guy on the porch when I got home.
Buenos dias.
Pedagogy of the Plants 