Spin Cycles
I put the CD in. I haven't played one for months, but recently remembered the small stash of them that I keep in the center console of my car. Satellite radio playlists usually suffice, but the other day I wanted to listen to my music, loud and uninterrupted. Approaches to addressing climate change fall into two categories: trying to avoid the crash (i.e. mitigation), and adjusting to the impact that, no matter what we do, is going to happen (adaptation). Before there were standardized protocols for such things, a friend of mine oversaw the design and construction of one of the most progressively environmentally friendly buildings of its time. They had to figure out what that meant. He explained to me how the fundamental principle they landed on was "no ugliness," with that term being broadly and creatively interpreted to cover much more than just appearance. Embracing beauty, in whatever form, won't prevent the unraveling that has begun, but it fortifies my resilience. So far, I've been able to stay committed to my work, perhaps because there is still a distance between what's happening "out there" and my immediate realm. The shadow hasn't stretched that far yet. (Several much more innocuous work issues have recently ticked me off, so I know I can still be triggered.) As a Designer, I remain committed to pursuing "no ugliness," as well as to creative interventions. Having worked on complicated and deeply ingrained issues for decades now, I'm familiar with being overwhelmed. Inside the player, the CD spins. I turn up the volume so the music saturates my car. Hold tight. Sharp turns ahead. Brace for impact.
