My dream has always been to live close to the land. My goal is simpler, sustainable, more self-reliant living. In 2009 my husband and I bought a neglected 1920s-built bungalow on 5 acres, which we've gradually built into our homestead.
We had our coldest day of winter, so far, yesterday and today was only a little warmer. So this video caught my attention and got me thinking. It discusses the medieval three layer system of dressing in linen and wool to keep warm.
History is tough because none of us lived through what's being discussed. So basically, we're dealing with an interpretation of the people and events. I used youtube a lot last year for research on my ancestral cuisine research. I found it useful to look at a variety of videos on a particular time period or cultural group, rather than just one popular video. I tried to find common denominators in the videos to build a framework I felt was decently accurate. Points of view evolve with social changes, so that helped sift out modern interpretations that didn't seem to fit.
I just tried this and it truly does make a difference! We've been able to replace all our old windows with energy efficient upgrades, except one - the window in the 2nd bathroom. It's a cold room in winter, especially the floor. I used 3/16" thick foamboard from the school supplies department, cut two to fit the window and glued them together.
As soon as I fitted it into the window frame, I could feel immediately that the air below the window wasn't as cold. Definitely recommended!
There are so many factors in the size things grow. Some varieties are developed for size and soil nutrition and weather play a part. I cook for a family of two, so I'm another one who looks for the smaller size of many things. On the other hand, when I'm canning, large is good. Anything we don't eat goes to the critters or the compost. So I don't feel that anything goes to waste.
This experiment was prompted by a comment on my fiber blog, where I noted that the stripes I got from my photos were random until I made copies and put them together for a larger design. That larger design always had a pattern. Someone then challenged me to see if I could repeat those stripes in a random way.
Here's the image I started with, another sunrise.
Using the method I did for the other experiments, here are the stripes I ended up with
A set of random stripes from the original photo.
Then I made copies of the image in my photo editor, and tried to arrange them in a random way. Try as I might, everything I made had a pattern. I gave up. But after thinking about it for a while, I gave it another try and finally came up with this
I have to say, it was a lot of work to get a larger set of random stripes! But it was an interesting experiment and got me to thinking about how I'm envisioning permaculture weaving and what it means to take inspiration from nature. I don't have it all figured out yet, but I think it's going to be an interesting journey.
When we speak of permaculture design, we're usually looking at designing acreage, a front yard, or a garden. So we look at visible patterns to imitate in our design. When I began to think about permaculture weaving, I wasn't sure what that would look like, so I've been trying to figure that out. I can say it means using natural fibers and colors, but what does it mean in terms of designing a weaving draft? I'm not sure, but as I explore, these are the kinds of questions that pop up.
In another forum, I'm doing a study in stripes - Inspiration from Nature: Stripes. I'm applying a human method to get color stripes from photos. The result is a set of random stripes. But when I duplicate them to make a larger design, a pattern always emerges.
Perhaps "random" is what we see when we focus on details instead of the big picture.
Les, I've been thinking about this. The pattern may be the seasonal rhythm, i.e. the seasonal cycle. Deciduous trees, for example display a pattern of growth and dormancy, with new leaves and later falling dead leaves making a seasonal pattern.
That's my first thoughts trying to make sense of what I see and how it answers my question.
Anne Miller wrote:Wouldn't my examples be non-pattern? If not, what would they be called?
Anne Miller wrote:All my trees are random.
All of my grass is random.
All the rocks and cactus are randomly place here and there.
Anne, I have to say I think they are. So tree branches are said to be a branching pattern, but there is no pattern to where the trees grow, how grass grows, or where rocks and cactus appear.
I've been thinking about this and here's an example I've come up with.
I see no pattern in these fallen leaves, either in how they fell or where, nor in their colors other than they are all shades of brown. They fell from the trees randomly and lie on the ground randomly.
Pattern definitely exists in nature, and that's what we imitate and use in permaculture design. For design purposes, I suppose we tend to ignore the rest.
My dream has always been to live close to the land. My goal is simpler, sustainable, more self-reliant living. In 2009 my husband and I bought a neglected 1920s-built bungalow on 5 acres, which we've gradually built into our homestead.
