Field journal curation zone—upload images of your favorite journal pages, or transcripts of your favorite field writing.
100s postcards from the field:
1 – Tarp tent idea. Get 100 small tarps, cord, and stakes. Put up 100 small tarp shelters around Green Lake. Leave it at that and see what is done with them. Are they used for shelter by homeless people, taken down by the authorities, or something else. Leave some notes staked down inside. “Why are you afraid of shelters?”, “Where else should we go?”, “We are symptoms, not an illness”, “This is what happens when the government does not provide for the people”, “we are not alone”, “we have a right to the city”, “we do not want to be here”
2 – Rules of the road at Green Lake. Wheels stay to the outside of the line. Strollers do not count as wheels. Wheels may only travel counter clockwise. Foot-mobile users are allowed to walk in both directions, but are encouraged to move around the lake in a counter clockwise direction. DO NOT CROSS THE LINE. That is the wrong way to use the shoreline. Wheelchair users must stick to the inside of the line unless they are “actively race training”. This park is far from natural, it has been altered and controlled and cleaned up. Order is what keeps it open.
3 – No lights, dark Green Lake Park at night. I open my eyes. I’m treading water in darkness. I see only faint lights on the distance, I have no idea where the shoreline is. I know I am in Green Lake. I know the shoreline can only be a half mile away at most. Yet without light, it seems to not even exist. My eyes adjust to the stars and the moon, uncovered on this warm May night. What do the fish see at night? As little as I do now? Do they enjoy the stars? I bathe in the darkness.
4 – Are there any unaugment lakes in Seattle? Have any been spared, left in stasis? Lake Washington, drained and connected to the Sound. Green Lake, cut off from Ravenna Creek, drained, chemically, biologically, and physically altered. Lake Union used to be a proper lake, now it is a strange in-between zone for boats and ships and rowers. Bitter Lake and Haller Lake may be the exceptions, but even they are now surrounded, fortified by a ring of houses. Did the landscape feel suffocated under the 3000 foot glacier? How does the land feel now? Who will leave the longer lasting mark?