In Response - On Country Learning (Sheehan, Moran, Harrison

 A lot of this article feels emotionally close to the world of yoga that I have inhabited since the early 90s. It speaks to my time studying at Kripalu, the Ghosh College in Kolkata, India and in the Sivananda Ashram in Los Angeles. I try to connect my yoga life with my design life but they are not always complementary.

I think it's hard for us to know the effect of colonization on design because it is the water that we fish swim in. We unconsciously use so much language that we are not aware of. When I was living in Munich in my twenties, a German friend of mine described the day as gas oven hot. Me having a Jewish father hearing that from a German was triggering and unacceptable. But he had never considered what that phrase might imply. What seemed horrifying to me was normal for him. I think that happens all the time in big and small ways.

When talking about how to decolonize design, the authors speak of designing by "…building relationships with knowledge outside the human mind." For me, my point of connection to these words means experiential knowledge. Listening from the heart. Listening from the stomach. Understanding that the mind is just one brain center.

When I was working on sets in Hollywood, I used to have to do an incredible amount of designing fast. I couldn't always do the research I wanted to because the deadlines came up so fast and often the scripts changed at the last minute, and I was no longer prepared for the new things I needed to design. When I was faced with these situations, I would trust my intuition on how to design and decorate the set. I relied on instinct and that I had read and embodied the script enough to make quick decisions. I always believed this place of deep intuition was a very creative, honest, and authentic place to design from.

The authors ask us to learn through connections and the ways things connect. I am not sure I have done that, but it is something I can strive for. Maybe like in the Eames and Eames film Powers of Ten I can practice zooming way out and zooming way in when designing. I can ask myself where and how can I be more connected to other people, to place, to heart, to spirit, to the ancestors. That is something I would like to do.

The authors suggest that we should listen to people with all kinds of experiences.  I learned about active listening when studying yoga therapy at Kripalu. In this modality, listening is more important than speaking. This is a strategy as a designer I have used often when working with directors in film, television, and commercials. I really try to listen beyond words to understand how to make the environment that the director wants. Because words are only one form of communication (and often aren't reliable), I try to understand tone of voice, gestures, and emotions so I can get the set right. I don't always succeed. Sometimes I forget. But sometimes I get it right and even exceed expectations.

Years ago I did a rodeo movie called, "Cowboy Up." Being an African-American woman from Philadelphia I didn't understand much about white rodeo life in Central California. I spent a lot of time with the local bull riders where we were filming in Nipomo so I could make authentic sets. I walked around with them, hung out with them their bunk houses. I fed the animals with them; I even sat on a bull. Once that time was spent I began to understand more but also understood I didn’t know enough and never would. So I asked them to help me, I said, "I'm just a black girl from Philly, can you help me tell your story accurately?" And they did help me. Explaining what items would be placed where in the rodeo. Bringing keep sakes from their families houses to make the sets more authentic. We co-created and I am proud of the work.

But my life in film has been a life that has contributed tremendous waste. Buying thousands if not millions of dollars of things that have very limited use. When we recycled, when we donated, it was just performative.

The authors speak of a definition of design: "Design is how all living beings co-operate to co-create." A few years back I heard a lecture on Deep Ecology. This idea really resonated with me. "Deep ecology is an environmental philosophy that promotes the inherent worth of all living beings regardless of their instrumental utility to human needs and argues that modern human societies should be restructured in accordance with such ideas." I think this means a design that does no harm in its materials, the people who make it,  the people who use it, and all beings everywhere.  It's like the meta meditation we use a lot in yoga therapy that ends:

"May all beings be happy."

"May all beings be peaceful."

"May all beings be safe."

"May all beings live with ease." 

When I was at Arrowmont School of Craft this summer I heard a lecture by Zeke Leonard who has a motto of only using things that are around to design with. He has made a practice of making banjos and guitars out of old pianos. He proclaimed, “Make stuff out of things not things out of stuff.”

My aunt Frances and my grandmother were readers of dreams, and a lot of my design ideas come in dreams or meditation. I think this is the ancestral knowledge (I don't consider myself indigenous) that has been passed down. The idea that problems can be solved in dreams is something that everyone on my mom's side of the family believes.

The author speaks of places where memorable steps can be made. In wine this is a term called terroir, meaning the taste of the place where the wine is grown, the soil, the climate, the topography.... These factors all give it a specificity. I think objects that lack a specificity that are not sited fall short. The opposite of the terroir idea  seems to be when the authors speak of design that disregards context.

I had the opportunity to study at Stitch Buffalo this summer. An organization that provides refugee women with a place to do their traditional crafts and/or learn other techniques if they wish, and/or sell their work. The store at Stitch Buffalo is a marvel. Everything there is handmade by local refugee people (mainly women) who work in the space. Anything you buy will make a profound difference in someone's life. I met many of the women and they were incredibly proud to show me their work. I think this is an example of design that exemplifies the message of the article.

The art and design I want to do (and maybe already do a little bit now) is centered on giving voice to the voiceless, telling the stories of people and places that have been forgotten or left unexplored, and reinterpreting religious texts, myths, and folktales through a modern lens. I want to explore the realms of spirituality and identity, as well as cultural intersections. History, memory, light, wind, climate, temperature, the moon, and stars. I want to practice the yogic principles in design, make a design of ahimsa (non harming).  It's like the mantra I end with when I teach yoga; Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu - "May all beings everywhere know love and peace, and may the thoughts, words, and actions of my own life contribute to that love and peace for all"