Steven Wong

One set of rules for themselves and another for everyone else

Spring comes undeterred

Got this adorable sketch of me in the mail. Was surprised and delighted!

Impossible to get work done or concentrate because all the news headlines rumble like bombs in my head 💣💥🤯

black humus. I look into that bucket with fascination because I am a farmer of sorts and an artist of sorts, and I recognize there an artistry and a farming far superior to mine, or to that of any human.”

insects have flown into the bucket and died and decayed; bird have scratched in it and left their droppings or perhaps a feather or two. This slow work of growth and death, gravity and decay, which is the chief work of the world, has by now produced in the bottom of the bucket several inches of

Rain and snow have fallen into it, and the fallen leaves have held the moisture and so have rotted. Nuts have fallen into it, or been carried into it by squirrels; mice and squirrels have eaten the meat of the nuts and left the shells; they and other animals have left their droppings;

For what is going on in that bucket is the most momentous thing I know, the greatest miracle that I have ever heard of: it is making earth. The old bucket has hung there through many autumns, and the leaves have fallen around it and some have fallen into it.

This quote from Wendell Berry helps me understand what I’m doing with our new intergenerational family.

“A battered galvanized bucket is hanging on a fence post near the head of the hollow, and I never go by it without stopping to look inside.

My mosses have little moss flowers.

But the thing worth doing well done
has a shape that satisfies, clean and evident.
Greek amphoras for wine or oil,
Hopi vases that held corn, are put in museums
but you know they were made to be used.
The pitcher cries for water to carry
and a person for work that is real.

The work of the world is common as mud.
Botched, it smears the hands, crumbles to dust.

I want to be with people who submerge
in the task, who go into the fields to harvest
and work in a row and pass the bags along,
who are not parlor generals and field deserters
but move in a common rhythm
when the food must come in or the fire be put out.

I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart,
who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience,
who strain in the mud and the muck to move things forward,
who do what has to be done, again and again.

To be of use

By Marge Piercy
The people I love the best
jump into work head first
without dallying in the shallows
and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight.
They seem to become natives of that element,
the black sleek heads of seals
bouncing like half-submerged balls.

I’m just getting used to it being Winter and these early signs of Spring show up.

Now that’d be a real Gulf of America

I have no idea about that. I think Bluesky is supposed to be releasing an Instagram competitor soon, so I’ll wait to see how that is. But for now here you go

Happy Lunar New Year! Wishing you health and prosperity.

News alert: Good Morning America Troops arrive at the Southern border, battle for the Super Bowl and panda-monium at the National Zoo. Watch GMA on ABC.

This is probably what’s going to drive me insane in the weeks and months ahead.

Trump’s fascism is going to be presented alongside sports news and wordplay about new animals at the zoo, like all of this is normal.

@gr4titude.bsky.social Hello there!

When your pet project gets reassigned to someone else.

It was never about America First

I'm seeing new Honda Prologues all over San Francisco this money. Everyone must be getting their deliveries. They are replacing Model Ys.

www.motortrend.com/reviews/2024...

Ursula K. LeGuin on technology

She looks so pissed off