15 November

Ecstatic Experience. Radioactive Jewels of the Craftsmen

by Jon Katz
Radioactive Jewels of Craft

 

Some of the most wonderful moments on the farm occur when I wander around the barns, open doors, look at shelves, peer in corners at the beautiful light splays through the windows. Here, you see the  radioactive jewels of the Craftsmen, ghosts now, too inefficient for the corporate economy, everything they made, the smallest things, fuses, doorknobs and handles, inkwells and pans, bookcases and stools, chicken coops and slate roofs. I love photographing the works of the Craftsmen,  people who took pride in their work and individuality and were fulfilled in their lives. I am so grateful that the radioactive jewels of their work and their lives remain here, for me to see and photograph.

15 November

Identity: “The Dog Guy.” Who We Are

by Jon Katz
Identify

 

I’ve often said we are the stories we tell, and I think that is very true of me. I was fascinated, touched and challenged by the many responses to the proposed first draft  redesign of bedlamfarm.com. People liked it, overwhelmingly and enthusiastically, which is nice.  There were some good and thoughtful ideas about it. Some were poignant, surprising to me. A few people said they were concerned because, as one put it, I was the “dog guy” and the redesign suggested there was more to me and the site than just dogs. A number of people said they would miss the border collie graphic – Izzy – which has been the symbol of the website from the beginning. The blog is, of course, a reflection of me and of my identity, so it is natural people would sense changes in that.

Identity is important to me. I’ve lost my own sense of identity many times, sometimes at my hands, sometimes at the hands of others. I have learned to take my identity seriously, and I have also learned that I learned to build and keep my identity through the stories I tell and the photos I take. They are my soul,my ego, my truest expression of self.

Dogs are the heart of the enterprise for me, because they interest me the most, I love observing them, training them, writing about them and learning what they tell us about our culture, society and the people who love them so much. Still, is true that my writing encompasses much more than that. I write about life, rural life, fear, donkeys, cats, chickens, sheep,  emotion, loss, spirituality, self-determination, love, health and a lot of other things. That has evolved for many years – I wrote about many things before dogs – and been, I think, a significant reason for the explosive growth of the blog. I have never written as a dog lover, rescuer, or worshipper, as there are plenty of those, but as a writer interested in dogs as a mirror of our lives, as an observer of the impact animals have on our world.

At almost every reading, someone asks me a curious question about dogs or veterinary issues. How do you housebreak a dog? How do you get dogs to get along with one another? How do you tell a well-bred dog? At Sunday Adirondack Monday, a man surprised me by asking what he could do about the ticks that are on his dogs. I am always taken aback by this. I am not a trainer, and not a vet, and writers are usually not asked about ticks and housebreaking. I am always asked if people can bring dogs to my readings, and some people have, even though  people would never think of bringing animals to most book readings.

People, understandably, bring their own passions and interests and sometimes have trouble separating their identity from mine. They make assumption about me, as I perhaps make assumptions about them. Never a good thing to do.

Identity is never settled and is always ours to define. It has to be nourished, protected and affirmed continuously. People are always ready, often unconsciously to take it away. So some people looking at the redesign sensed that my identity is not just as a “dog guy,” whatever that really is, but as something more. That is a good thing. They are right. The “Izzy” logo, good as it is, cute as it is, doesn’t work for who I am now, and what the blog represents now. The site isn’t just about adorable dogs, although it is sometimes about that. It is time to move forward – perhaps that is at the core of who I am.

I hope I write a dozen more books about dogs. I could.  But in our culture, websites and blogs are a reflection of us, and of our stories, and I guess the redesign does show that we are always evolving, and good for us. Which makes me love the new bedlamfarm.com even more. And thanks for all the great responses, thoughts, ideas and suggestions.

15 November

The Last Thanksgiving. A Friend’s Story

by Jon Katz
A friend's tale

 

I was glad for my hospice experience today.  I have a good friend who is dying, and  who has grown weaker and more fatigued since I last saw him. On the book tour, I couldn’t visit him as much as I might have wished, but now I can see him more frequently, and many of the memories Izzy and I shared those few years are coming back to me.

It was good to see him.  He was sitting up on the sofa in his living room, and he looked frailer and paler than I can remember seeing him, but his eyes were bright and missing nothing. He is in hospice care now, and was glad to see me too. We held hands, we hugged, we talked. My friend is very articulate, very self-aware. He has been struggling with a chronic illness for several years and he believes there are only a few weeks, months at most, left. He has lived a full and very active and self-fulfilled life, and I have long admired him.

He is on medication for pain, and for anxiety. Sitting with him this afternoon, we talked about Thanksgiving, his last Thanksgiving, he said, and we each spoke of how we wished to share the holiday. My editor pointed out to me today that my next book, “Dancing Dogs,” a short story collection, is funny, offbeat, different, and this reminded me of how much grieving has been in my mind the last few years, from my hospice travels with Izzy “Izzy & Lenore,” to “Going Home: Finding Peace When Pets Die.” It will be nice to go on a book tour without talk of grieving and loss.

But grieving and loss will be on my mind the next few weeks, and I was recalling my hospice experience, and the rules I learned there.

– Don’t bring your stuff in there.

– Don’t make the sadness and loss your own. It is not about you.

– Listen Actively. Go where he is, not where you think he should be.

– Don’t try and cheer him up. Or suggest he will be better.  Or deny his reality, whatever it is.

– See what you can do to be helpful. Listen, listen, listen.

I was reminded today of how comfortable I am in the presence of people on the edge of life. I don’t know why, I can’t imagine why. Perhaps it is because people at this point in life, like my friend, have dropped pretense, posturing and equivocation. They are very real, very honest. With his permission, and I suppose with yours, I’d like to write a bit about this experience as it unfolds.

It is sad, but not only sad. We talked, we laughed, we connected. I left feeling good, because he was so glad to see me.  I started to feel sorry for myself, and stopped that. It is not, in fact, about me, and I will not go there.  It is for him to be sad or happy, not me. I am wondering if he might like the new Amazon Fire, or the new Barnes & Noble Nook, as he can’t read and might enjoy audio books or videos. I am eager to go back.  We are in the final stages, it seems, and he is aware of that, and open about it. This, he said, will be his last Thanksgiving, and he wishes to think long and hard about how he will spend it. He said he hopes I drop by. I will.

And I am thinking about my Thanksgiving, and how I can possibly give appropriate thanks to Maria, my daughter, the farm, the animals, my writing and photography, to the people who follow both. I am thinking of it as my First Thanksgiving in many ways, the first one in which we are really free to shape our own day. And our vows to answer the call to life, however long it lasts.

15 November

Re-thinkingbedlamfarm.com, cont.

by Jon Katz
rethinkingbedlamfarm.com

 

I like change, although it sometimes makes me nervous. Change is a measure, I think, of how we can grow and evolve. For me, to never change is the first death, the plague of hardening arteries and shrinking vision. To change for the sake of change is just another kind of chaos. I love the responses to the proposed changes Mannix Marketing is designing for this blog. People care deeply about the website, and about the way it is used, and I appreciate that more than I can say.

In the first draft, the proposal called for shrinking the main Farm Journal photos. Nobody liked that, including me, so that’s already gone. I felt the graphic behind the central structure is too large and confusing, and that is being worked on. I actually love Steve Job’s idea of design – bold, simple, minimalist. I love the fact that people coming to the site can come to one page for everything – photos, blog, book information, Maria’s site, Blogs I love, Facebook, and videos. People can tap into these other elements without leaving the Farm Journal page.

I didn’t like the cursive “All Things Jon Katz” — too cute for me, and it’s gone. The main Journal photo will be enlarged in the design, much as it is now on this page, perhaps even a bit larger. I enjoy the collaboration with my readers –  we are monitoring your comments in e-mail and on Facebook and paying close attention. Of course, there are a number of threats – if you change the site, I will leave it!. I tell those people to await their refund check. But the blog is a collaboration, of course, up to a point (I am still paying for it and responsible for it) and it is is very useful to hear what you all think. Thanks. Most of you seem to love the new ideas.

I am very excited about the changes, and grateful as always to Mannix Marketing, the creators and architects of my blog since it’s inception. We have grown up together, and if there is every a book done on my life, Chris Archibee of Mannix could write it. He’s gotten some amazing late night calls.

I’ve changed in the last few years – the photography, video, Facebook and Twitter. The site needs to reflect that, and to be easier to access and navigate. I am also cranked about the “Blogs I Love” page. The first one will be Mary Muncil’s rapidly growing White Feather Farm blog, the second Cold Antler Farm by the writer Jenna Woiginrich. More to come. Non-commercial blogs that reflect individuality, self-determination and that are uplifting to me and hopefully to others. These blogs will not always or even often reflect my own point-of-view, but are powerful and valuable and relevant in their own right. I have my point-of-view, others are very welcome. I am not looking for writers or blogs who agree with me. What’s the point? But they have to be affirming, not destructive or fear-mongering. I believe it’s time we made our own media, and not fall prey to the hysteria, anger and fear that is theirs. So we’re starting.

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