Photos by Sunya and McCune
Architecture shapes culture, so a guiding principle of Cambia is, if we can make it beautiful, we do. Architecture is unique as an art form because it integrates function with form. This includes landscaping and outdoor play spaces.
Stepping stones have multiple functions; for example, they can protect clover, especially in the winter. The form also affects our local culture: when you walk on stepping stones, you are called to a child-like stance.
You can walk with your hands hanging down by your sides, and what tends to happen is that your arms raise up to maintain your balance. The stepping stones can draw you into being playful and childlike. As your hands go up, you are more likely to skip. As you start to skip, you are more likely to smile.
Cambia also boasts a trampoline. The trampoline draws kids from the surrounding communes. Cambia recently replaced our broken one, in an assembly effort which was guided by a gaggle of giggly kids.
The German modern architect Mies van der Rohe is famous for two sayings, both of which are applicable. “Less is more“ is the argument for minimalist architecture to achieve simplicity, using white elements, cold lighting, large space with minimum objects and furniture
At Cambia, there is a focus on details. Door knobs from twisted branches, floors of pebbles and clay, salvaged redwood around the hot tub and hyacinth pool. It is these and dozens of other tiny aspects that makes this stepping stone commune so precious.
Handcrafted means focusing on details: doorknobs from twisted branches, floors of pebbles and clay, tiny signposts, salvaged redwood around the hot tub and hyacinth pool. It is these and dozens of other tiny aspects that makes this stepping stone commune so precious.
By Telos of Compersia
December is a month with a litany of holidays. Some celebrate Hanukkah, others Christmas, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice, another holiday, or no holiday at all. Personally, I’m partial to Winter Solstice as a marker of the soon-to-return sunshine, and we had quite the Christmas feast here at Compersia, but on December 17th we also celebrated Saturnalia, as one of our members, Jenny, has done with her kids for several years.
Saturnalia is an ancient Roman festival in celebration of Saturn, the agricultural god of generation, dissolution, wealth, renewal, and liberation. The festival would start at the Temple of Saturn, with a pig sacrificed in Saturn’s honor, and the undoing of the woolen bonds normally tied around the feet of Saturn’s statue, signaling his liberation. Saturnalia would last through December 23rd, featuring public banquets, the exchange of candles and terracotta figurines as gifts, and (most importantly) an upheaval of social conventions.
Romans would ditch their togas in favor of colorful dinner clothing that was normally considered in poor taste for daytime wear. Masters and slaves alike would wear the the mark of a freed slave, a conical felt cap called a pileus. Slaves said and did what they wanted, including openly disrespecting their own masters without threat of punishment. Gambling, normally frowned upon, would happen openly, and even slaves would take part.
Even more so than a relaxation of social conventions, Saturnalia was their reversal. Drunkenness was the rule, rather than the exception. Slaves would have a grand banquet at their master’s table, sometimes waited on by the masters themselves. Each household would choose a mock king from their lowest ranks, the Saturnalicius princeps, also called the “lord of misrule.” This lowly king would insult guests, give absurd orders (such as to dance naked- always fun), and cause other mischief.
At Compersia, the children were our Saturnalicius princeps. For one day, they were given the chance to rule, to decide what was important (or fun) to do, and to have adults making them cookies all day (we ate some too), all without pressure to clean up their mess. The catch is that for big decisions, the children had to use consensus, since that’s what the adults of Compersia have assented to. In the spirit of true role reversal, some of the adults whined about the children’s rule. “But why do we have to make paper snowflakes right now?” “I don’t want macaroni and cheese for dinner!”
Ultimately, Saturnalia was joyous, whimsical, and did not result in our house getting burnt down. The costumes were on point, our tree ended up beautifully decorated, and the cookies were abundant. It turns out that the kids here are reasonably responsible and know how to have a good time!
Beyond the fun of celebrating Saturnalia in our own home, I think it’s a holiday that can hold wider inspiration for those who dream of social change. What if we aspired to bring the social upheaval of Saturnalia to the wider world, in an ongoing way? Elevating the oppressed and putting power into the service of the masses have always been worthy goals, far too noble to be confined to one day. If we’re to take any lessons from Saturnalia, perhaps this social upheaval starts in our own communities, when we successfully share power with the least powerful among us. Io Saturnalia!
from Paxus and Maximus:
Keegan and adder are joined by fellow commune dad Ezra Freeman to talk about raising siblings on the farm. We tend to say that age peers at Twin Oaks are much like siblings, but is this really the case? What advantages and challenges above those of friendships do kids experience? We are also joined by commune kid Lily to chat a bit about her experience as a sibling-less child.