Julia Davis - A community that picnics together…
We hosted a community picnic on a sunny day in August 2020
We picnicked physically by the Community Orchard and virtually in the Zoom room. It was fun and there’s a poem!
The sun shone outside and inside on Saturday and maybe the most fun was bobbing in and out of the two picnics – here’s a wave from the outside physical blanket:
A friendly wave from one picnic location to another!
So, we were all having a different experience of the picnic – the most important thing for me (aside from having some fun) was that we made sure we tried to include everyone. This strikes me as central for the sort of community people are hoping to build. I think the virtual picnic was a slower-paced affair; a bit like slow radio, writing together from our sofas and focusing in on what we really felt in detail about how our home should feel. Meanwhile, in the physical picnic, there was a lot of action we could see and children darting in waving post-its and giggling as they raced around. More of a broad brushstroke approach as people worked with talking with each other whilst socially distancing.
As this was happening it was a joy to host some online writing, listening to people and sharing some quite meditative writing experiences together.
It was an experiment and we learned a lot
I took on the role of “host” in Zoom and it struck me, once again, how very different this is in the virtual world to the physical world. It was really quite impossible to gauge how the participants in the Zoom room were feeling. It also struck me that the importance of the previous physical meeting is an element in being able to read reactions. And another; that in regular Zoom meetings where people have met only online before, but continue to meet, there’s a completely different atmosphere too.
So, for me, this experience felt like the equivalent of being told that a few people, who I completely didn’t know, were turning up for lunch. Despite warning, and lots of party games and things to do, it felt really quite difficult to get people talking together. And maybe much more difficult in a small group.
Although a challenge I feel we settled into a relaxed atmosphere; maybe feeling like a first meet up in a coffee shop. Maybe next time we can go two by two and have two people hosting in the physical space and two people in the Zoom space helping to get the banter going! We also, sadly, lost a few people who registered (please accept our apologies for this if you’re reading this now) and couldn’t get into Zoom room, as we worked out afterwards that there was too much multi-tasking – hence the experiment taught us that we need… more hosts!
And maybe next time we will have more connected things to do. So, we could be making a poem in the chatbox whilst there are some specific pictures and drawings being made to exactly the same theme (maybe A2 size hanging on a washing line?) and at exactly the same time - although with social distancing this could be challenging – all part of the experiment.
I do love this idea of the visualisation of material in the physical world of what is happening at exactly the same time on a different plane in the virtual world.
And maybe we can develop some phys-virt activity using all the wonderful rich material collected on ideas for future connected living from the ideas collected at the physical picnic a big post-it deep dive poetry making session online and offline – another way to share our ideas, hopes and actions.
It’s an experiment – and such fun in exploring how it all works.
And there’s the collective poem!
We did our writing together in this virtual imaginary space envisaging what home should be. We got the most wonderful contributions and descriptions of how people felt using all their different senses. Read, or hear, the finished poem below.
If there was ever a home
If there was ever a home
There would be openness through windows
Taking each everyday glance to
The plants of our lives
And into that open breathable place
If there was ever a home
It would smell like coffee and street food
And freshness of no immediate traffic
And so many different smells
You would stop and think for a second
It would smell like the mint, sage, thyme
Lavender, cut grass and tarragon of life
Fresh breeze and rosemary
Oregano and blackberries
If there was ever a home
It would sound like
The purr of the far off traffic
People talking near
And the sounds of cooking, always cooking
It would sound like the trees rustling
That children’s swing
that so needs oiling
The cycle wheels on new pebbles
It would sound like
Birds and children playing
And the susurration of trees
Their murmurs their gentle murmurs
If there was ever a home
It would taste like pasta, tomatoes, apples
And oranges and lemons on the tongue
Fresh toothpaste and bubbles
Fresh soup and lime based curry
It would taste like chocolate
And wood smoke
and dampness
And fresh baked bread
If there was ever a home
It would look so open and bright
And the rounded white corners
Of spaces to play with light
And records lining the walls
There is ever this home
The cats are lounging
The people are talking
The trees are singing
The children are playing safe
As we make it together here and now
8 August 2020 from the YoCo picnic, physical and virtual held together for everyone