KP Permaculture

Permaculture in the City

Permaculture is a great family project, and it works well in any setting. In the city, brought composting to our co-op. The building has 104 units in two buildings, so we bought a large composter. After gaining Board approval, we assembled the composter in the yard behind the buildings. There was good enthusiasm for the project, and many people were excited to be able to compost. The project did require, however, some education to our members about what can be composted and how to use the device. Although the composter is simple, we found there was some confusion early on about where to put compost and when to remove it. We solved this easily with an announcement at the annual shareholders’ meeting, handouts, and a sign posted on the composter. We monitor the upkeep and remove the compost as needed. Surprisingly, even the huge amount of food scraps created by our two buildings is reduced to a small amount of finished compost, which will be used in our small building gardens.

Another easy city project is building worm bins. We chose a simple construction of layered bins, with minimal outlay of funds. The setup consists of two rubber bins stacked on top of each other. Holes are drilled in the bottom of each bin to allow liquid to drain and allow worms to travel from bin to bin. The lower bin is filled with wet newspaper strips, in which food scraps are buried, and covered with the lid. As the scraps are eaten and the bin fills with worm droppings, the second bin is added to top. When most of the worms are gone from the bottom bin (they never all leave), the compost can be used. The top bin then becomes the new bottom bin and the process repeats. We got a donation of extra worms (these guys grow and reproduce fast!) from a neighbor, also composting in the city. The bins are in back of our co-op in the nice weather, but we’ll have to find another place for them in the cold weather. We have not opened the worm bins up for use by other building residents, because we are worried about confusion and misuse. Surprisingly, we have not had a problem with odor or with flies, even though we include fruit in our scraps.

The Great Land Quest

A few years ago, my wife and I began to look seriously at the possibility of purchasing land in Upstate New York. We had many reasons—a desire for a place to escape, from to time to time, from the mad clatter of Manhattan; a wish for the children to have some space and the ability to connect with nature; a spot to do some gardening over summers.

Over time our vision evolved into one which would encompass various elements of our lives, including the creation and support of an intellectual and artistic community (by sponsoring writers retreats and conferences on the land) and the desire to participate in the growing sustainability movement (through the study, implementation, and promotion of Permaculture principles).

But simply saying one wants to buy land upstate doesn't narrow the search too much. We knew certain things we wanted and didn't want—but there comes a point when deeply held desires and beliefs conflict. Was the plan to have two homes indefinitely, or, at some point, to move out of the city entirely? Was it financially feasible to own both an apartment in the city and land in the country, especially in light of coming fuel shortages? Was it ethical? And where, exactly, could we go that would give us space to garden, farm and hold retreats, but would also provide the social and intellectual connections that we were looking for?

The question of city versus country has caused a longstanding debate in the peak oil and Permaculture community. At a superficial level, the city seems to have much going for it. On average a person living in walkable, public-transit friendly Manhattan uses far less energy than the a rural dweller who must drive 30 or 40 miles to get to a supermarket.

But in myriad other ways, big city life presents big problems for anyone who is trying to become even marginally more self-reliant in terms of energy and food. Whereas on even a moderately sized suburban plot it is possible to grow a substantial amount of one's yearly produce, space in New York (especially Manhattan) comes at a much greater premium. Transit in the city is efficient—as long as the electric grid is reliable, and transit workers are not on strike (as New Yorkers found out in 2003 and 2005, respectively). Multi-unit space heating is also efficient—usually much more efficient than the typical American heating of a single-family home. But it is also very inflexible and difficult to retrofit—one can't just put in an wood-burning stove or build a south-facing solar-greenhouse in an apartment if heating oil becomes unaffordable or even unavailable.

From the Permaculture perspective, the answer for urban dwellers is to make use of what cities have in abundance—social networks, intellectual capital, etc.—and to focus on things like education, community activism, community gardening, and so forth. But I think for many if not most there is also a pull toward someplace else, where the individual and community can actually produce the basic necessities of life without relying on the seamless functioning of institutions whose operations are inscrutable and far beyond the influence, much less control, of a single person.

On the other hand, where would that someplace be? As we have discovered, imagining it is much easier than finding it.

Why Permaculture?

In 2007, my wife and I founded KP Press Books with the goal of publishing great fiction that was, for whatever reason, unlikely to be picked up by the mainstream commercial presses.

Beyond just publishing, though, we envisioned KP Press as a nexus to help build and connect a community of artists who care deeply about great writing.

During the same period, our interests and concerns about the issues of peak oil, climate change and resource depletion became more and more acute. Looking beyond the confusing and contradictory noise of the mainstream media, it became increasingly clear that the world was coming upon an inflection point, after which none of the things we count on in the modern world could be taken for granted.

With this deep concern in mind but with a desire to focus on positive and creative responses to the world’s converging resource and environmental crises, last year I completed a 72 hour Permaculture Design Certificate course.

Initially envisioned by founders Bill Mollison and David Holmgren as a way to create “Permanent Agriculture,” over the years the term Permaculture came to encompass a broader ethic which designs and embraces innovative techniques for energy and water conservation, natural building and the bioremediation of natural habitats. Today the Permaculture movement goes beyond “Permanent Agriculture” toward “Permanent Culture,” an ethic which aims for sustainability in all areas of human activity.

Taking the class was in many ways an unexpected step for me. As my old college roommate (who is now a small-scale organic farmer) said, “What the hell is Lakis doing taking a Permaculture class?” As someone who has lived in Manhattan for the last decade, has never gardened and has no extensive background in science, much less biology, spending ten weekends learning about plants and water and sun and soil was a big shift for me.

But more vital than any gardening or natural building tips I got from the class was a renewed appreciation of the capacity for individuals and small communities to be self-reliant in the most vital arenas of life.

Those of us who live in the developed, modern world find ourselves in an unusual position. Wealthy in ways unimaginable to most human beings throughout history, we also find ourselves unimaginably dependent on a complex of distant corporations and government—what Lewis Mumford called “The Megamachine”—for everything from our basic subsistence to every aspect of what we think of as culture: what we wear, what we listen to and, of course, what we read.

So what does Permaculture have to do with opening a small literary press?

KP Press Books plans to purchase land which will serve as both an artists’ retreat and a Permaculture demonstration site including training in Permaculture design, ecological farming, forest gardening and natural building. Eventually, the site will house a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) designed using Permaculture principles.

But in addition, the press itself will seek to embody the principles of Permaculture—not only by employing sustainable production methods but by embracing the ideals of self-reliant, human-scale, community-centered enterprise. And aside from food, water and energy, what could be more central to culture than its art?