With just two days in Eugene, and one of them the Sabbath, there’s not a whole lot that I can see. The wind is carrying me up to Portland. I had one meeting at the University of Oregon here, and took some time afterwards to visit one of my favorite structures – a kiln shed that Professor Stephen Duff built with students on the site of the university’s urban farm.
I’m in Berkeley, and my old friend Dan Rosen has been gracious enough to show me around a bit. Dan is the CEO of Solar Mosaic – a young solar company on an interesting journey.
The development of Solar Mosaic is an example of what happens when passion and commitment lead the show. The company grew from a desire on the part of its co-founders – Rosen and Billy Parish – to enable and encourage solar in whatever ways they could.
At first, they crowd sourced no-interest loans for community solar projects. They put 28.8kW of solar panels on top of The Asian Resource Center in Oakland, and continued to do the same in a small handful of other community projects. As they waded into the field, they started to sense a larger opportunity – distributed investment.
They’re about to launch a platform that will allow anybody to invest in solar projects at a respectable rate of return. The solar developers will get loans for their projects at rates below what they can get from the bank. Solar Mosaic takes a modest fee, and everyone is happy – except the banks.
The Entrepreneur Access to Capital Act that is making its way through Congress points to similar ideas – crowd-venture funding and community-owned businesses. Although they’d love to see the law pass, Solar Mosaic isn’t putting all their eggs in that basket – their investment instruments will be approved by the SEC under current laws.
What’s beautiful about what happening here is that the company’s commitment to making a difference led them into a space that they didn’t imagine they would enter. They’ll be enabling development of solar infrastructure, as they originally hoped, but they’ll be doing much more – creating a disruptive funding model that cuts out the middle-man and promises to change the way we build.
When John VanDeusen moved in across the street from his friend Christian Bradley on Joe Sayers avenue in Austin, the block looked like any other low-density urban block – a street, driveways, grass on the lawns, nothing to mark it as unusual. A few short months later, Joe Sayers avenue is anything but usual.
They call it Food is Free and the idea couldn’t be simpler: Grow your own food. Already, two thirds of the houses on the block have garden beds out front, and words is spreading quick. Beds are showing up in neighboring blocks, and “Food is Free” bumper stickers are being seen all over the city.
For water-scarce Austin, the key is the wicking bed. Instead of planting the seeds right in the earth, where they’d have to be watered nearly every day, they’re creating beds with simple water reservoirs underneath the soil. It sounds tricky, but it really couldn’t be easier. Put a layer of crushed glass underneath the soil and you have a water reservoir. The water stays cool, doesn’t evaporate, and the beds only have to be watered once every two weeks.
One of the beautiful things about the whole project is that it’s turning waste streams into food. The beds are built out of used wooden pallets and post-consumer crushed glass. John has 6 compost piles on his lawn, and anyone is welcome to throw their organic waste on the pile. Wood chips are leftovers from a local tree removal service. One of the wicking beds was made from leftover political signs. Says John – “This has to be the best use of a political sign, ever.”
To start out, John and Christian built one wicking bed, and put a white board up next to it. They wrote a short manifesto, let a lot of open space, and by the end of the week, the whiteboard was filled with email addresses. A street full of food gardens in urban America is cool, but what’s really turning people on are the side effects. Everyone on this block knows each others names, there’s a friendliness to it, and a feeling of shared mission. People are starting to think about their food systems. A quizzical look leads to a hello, a hello to a question, and a question soon leads to a new garden bed.
“We’re learning how to retrofit neighborhoods”, says Christian, looking out over an urban block that is growing into something worth talking about.
[ed: John dropped me a note, pointing out a mistake in my chronology. Here's what he writes: "Christian moved in after me, I've lived on the block for almost 3 years. He moved here in August and this project got kicked off in January. Having support on the block definitely gave the project momentum when I decided to take the plunge with the idea." Here's to the support of friends!]
I’m on the road now, exploring and investigating how we, as a species, are building this planet. From urban fabric to paving stones, I’ll be writing about what I find. First stop: Austin, Texas. How come no one told me that SXSW was happening here? Well – there’s music on every corner. My first stop, though, is a bit off the beaten path – a network of food gardens that’s transforming an otherwise unremarkable street. Stay tuned…
Inhabitat writes about the proposed 2-mile high, 1 million person Ultima Tower in Tokyo Bay.
(They neglected to write that it is an old proposal never meant to be built.)
For comparison’s sake – Brueghel’s Tower of Babel:
This crystal mountain, in Moscow, is more likely to come into the world. C.f. the above comparison.