Having watched The Square, I’m still no expert on Egypt, revolutions, or humanity, but I suppose the only thing to do is keep learning. I can only offer my tiny, individual observations in this moment, knowing everyone else has their own as well. I think it would behoove anyone to see this documentary. Chronicling the uprising against the Mubarak regime that began in January of 2011, the film subsequently follows a diverse group of Egyptian revolutionaries over the course of several years’ turmoil. The interviews are intensely personal and heartfelt, and the footage is raw and realtime. This isn’t a sixty second soundbite on CNN or FoxNews. It felt like history recorded by those living it, not propaganda, not history written by the victors. Watching The Square – almost two hours in length – merits time and attention.
I first read about this film while doing a general Google search for documentaries to watch and review for my blog. I found this listicle and lo, The Square is actually available on Netflix – in fact, it’s a Netflix production and a 2013 Academy Award nominee.
The Square was directed by a woman – Egyptian-American Jehane Noujaim – which pretty much locked me into choosing it as my May documentary watch project. I appreciated the film’s inclusion of female activists (Ragia Omran, Aida El Kashef) in a largely male-dominated political arena. I also checked out Noujaim’s TED talk, and you can see that here – an emotional plea for peace through art. I’ve often heard people complain that musicians and artists shouldn’t make political statements – that they have no place doing that and should only “entertain.” I couldn’t disagree more. I don’t want to live in that world. I need music, art – and that includes street art – literature, dance – and films like this – to inform me, to inspire me. So I can keep striving to cultivate peace myself.
Tahrir Square February 10, 2011 By Jonathan Rashad (Flickr) [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons
I didn’t plan on going to John Day Fossil Beds. Driving back to Wyoming from Bend on Oregon 26 (oooh, so gorgeous), I didn’t want to show up at my motel early, so I stopped at the Sheep Rock Unit of the monument. The monument is actually three separate areas – a total of 20,000 square miles – spread out along the John Day River valley. I showed up at the Thomas Condon Visitor Center – ten minutes before closing. Bummed! I speed-wandered through the exhibit (40 million years in 8 minutes) and grabbed some pamphlets before the Ranger chased me out. Then I ambled across the road to the Historic Cant Ranch, a restored old sheep ranch and house, just as a big dark thunderstorm started to brew.
I love multi-tasking, so I listened to The Reluctant Mr. Darwin while gardening in a soft spring rain. David Quammen is my favorite science writer, though this book reads more like a mini-biography. So far, Quammen focuses on Darwin’s deep relationship with his devoutly Christian wife, Emma, and on his relationships with his scientific contemporaries, all of which contributed to his intense internal struggles over how and if he should share with the world his discovery of descent with modification by means of natural selection. Thus far, it’s a wonderful portrait of the man. Grover Gardner narrates the audiobook, and I always enjoy his voice; I’ve listened to him narrate the excellent Miles Vorkosigan novels of Lois McMaster Bujold.
I’m reading Rebecca Stott’s highly enjoyable book Darwin’s Ghosts, a lively and accessible review of the philosophers, scientists, pundits, and artists who preceded Darwin in the contemplation of evolution. Each chapter discusses a particular group or individual, so I’m getting to know a lot of historical figures in finer detail than I ever have.
I will never forget the first time I saw the Milky Way: camping in a field on a friend’s North Georgia farm during my senior year of high school. I knew then for certain what I had begun to suspect for quite some time – as an adult, I would do everything I could to avoid living where light pollution blots out the stars. I’ve done pretty well – since college, I have lived in Arizona, Montana and Wyoming, including two National Parks – as far from big cities as possible. For many years I lived in Tucson, 
She sings a song called “Paraiso Di Atlantico,” on her album 
