Buck Hall, the main meeting room at Marconi Conference Center, which in the 1970’s had housed one of the Synanon communites.

I arrived yesterday at the Marconi Conference Center on Tomales Bay in Western Marin County, some beautiful miles west and north of the Golden Gate Bridge, for the 33rd annual Communal Studies Association Conference, a gathering of mostly academics who research and present papers in this field.

A group of academic folk who study communes (and get a little needlework done while listening) attend one of the many presentations at the conference. We were listening to Susan Love Brown talk about a Rastafarian intentional community that flourished in Jamaica in the 1940’s.

Tomorrow I speak as part of a panel about life on Northern California communes, along with Ramon Sender Barayon (first resident of Morningstar commune, resident of Wheeler Ranch commune, author of A Death in Zamora, my co-author on Being of the Sun, and pioneer of electronic music), Arthur Kopecky (former resident of and author of two books journaling his days at New Buffalo commune in New Mexico), and Delia Moon (founder/owner of Bodega Pastures commune, former resident of Star Mountain commune, and doctoral candidate in sociology, who will presenting her documentary about communal residents.)

Ramon Sender Barayon (right) and his wife Judith Levy Sender (second from right) at lunch at the conference, along with Ruth Lambach (second from left) and Julius Rubin (left).

I guess I should qualify myself, too. I lived at Wheeler Ranch commune, founded Star Mountain commune with the advance from my first published book, lived at Packer Corners Farm commune in Vermont and participated in creating its communal book, Home Comfort, and wrote/illustrated/designed Living on the Earth, the most famous insider’s account of commune life of its time, which is still used as a textbook in college courses on the history and culture of twentieth century utopian communes. Yes, indeed. I belong here, too.

Megan Mulet presenting her paper on the gift economy at Burning Man.

One of the highlights of today’s presentations was by Megan Mulet, a sociologist from UCLA, who has been attending Burning Man the last seven years, and, in the past three, gifted her time as a census taker (her Burner nickname is “The Countess”). She spoke about the benefits of living in a gift-giving economy for those of us living in what she dubbed the “default world,” (she says that’s a Burning Man term), which is more involved in Market Pricing, Equal Exchanges, and/or Priority Status, than in Communal Sharing.

I loved presenting my show! I told stories about my communal life and how Living on the Earth came into being, plus sang songs from all three of my CDs.

The last time I played music with the Amana band was in 2002 in Hawaii. They’ve been inviting me to visit them in Okinawa ever since.

Whoopee. I am going to Japan for a month—to play music, talk about sustainable living, and lead a weekend workshop October 20-22 at a campground where we make magical objects from recycled materials per instructions in Living on the Earth, walk in the forest, do yoga, massage each other’s feet, cook outdoors and sing for each other at our campfire. All this as the guest of the Artist Power Bank, an environmental arts group, at whose Tokyo cafe and educational center Kurkku I will do my environmental awareness concert and talk at 7 PM on October 18th.

When I first get to Tokyo, I’ll perform jazz and blues from my 3rd CD, What Living’s All About, at the deadhead nightclub Yukotopia, founded by my friend Yuko Tsukamoto. That will be at 8:30 PM on October 8 and at 7:15 PM on October 9.

Toward the end of my stay, I’ll visit the three-woman trance band, Amana, in Okinawa, where I will play a mixed set (folk, Hawaiian, jazz, blues) on October 28 at the two-day Happy Flower Beach Party Festival. On October 29, I’ll attend Soul of Donto, a tribute festival that Sachiho Kojima, the leader of Amana, is putting on to honor her late husband, the rock star Donto, at which his songs are performed and the devoted fans in the audience sing along.

All of this was made possible by Koki Aso, the journalist who created a six-page photo and interview article about me that ran in the June 2005 issue of Be Pal, an environmental and outdoor living magazine in Japan. He wanted to see me have a Japan tour, so he contacted Artist Power Bank, which is buying my plane ticket.

In between the Artist Power Bank activities and the Okinawa trip, I get to visit him and his wife at their traditional Japanese farmhouse outside Kamakura, too, where he has a vegetable garden and makes his own miso. Goes fishing on weekends. He’s a real back-to-the-land kinda guy.

I am returning for the first time since 1974, when I toured as a guest of Soshisha, Ltd., my publisher, in support of the Japanese editions of Living on the Earth, Being of the Sun, and my three children’s books. I was astonished to discover large political demonstrations and honored to meet artists, writers and environmental activists.

I delighted in the beauty of even the most mundane things, drew lots of pictures, and ate everything served to me with pleasure. As a California native, I’d rarely seen buildings over 100 years old. In Japan I saw temples and statues over 1000 years old. Mercy! The gardens. The architecture. The crafts. The graphics and design. And what sweet people.

I can hardly wait.

Boy, can I relate to this page from Living on the Earth, even though I drew it 37 years ago. I’ve been nearly a week in bed with the flu. I am waiting for my vitality to return.

I just finished reading Mezz Mezzrow’s Really the Blues, the autobiography of an early 20th century jazz musician and social justice advocate from Chicago. I drink Throat Coat tea, consume various natural remedies and sleep. Nothing works better than applying heat. Viruses die when the body’s temperature raises, so I press a heating pad to my sinuses and upper chest. The pain retreats.

In my temporary quarters at my aunt’s house I am obliged to use dialup. What will slow you down better than that? One can meditate between page openings.

Stephen Gaskin, the author and philosopher from whose Monday Night Class in 1968 in San Francisco I picked up the quote above, lead the group that founded The Farm, arguably the largest, most financially successful, most charitable, most influential, and most long-lasting hippie commune in the world.

I’ve got months of fabulous travels ahead, so I am going to take my time resting to let my body really get over this.

Leaving beautiful Hilo, Hawai’i on a rainy morning, looking down upon her harbor and sea wall. Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea are obscured by clouds.

The summit of Mauna Kea, with Mauna Loa on the horizon.

Mount Hualalai, on the Kona coast, appears as we round the summit of Mauna Kea, Mauna Loa in the background.

Pearl Harbor from the air, just before we land in Honolulu to change planes. The coastlines of the islands vary by 1000 feet of elevation between ice ages; Pearl Harbor was once a river valley.

The Kalaupapa peninsula, a separate volcano from the rest of Moloka’i island, once famed as a leper colony, is at the bottom of the photo. Beyond Moloka’i (in the foreground) lie the West Maui Mountains and Haleakala volcano on Maui, and to the right of Maui, Lana’i island and beyond it, Kaho’olawe island. On the horizon are the peaks of Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa on the island of Hawaii.

The tallest sea cliffs in the world, on Moloka’i, are at the bottom of the photo. Above, the family of volcanic islands that comprise the eastern, most recently formed, end of the archipelago.

What are the oldest Hawaiian islands? Kure and Midway Islands, at the western end of the archipelago. And the newest? It’s called Loihi. Its summit is 2000 feet below the surface of the ocean, but it’s 18,000 feet high (and growing). It’s to the east and south of the Big Island, just where you would have expected it to be if you drew a curved line through the volcanoes of the Hawaiian Islands and predicted where the lava flume would come up next as the earth’s plates shift. When it erupts, clouds of steam and vog obscure the horizon for miles. Scientists visit it in submersibles.

Today the clouds lifted, offering a rare view of the summit of Mauna Loa from Hilo. Erosion makes mountains steep; Mauna Loa’s gradual slope to 13,000 feet above sea level shows it is still a young volcano, what geologists call a shield volcano. But Mauna Loa grew from a vent in the ocean floor twenty thousand feet below sea level, so it is really 33,000 feet tall, and, unsurprisingly, holds the world record as a mountain for sheer cubic feet of mass. Although neighboring Kilauea volcano has erupted almost constantly for decades, making it the world’s most active volcano, Mauna Loa’s summit has expanded over the past couple of years, arousing speculation it is due to blow some time soon. I saw fire fountains on Mauna Loa through a telescope from Hana, Maui in 1975.

Sunset and full moon light up Mauna Kea, the tallest volcano on Hawaii Island. At the summit stand a dozen astronomy facilities from as many countries. Hawaii’s pure air and isolation from the electrically illuminated continents make it the premier spot on the planet for star gazing. This could end soon; the already huge military facility in the saddle between Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea was expanded this year to include a training ground for using weapons and armored vehicles, both of which raise dust, which is anathema to telescopes. The trainings also destroy the fragile desert eco-system and ancient Hawaiian archeological sites in the saddle, disturb the people whose homes are in earshot, and possibly are contaminating the soil and the headwaters of Hawaii’s streams with radiation from depleted uranium in the weapons.

Mauna Loa and Mauna Kea from an airplane, the morning after a March 2002 snowstorm.

Haleakala, a 10,000 foot volcano on Maui, from the air the same day. The shoreline to the left is the Wailea resort area, the broad white beach directly below is Makena Beach. La Perouse Bay (with lava flows on both sides) is to the right, and beyond lies the desert coast of Kanaio and Kaupo.

Landscape plants in Hawaii. Some native, some alien. All beautiful.

Laua’e fern, a native plant with a distinctive fragrance similar to that of maile, the leafy vine used to make leis presented to honor people. Laua’e is widely used in floral arrangements and table decorations in Hawaii.

Red ti plant. Ti is also indigenous to Hawaii. Sacred to the healing god Lono, ti is still planted at the corners of many homes for protection. Ancient Hawaiians used the fiber to make rope and sandals, the leaves for transporting or cooking foods, the root to make an alcoholic beverage. Hula dancers still use the leaves to make skirts, and lei makers make leis of fresh ti leaf fiber.

Monstera deliciosa is an introduced species that produces a fruit shaped like a corn cob that ripens a few kernels at a time, making it inconvenient to pick and eat, but the ripe fruit is sweet and smells like pineapple.

Crotons come in dozens of sizes, shapes and colors. One plant will sprout leaves a variety of color combinations.

Narrow-leafed crotons are great fun to use in tropical floral arrangements.

Hapu’u (tree fern) a native species, seen from above, growing amid ohia trees in the windward rainforest. The pink small-leafed plant is Hawaiian Snow, and the larger red and green leaves are ti.

Bamboo, a fastgrowing and therefore sustainable source of building and craft material as well as a wellspring of grace and privacy in the garden. Gardeners plant miniature bamboo to make stakes for vines.

Meet my dear friend Norma Bell, septugenarian Italian hula queen from Brooklyn. Mind you, she’s lived in Hawaii since the early ‘sixties, and she’s got the aloha spirit. In this photo I’m playing guitar and she’s dancing a choreography she composed to my song Ukulele Hula, from my CD Living in Hawaii Style. We’re at her birthday party in 2004.

This is her hula halau (hula school), all senior women in her neighborhood in Keaau, Hawaii. The troup is called Pua Kea (white flowers). I love Hawaii. I hope I’m getting together once a week with my best girl friends to sway my hips to songs about nature when I’m in my seventies. Norma’s the last one on the right. What expression she has!