1 hour ago · 25 min read4944 words · Culture · hide · 0 comments

I started October at the third Festival of Commoning, in Stroud again. As seems to be normal now at the Festival, there was discussion about what this commoning thing actually is (I blogged them too - Commoning and Festival of Commoning take two). But this year it felt like maybe it didn't matter so much, or the tent is just tacitly agreed to be a big one. In the welcome session it was described as "a global movement, acting locally," and the poster had some examples. What if we had more say in the things we depend on? That's where commoning comes in. You are already commoning, whether you know it or not. My rough notes follow - these are my attempt to capture things and so may be wrong, focussed on specific aspects that caught my attention, etc. The welcome session included some singing. We heard Maggie Holland's 1990s song A Place called England which has aged pretty well. Worth a listen. And we all sang The Manchester Rambler together.I may be a wage slave on Monday, but I have my…

No comments yet. Log in to reply on the Fediverse. Comments will appear here.