I’ve spent the last few months slowly working my way through Wendell Berry’s Art of the Commonplace, which I have to say has become not only one of my favorite books but also in my opinion serves as a tribute to everything that could, one day, be made whole with us and out communities, in spite of the devastation visited upon all of us by industrialization run amok.

One of the final essays in the book is called “The Idea of a Local Economy”. This essay really resonates with some of the unspoken forces that guide us in our work, and is a blessing in how clearly it articulates both the environment we (as a community) operate in, and the actions we can take to restore our health (as a community).

Basically, he shows, at a time where our dedication to exploiting all matter reduces everyone to malnourished vassals of unfettered oligarchs — making us not unlike the perpetually sick, cornfed cows we pack into feedlots — our path to redemption lies in the self-sufficiency and shared worth realized in small, local economies.

OK, my summary is lousy, he’s the writer. Read the whole thing here.

This essay was fresh in my mind as I took a break from work last nite to walk to the (chain) store to buy razor blades, deodorant, and toothpaste, and also stopped to pick up some kombucha. Looking at the organic, chemical-free deodorant which is still made in some unknown factory with an unknown approach to our shared resources and unknown thoughts about people — and undoubtedly made by a public company that values maximizing its profit above all else — it struck me that lots of people in my neighborhood could probably make these things, if they don’t already.

Lynne from Wingshadows Hacienda makes lotions and soaps with the milk from her goats (they are marvelous). I know several people in town who do metal work, and I know a couple guys who dig the art of the straight-razor, I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before someone could start making them here. Michael and Steph here at the Linkery made soap with some of the beef tallow we had left over once, and have been experimenting making kombucha.

I have a belt I found with some items belonging to my great-grandfather. It’s not a particularly ornate belt — they were farm people in Central California — but it seems to have been made by a craftsman and is stamped “1908″. One wonders, how many of the belts I bought in a mall will make it 100 years and still bear the personality of the hands that shaped it.

Everywhere I look in my neighborhood, I see artisans and people exploring craftmanship, whether it’s making bikes, knitting, brewing, garment-making, gardening, fine art, or so many other things. I think we could be on the cusp of having a dedicated, real, local economy right here, which could provide an amazing percentage of the things we need.

Walking back to work I passed several empty storefronts and it made me wonder how long it will be before we could sustain a retail business entirely with necessities and joys made by our friends and neighbors. Not long, is my guess.