FROM BELLA (founder & creative director)
Dear Sage community,
Here we are, digitally, on Substack! Print is, of course, our beloved and preferred medium but new times call for new ways of communication. In between our bi-annual zine launches, we’ll be sharing every other week on Substack with you all. We’ll share stories of what’s happening at Sage/behind the scenes, what’s happening in our community, concepts we’re thinking about, podcasts we’re listening to, general ponderings, and a whole lot of rambles. The good kind!
I’m Bella, the founder and head of Sage. My interests lie at the intersection of storytelling, small-scale farming, and community care. These days I’m thinking a lot about place-based relationships and meaning-making. What grows strong resilient communities? What cultivates connections to place? How do we care for our communities?
Sage Happenings
Issue #9 is now sold out but you can find the last of the copies for sale at the farm store at Bread & Butter Farm in Shelburne, VT. If you haven’t been before, it’s certainly worthy of a visit.
The week before last, my creative partner, Carina and I began our in-the-field days for issue #10.
Monday 9/23, 8am. Roxbury, VT.
Monday kicked off with a drive out to Roxbury to visit Misse Axelrod at Drift Farmstead and Vermont Farm and Forest School. With a jar of coffee in my hand and a sweater in the other (still getting used to the cool fall mornings), I hopped into Carina’s car with a big grin. A big day! After good morning greetings and a how did you sleep?, we sat there with giddiness and disbelief that we were venturing out to start the new issue. Moments like this feel surreal. We’ve spent many hours brainstorming, imagining, and working out logistics, and at that time it all felt so far away. 45 minutes later, we turn off a dirt road and the Drift Farmstead is in view. The long driveway takes us past goats, garden beds, a yellow house, a red building, and then a little parking area. The cool morning air surrounds us as we put on layers and gather our recording tools (notebook, camera, phone). As Carina uses the outhouse, I venture over to the two cattle (Lars & Firefly I later learn are their names). We hear Misse’s laugh around the corner of the building and Carina says, there she is! Carina has spent time in this space over the summer and graciously throughout the day leans over to my ear to add tidbits, side notes, and knowledge of this place. A subtle piece of evidence of how this place touches passerby-ers, guests, visitors, and workers. We find Misse and settle into a nearby picnic table to record a conversation (what you’ll read in issue #10). We walk through the farm, school yurts, and forest trails and after 2 hours with us, Misse is off to teach art to the students. Her words are not included here, of course, because well… you’ll have to read our new issue in the wintertime! Our day continues as we head back west to Shelburne to visit Bread & Butter Farm/Blank Page Café and chat with Mike Proia. This is a place I’ve frequented and find a lot of comfort and joy in. Carina now spends many days a week here as a mentor at the Village School. We walked in waving hello to Eric and Becca, Ella, Alex, and Griffin. We sat down with Mike and quickly into our conversation brought up this question, how do you define community? as part of a story he was sharing. I’m still thinking about that question—and perhaps it’s impossible to put into words. To me, it’s a feeling. It’s nourishment. It’s belonging. It’s care. It’s resilience. It’s challenge. It’s joy.
Monday 9/30, 3pm. Burlington, VT.
After our respective workdays, with dirt-stained pants, Carina and I visited Grace Oedel at her home in Burlington. After a warm greeting, she showed us around her house filled with paper mache puppets and sculptures for the upcoming Rosh Hashanah celebration, colorfully painted walls, and wall hangings of all kinds. Outside, we were greeted by her children’s nature museum shelves—a collection of findings, trinkets, and treats they had brought back. Grace laughs explaining that it’s almost at capacity, as rock and acorns spill out onto the porch. Down the back porch led to her backyard and we snacked on raspberries, golden berries, and blackberries before stepping into the small home ADU built by New Frameworks. Back inside, over tea and ceramic dishes of sweets, we cozied up in her colorful living room to hear her stories. Once again, we won’t include her stories for now, because you’ll find them in issue #10—but I’ll say this: Carina and I left feeling so grateful for all of Grace’s organizing work, community caretaking, joy, and creativity. We are lucky to know her!
Friday, 10/4. 8:30am. Williston, VT.
Bringing us now up to date, this morning I flew solo (Carina was working) to Mama’s Farm in Williston to spend time with the wonderful folks of The People’s Farmstand. Down a gravel driveway past many chickens, I pulled into a lot neighboring the veggie fields. After sleepy introductions and hellos, we moved through the veggie beds—everyone self-organizing into little harvest groups. Collards and chard were bunched, daikons were pulled, peppers and eggplants were plucked. Silly songs and stories floated through the air. A deep sense of relationality was present as they made decisions on quantity and variety to distribute based on community-needs and culturally relevant foods. Those chiming in seemed to have knowledge of what was preferred based upon relationships they’d built with veggie receivers. As the sun peeked out, owner of Mama’s Farm, Hyacinthe joined us in the field sharing her knowledge of the spicy versus non-spicy peppers and the best colors to pick. As the bins, totes, and buckets filled up, the crew loaded it into their cars and we made our way to Morning Light to eat, chat, and finish the morning. I write this at 12:34pm, as I am about to head out the door to visit their project The Village Hydroponics and hang out with them during this evening’s distribution to the community. More on this in issue #10.
What I’m Tuning Into This Week
Christine Tyler Hill’s Substack: Tender Dispatches, always.
John Prine’s Bruised Orange album.
The work of L’Chaim Collective.
We’ll be sharing a Substack newsletter every other week for the coming months—switching off between the three of us behind Sage. In two weeks, you’ll hear from my co-creator, Carina, then Clara, our editor.
Take care,
Bella Brodsky
Founder & Head of Sage
hello@sagezine.com
Take care, a common greeting and goodbye, is said casually and reflexively. When we truly mean it, it’s a reflection of the necessity of care in our world. Take care of yourself until the next time we meet. Take care of your community, your home, your neighbors, and friends. Take care of the stream near your house or the book you’re flipping through.
Want to work together, collaborate, make something happen in Burlington, or talk about community care? Send us a note at hello@sagezine.com.