I recently attended a writing workshop facilitated by Jenna Butler and sponsored by the Spring Creek Project. For many years their Shoutpouch Creek Cabin has been a formative place for me. Here is where writer Charles Goodrich taught me the artistry of detailed description using the work of
Being present with the world and self in the world, returning. I love this essay's blessing. Such a praise song to these coastal mountains, to connection, even as everything is changing: "When I woke again, Sun was shouldering away the mist hanging on the ridges. Like the shapes of snowflakes, mist clings to these mountains in infinitely different ways. It tendrils and tatters, shrouds and steams, layers and laps, breathes and blankets. It caresses needled boughs with its soft and battered fingers. Mist moistens the nitrogen-fixing cling of lungwort and tree beard lichen. It constantly transforms itself and everything it touches. How could we aspire to more?"
I'm just reading your post now--starting Monday before dawn with the images of mist like snowflakes...what is writing for? You show us always in your ability to grasp what is sensory and what is weighty--like a downed Douglas-fir branch. Your writing is thin-skinned and breathing like a salamander. Another gift from Tom Titus...and your free write poem. Lovely. In the way of the Kim Stafford adage I learned--writing that skips lightly ahead of logical thought.
Oops I hit post before I meant to. I am wondering if "finding meaning" is just something we humans like to do. "What does it mean?"
And perhaps you don't have to be able to put it in Words, but somewhere inside, in our bones and our blood and our heart, the meaning is deeply understood.
I am forever gobsmacked by your writing. Growing up in the Coast Range was a rare treat. Your ability to use that pen to evoke its essence is palpable. My thanks!
Loving this .. you are always paving the way.. i instantly thought of you and our cabins and progenitors when i saw my lady slippers and bleeding hearts are up .. much love and thanks ..
So glad you keep pen to paper! I just got home from a grand adventure…Amtrak first class to Denver with help of Red Caps at stations and granddaughter at the end. Meals delivered to my roomette because stairs on trains were a bit terrifying. But I saw amazing views and snow everywhere over Donner Pass and through the Rockies. Places I’d never seen before. Then home on plane a day earlier than planned because of huge storm in the mountains which I only missed by a few days. Glad to have you in my life, Tom.
Being present with the world and self in the world, returning. I love this essay's blessing. Such a praise song to these coastal mountains, to connection, even as everything is changing: "When I woke again, Sun was shouldering away the mist hanging on the ridges. Like the shapes of snowflakes, mist clings to these mountains in infinitely different ways. It tendrils and tatters, shrouds and steams, layers and laps, breathes and blankets. It caresses needled boughs with its soft and battered fingers. Mist moistens the nitrogen-fixing cling of lungwort and tree beard lichen. It constantly transforms itself and everything it touches. How could we aspire to more?"
I'm just reading your post now--starting Monday before dawn with the images of mist like snowflakes...what is writing for? You show us always in your ability to grasp what is sensory and what is weighty--like a downed Douglas-fir branch. Your writing is thin-skinned and breathing like a salamander. Another gift from Tom Titus...and your free write poem. Lovely. In the way of the Kim Stafford adage I learned--writing that skips lightly ahead of logical thought.
Luscious and honest as ever! It seems body mind and heart are in tact and thriving, aged but agile. Grateful for your words, Barbara
Oops I hit post before I meant to. I am wondering if "finding meaning" is just something we humans like to do. "What does it mean?"
And perhaps you don't have to be able to put it in Words, but somewhere inside, in our bones and our blood and our heart, the meaning is deeply understood.
Druids and diapers stuck out to me for some reason. 😀
I am forever gobsmacked by your writing. Growing up in the Coast Range was a rare treat. Your ability to use that pen to evoke its essence is palpable. My thanks!
Vernelle
Loving this .. you are always paving the way.. i instantly thought of you and our cabins and progenitors when i saw my lady slippers and bleeding hearts are up .. much love and thanks ..
So glad you keep pen to paper! I just got home from a grand adventure…Amtrak first class to Denver with help of Red Caps at stations and granddaughter at the end. Meals delivered to my roomette because stairs on trains were a bit terrifying. But I saw amazing views and snow everywhere over Donner Pass and through the Rockies. Places I’d never seen before. Then home on plane a day earlier than planned because of huge storm in the mountains which I only missed by a few days. Glad to have you in my life, Tom.