and the Space of Place
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This is lailuwàn, mid-winter in Unami Lenape, a season of stories, a season in which we tend to talk about anything but the weather and anything but what is actually going on around us. A season where, post-holiday, post-family, community and connection falters. This is a season that is much more than simply speaking or…
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These stories are often more reflective of our actual experiences than any other season. There is truth to be found in stories told in the cold dark of the winter season.
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And make no mistake that the medicine that the Purdy’s found at that lake was no doubt strong. But the A-Frame that they built on that lake in the middle of Loyalist country became an receiver of that medicine, funneled towards its positive nature.
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Understand that part and parcel of looking towards building a healthy relationship with First Peoples and settler governments we must start with words, names, and symbols. For ten of thousands of years people have moved about the land, come to understand it in way that is both spiritual and physical, and have developed names and
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There is a surging wave of total modern Americanism that has yet to crash here and in the still before something that might never come, is the idea that homes and living are cheap, and ambitions have little to do with leaving, more to carry on something better than they were left with.
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So today it is. This is official release date for my second poetry collection, This City at the Crossroads. This is that moment where the writer rejoices, embraces the idea that their work has been brought forth to the world, and all the toil behind it is officially brought from the private shadow into the
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I’ve been thinking and working a great deal in the realm of Indiana, getting lost in the Hoosier Heartland if you will. Perhaps it came from the great darkness that seemed to have gripped onto the river narrows since the start of the year. That darkness brought on the need to day dream about warm,
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So I was reading along in this fine copy I recently picked up of Ralph Gustafson’s Sequences when I came across his poem “At Moriane Lake” and was struck by something that I just haven’t been able to let go. The poem opens with the line “Canada, a country without myths.” Right away, I was
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Snapper by Brian Kimberling Pantheon Books, 2013 ISBN: 978-0307908056 Let’s just start with a couple of biases upfront with this book. My wife is a massive bird nut and maybe, just maybe, I’ve caught a little bit of the warm fuzziness that accompanies this particular love affair. Next, that Snapper finds its foundational sense of
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I received a comment from filmmaker Nick Sherman about the previous posting. He’s made a film titled Soundtracker that follows Gordon Hempton and his quest to capture soundscapes. It looks very cool and thought anyone out there reading the last post might be in to seeing this film. It is available via Netflix. Soundtracker trailer:
Wazhashk Poetry 