looking forward to hearing more from what you are saying here. Not my thoughts exactly, but very close. I'm over on the far other side of the continent from you all there in the east, but my grandfathers both came from the east, so I have some connection.
This is great, Kathleen. I think there's a need for writers in the liminal space between action and reaction. We're all in that space somewhere, dealing with the news and finding a way to move forward. I'm reminded of the bit of wisdom from Bertold Brecht (not sure the poem, only the line), something like ‘In the dark times/Will there also be singing? Yes, there will also be singing/About the dark times.’
And perhaps All Hallows Eve is a fine time to start singing about the dark times. My grandmother was born on this day in 1910 in a small Maine fishing village, born with a veil which all the local women gathered to see, because it indicated she would have the gift of seeing what others did not. And indeed, there are many stories of her intuition making her aware of things she could not have known.
So there's that... Good luck. I look forward to the weekly letters.
Thanks, Jason. I hope readers of this blog will read yours, Field Guide to the Anthropocene. The writing is both scientific, poetic and personal all at the same time. A great feat, great to read. I am glad that something about my piece triggered you to remember the great Brecht quote. I hope we will be singing. Did you read Bill McKibben's piece from Glasgow last night? It was not about the conference which he said is about as exciting as a shoe salesman's but about a large concert he attended in Glasgow specifically put on for attendees. He links to a Patti Smith song. Power to the People.
As for your grandmother...isn't that what we writers try to do: lift a veil of seeing/not seeing! And now when not seeing is so dangerous, lifting that veil is even more important!!
This past summer was unlike any I have ever experienced in my 63 years of Maine summers. The last 40 years of which have been spent on Togus Pond where most days found me out of doors swimming, kayaking, paddleboarding, planting, weeding, etc. However, this summer was different. The heat/humidity were oppressive; the rash that covered my body and woke me from my sleep with frenzied itching (brown tail moth hairs ?) seemed never ending; the algae growing under the surface of the beautiful lake was threatening to overtake our ability to convince other pond dwellers to act to save our pond; and there was no good environment news anywhere in the world. My malaise grew and was “validated” by NYT reports that I wasn’t alone - so little solace. To participate in a positive action may be the remedy - Thank you Kathleen for the call !
Thanks for your moving writing on this Dawn. So little solace!! Yes. But working together with others who share the same concerns does perk up the soul!1
looking forward to hearing more from what you are saying here. Not my thoughts exactly, but very close. I'm over on the far other side of the continent from you all there in the east, but my grandfathers both came from the east, so I have some connection.
This is great, Kathleen. I think there's a need for writers in the liminal space between action and reaction. We're all in that space somewhere, dealing with the news and finding a way to move forward. I'm reminded of the bit of wisdom from Bertold Brecht (not sure the poem, only the line), something like ‘In the dark times/Will there also be singing? Yes, there will also be singing/About the dark times.’
And perhaps All Hallows Eve is a fine time to start singing about the dark times. My grandmother was born on this day in 1910 in a small Maine fishing village, born with a veil which all the local women gathered to see, because it indicated she would have the gift of seeing what others did not. And indeed, there are many stories of her intuition making her aware of things she could not have known.
So there's that... Good luck. I look forward to the weekly letters.
Thanks, Jason. I hope readers of this blog will read yours, Field Guide to the Anthropocene. The writing is both scientific, poetic and personal all at the same time. A great feat, great to read. I am glad that something about my piece triggered you to remember the great Brecht quote. I hope we will be singing. Did you read Bill McKibben's piece from Glasgow last night? It was not about the conference which he said is about as exciting as a shoe salesman's but about a large concert he attended in Glasgow specifically put on for attendees. He links to a Patti Smith song. Power to the People.
As for your grandmother...isn't that what we writers try to do: lift a veil of seeing/not seeing! And now when not seeing is so dangerous, lifting that veil is even more important!!
This past summer was unlike any I have ever experienced in my 63 years of Maine summers. The last 40 years of which have been spent on Togus Pond where most days found me out of doors swimming, kayaking, paddleboarding, planting, weeding, etc. However, this summer was different. The heat/humidity were oppressive; the rash that covered my body and woke me from my sleep with frenzied itching (brown tail moth hairs ?) seemed never ending; the algae growing under the surface of the beautiful lake was threatening to overtake our ability to convince other pond dwellers to act to save our pond; and there was no good environment news anywhere in the world. My malaise grew and was “validated” by NYT reports that I wasn’t alone - so little solace. To participate in a positive action may be the remedy - Thank you Kathleen for the call !
Thanks for your moving writing on this Dawn. So little solace!! Yes. But working together with others who share the same concerns does perk up the soul!1
So glad you're back at it, Kathleen! I've missed your Sunday blogs and like being part of your forest!