"Writing in your own voice, and finding others who write (or paint, or photograph, etc.) in their own voice. It feels like freedom."
This describes perfectly how I felt when I first ventured into the world of the old Chinese and Japanese poets (I have The Ink Dark Moon myself). These were people writing about things they saw and experienced in a way that felt very similar to what I was trying to do, and I felt that connection across time and space and language and culture in a way that few things but art can provide. It's magical.
Re: all the cameras. Does that irritate you at all? To me it's come to feel like a taking without a lot of giving back. I see it out at Council Grove, my go-to sauntering place. There is a cavity in a big old ponderosa pine snag where great horned owls nest year after year. Every spring, when the owlets start poking their heads out, people with cameras and enormous lenses start camping out there and it kinda pisses me off. But I'm a cranky bastard.
Finally, I think it's funny that the cry most people associate with bald eagles – because it's the one used for them in movies – is actually that of a red-tail hawk. The real world squeaks and squeals of an actual bald eagle just aren't majestic enough, apparently. 😂
I loved this whole post sooooooo much. And this: “Writing in your own voice, and finding others who write (or paint, or photograph, etc.)...” That time period is FASCINATING- this is the first I’ve heard of it and it makes so much sense. Where emotion and decorum are freed, what can blossoms? Thank you for sharing - and go ‘merican birds and yer soaring freedom ;)
I had a wonderful time, Hannah. Thank you for introducing me to this spot! And that hole in the wall that served everything smothered in crab dip. Your photographs are fantastic. I'll share my videos and thoughts this week, and link to this lovely post, infused with poetry. I'm reading Jim Harrison and Maggie Smith at the moment.
I loved this. I've always indulged in and cherished the freedom in voices - my own and others, as an artist or even just expressive person. For some time this year another brain was swapped out with mine and I saw things differently. The environments i moved in dimmed and became subject to my ego - they were not pleasing to ME. Cue the sad music, the world darkened, color drained and it was hard to cherish voices, esp my own. Cherishing is coming back and I'll take some liberty in thinking of myself as a Japanese woman in the 8th century utilizing a foreign character set to phonetically hear my own voice. Also, can't wait to see you in the desert!
I was reading your essay and said to myself: was I near Conawingo dam on Saturday? Yes I was! I joined Rout 1 about a mile east of the dam and saw THREE bald eagles sitting in trees right alongside the highway. It struck me as odd since we weren't near water (we were on our way to Longwood Gardens to see the Christmas display.) Now I've looked at a map and seen how close I was to the dam! Holy smoke your photos are fabulous!!
Loved the eagle pics!! And I had a crab dip—tator tot dish some years ago with friends in Baltimore & we still talk about it. We all agreed it was amazing but should be eaten only once in a lifetime.
"Writing in your own voice, and finding others who write (or paint, or photograph, etc.) in their own voice. It feels like freedom."
This describes perfectly how I felt when I first ventured into the world of the old Chinese and Japanese poets (I have The Ink Dark Moon myself). These were people writing about things they saw and experienced in a way that felt very similar to what I was trying to do, and I felt that connection across time and space and language and culture in a way that few things but art can provide. It's magical.
Re: all the cameras. Does that irritate you at all? To me it's come to feel like a taking without a lot of giving back. I see it out at Council Grove, my go-to sauntering place. There is a cavity in a big old ponderosa pine snag where great horned owls nest year after year. Every spring, when the owlets start poking their heads out, people with cameras and enormous lenses start camping out there and it kinda pisses me off. But I'm a cranky bastard.
Finally, I think it's funny that the cry most people associate with bald eagles – because it's the one used for them in movies – is actually that of a red-tail hawk. The real world squeaks and squeals of an actual bald eagle just aren't majestic enough, apparently. 😂
I loved this whole post sooooooo much. And this: “Writing in your own voice, and finding others who write (or paint, or photograph, etc.)...” That time period is FASCINATING- this is the first I’ve heard of it and it makes so much sense. Where emotion and decorum are freed, what can blossoms? Thank you for sharing - and go ‘merican birds and yer soaring freedom ;)
I had a wonderful time, Hannah. Thank you for introducing me to this spot! And that hole in the wall that served everything smothered in crab dip. Your photographs are fantastic. I'll share my videos and thoughts this week, and link to this lovely post, infused with poetry. I'm reading Jim Harrison and Maggie Smith at the moment.
I love the poems and the photos!
I loved this. I've always indulged in and cherished the freedom in voices - my own and others, as an artist or even just expressive person. For some time this year another brain was swapped out with mine and I saw things differently. The environments i moved in dimmed and became subject to my ego - they were not pleasing to ME. Cue the sad music, the world darkened, color drained and it was hard to cherish voices, esp my own. Cherishing is coming back and I'll take some liberty in thinking of myself as a Japanese woman in the 8th century utilizing a foreign character set to phonetically hear my own voice. Also, can't wait to see you in the desert!
Good pacing, storytelling; challenging questions.
A wonderful wander through nature, history, women and photography, even crab fries. Brilliant photos of eagles.
A wonderful wander through language, history, photography, and nature, even crab fries. Brilliant views of the eagles
I was reading your essay and said to myself: was I near Conawingo dam on Saturday? Yes I was! I joined Rout 1 about a mile east of the dam and saw THREE bald eagles sitting in trees right alongside the highway. It struck me as odd since we weren't near water (we were on our way to Longwood Gardens to see the Christmas display.) Now I've looked at a map and seen how close I was to the dam! Holy smoke your photos are fabulous!!
Loved the eagle pics!! And I had a crab dip—tator tot dish some years ago with friends in Baltimore & we still talk about it. We all agreed it was amazing but should be eaten only once in a lifetime.