Why do we write?
its a curious question that only few can really answer.
One thing that I am not even sure i am capable of. However, I have found myself contemplating this again and again throughout my life so far.
rant begin:
sometimes its hard to express what we are thinking, sometimes we have people in our lives that we just want to tell how much we love and cherish them and their friendship, love and compassion, but we don't know how.
sometimes we see something and are unable to say just the thing that displays the intense beauty that we find within it.
there are so many things that are confusing and wondrous and understated and there has to be an outlet to express them.
this may be why we, that write, do. It's something to explain to others how they feel at certain moments, moments that cant seem to capture in a way themselves. it captures that instant and brings it to life once again. something that is a memory or a present feeling that cant be simplified in a few words.
then why is it so hard to convince others that this is what we are meant for. the simple few who write because they know nothing else. The few that can only understand in words what they see, can only bring to life in long standing promises the things that we feel or see around us. It is this that draws writers forward. The urgent need to share these stories with others, to wrap our words around that instant and express it fully is
Songwriters write about lost loves, hearts breaking, happiness and solace. Often bringing us to tears, or pure unrequited bliss. poets make us look into ourselves and show us what is happening within a story, our story, their story. Journalists bring to life a story of someone or something that is a moment in time, novelists capture long standing events in time, real or not that allow us to imagine the impossible. Until that moment, when we see it put into print. They create magic. That is the moment that captures the innermost desires of our hearts, bringing us to a completely different place, a euphoric state that we somehow could not reach on our own.
The dogs made me do it. I promise.
Love, the northern acorn.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Cabin Life#2: Arrival
I have been struggling for a while with writing a post with some meaning behind it. something that shows the true essence of what it is that my life here in the yukon has been like. something different from the mundane everyday occurrences that so often plague the deep spaces of our minds.
When i first arrived in Whitehorse, I was relieved to have finally finished my journey, yet i didn't know that i was just beginning a new one. I didn't take the time to notice the small things around me, to really embrace the change that was about to take over me.
The sun had not yet set. the mountains surrounding the town were a lush green and filled with a magnificent wonder that i would hope to know. rivers and lakes shone in the early evening light bringing with them a question of their depth, and what lay beneath the surface of their beauty. The city came upon me initially as one of the many towns I had since been through. The buildings were placed tightly together in a small central area. Mostly businesses surrounded me, but if you looked closely you could see the tiny remnants of the past that lay between their dark exteriors; each one telling you its story.
As I headed to my destination, anxious to leave the confines of my car and wrap my arms around someone familiar I felt like this city was something unlike I had ever been to. The traffic was moving slower than i had been traveling in the past and I could swear that every car I passed, even though their windshield was cracked, or they had dents from animals in the sides, they were smiling; welcoming me to the town in their own way. Yes, this place was different. I pulled up outside of my friends work and began smiling in spite of the fatigue that I had been experiencing, in spite of everything that the past 5 days had been, and meant.
After we filled our bellies with delicious homemade pizza and local beer my friend and I headed to the place that was to be my new home. Leaving the city center and heading back on the same highway that I entered this place on. It seemed surreal. It was somehow fitting that driving to my new home began a the very place I had exited the highway. The mountains began to surround me completely and I was nervous for this new kind of life. We drove and drove further away from the center, until there were only trees, lakes, and mountains engulfing us like a birds wing around its young. Bringing comfort and silence all at once. We pulled into the long driveway and began the journey even deeper into the woods, passing by fences, with large welcoming gates announcing to everyone the desire to protect from the wilds but to welcome visitors to their homes.
When we first pulled up at the cabin I was immediately hit with how absolutely beautiful it was. Was this really where i was to be living. A place so remote, so quiet, so far from everything. I was filled with relief, wonder and absolute fear all at the same time. The four walled one room cabin is made of logs, with nick-nacks of the previous residents strewn all about, both visible and not. The elk antlers spoke of the wild that surrounded the place, pieces of wood strewn about the property showed the hard work that was required through the long winters to keep warm, to keep alive, a room with only the basic necessities available spoke of a more simple life that so many before me had strived to live. the smoke from the chimney filled the air and i shuffled my feet entering the cabin, holding on to just this one moment. My heart began to race and the wind picked up in the trees around me, and they whispered the secrets of the other people who had come to this special place. It was a place where you would be isolated, completely alone with just yourself, and that... is absolutely wonderful.
When i first arrived in Whitehorse, I was relieved to have finally finished my journey, yet i didn't know that i was just beginning a new one. I didn't take the time to notice the small things around me, to really embrace the change that was about to take over me.
The sun had not yet set. the mountains surrounding the town were a lush green and filled with a magnificent wonder that i would hope to know. rivers and lakes shone in the early evening light bringing with them a question of their depth, and what lay beneath the surface of their beauty. The city came upon me initially as one of the many towns I had since been through. The buildings were placed tightly together in a small central area. Mostly businesses surrounded me, but if you looked closely you could see the tiny remnants of the past that lay between their dark exteriors; each one telling you its story.
As I headed to my destination, anxious to leave the confines of my car and wrap my arms around someone familiar I felt like this city was something unlike I had ever been to. The traffic was moving slower than i had been traveling in the past and I could swear that every car I passed, even though their windshield was cracked, or they had dents from animals in the sides, they were smiling; welcoming me to the town in their own way. Yes, this place was different. I pulled up outside of my friends work and began smiling in spite of the fatigue that I had been experiencing, in spite of everything that the past 5 days had been, and meant.
After we filled our bellies with delicious homemade pizza and local beer my friend and I headed to the place that was to be my new home. Leaving the city center and heading back on the same highway that I entered this place on. It seemed surreal. It was somehow fitting that driving to my new home began a the very place I had exited the highway. The mountains began to surround me completely and I was nervous for this new kind of life. We drove and drove further away from the center, until there were only trees, lakes, and mountains engulfing us like a birds wing around its young. Bringing comfort and silence all at once. We pulled into the long driveway and began the journey even deeper into the woods, passing by fences, with large welcoming gates announcing to everyone the desire to protect from the wilds but to welcome visitors to their homes.
When we first pulled up at the cabin I was immediately hit with how absolutely beautiful it was. Was this really where i was to be living. A place so remote, so quiet, so far from everything. I was filled with relief, wonder and absolute fear all at the same time. The four walled one room cabin is made of logs, with nick-nacks of the previous residents strewn all about, both visible and not. The elk antlers spoke of the wild that surrounded the place, pieces of wood strewn about the property showed the hard work that was required through the long winters to keep warm, to keep alive, a room with only the basic necessities available spoke of a more simple life that so many before me had strived to live. the smoke from the chimney filled the air and i shuffled my feet entering the cabin, holding on to just this one moment. My heart began to race and the wind picked up in the trees around me, and they whispered the secrets of the other people who had come to this special place. It was a place where you would be isolated, completely alone with just yourself, and that... is absolutely wonderful.
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