So I awoke today to the morning light streaming in at just the right angle to reveal that the no-see-ums had invaded my bedroom via a teeny-tiny-itsy-bitsy unnoticed hole in the window screen. (Egads!) My room was a flutter with dust-mote-sized, blood-sucking denizens of suffering and I was feeling a bit helpless as I ran for the duct tape and realized that during the night my bug bites had multiplied 3-fold. (DRAT!) [Read More]
My Dogs, a Surprise on the Beach and The Angel
I was really in a bind. I was alone, no one else on the beach, and had this “situation.” Zeke was pulling hard now wanting to join his brother torture the baby seal. Al was getting more excited by the moment, and was circling the helpless baby. And I knew if I tried to walk Zeke over and grab Al, it would be all over for the baby seal. They would kill it. They’re not vicious dogs, but the excitement would turn into something awful if I let them both near the baby. [Read More]
Paris Beat
The carefree time knew no tomorrow. Camus affirmed the moment, “could live in a tree trunk…happily.” Feeling alive was enough. See red-brown leaves, smell roasting chestnuts, warm brandy coursing down your throat. Above all, the unboundedness, freedom to roam or stay, party all night or leave for Spain this afternoon. Splash sheer existence into your bearded laugh, grunting “Yess!” [Read More]
Holy maniacs, it’s Brian Doyle!
It took me a chapter or two to adapt to Doyle’s chanting blend of poetry and prose. Then I went crazy for it, wanting more and more. And I’m equally enthralled with his new novel, The Plover, which continues the saga of Declan O’Donnell, a hard ass with a heart of gold who sails off into the Pacific alone. The book is scheduled to hit the shelves tomorrow (April 8), just a few days ahead of Doyle’s keynote address at the annual Get Lit gathering in Cannon Beach. [Read More]
After the Wind Rises? (movie review)
When I hear the name Hayao Miyazaki, I think of clouds. Like the kind we see in Cannon Beach on magical evenings after the sun has set, when gold lines our horizon and pink rims giant, puffy pillars. I think of long grass, like on our sand dunes, bending gracefully before mounting winds. And I think of flying images from his films: robots, planes, pig pilots, cat busses, girls on broomsticks, skyscraper-tall gods walking through forests… [Read More]
The Value of a Good Story or Feeding the Wolf Within
Wintertime for me has always been a time of introspection and recounting. I grew up in Alaska, in a culture dominated by the traditions, myths and stories of the tribes native to that titanic place. Stories were the textbook and sustenance of many long winters for me. Oral traditions from all over the world are rooted in histories so long that they cannot be mapped.
[Read More]
The ‘Grand Anderson’ Hotel
You’ve heard of hotels where every room offers a different theme, right? Down the coast in Newport, they have one dedicated to great writers. So, with The Grand Budapest Hotel opening, it made me wonder: If Wes Anderson were a hotel, and his movies were rooms, which room would you book?
Cancer and Climate Change
Recently, a friend of mine sent along a link to a post on the blog Nature Bats Last (what a great name for a blog!), asking me to forward this post to my son (which I did). A couple of days later, my son sent me an email asking if I’d read the piece, and how depressing it was. Well, it took some time, but I finally sat down last night (after finishing filling out financial aid forms for my college-bound son this week) to finish reading this very long and heavily referenced post. [Read More]
Salmon Are My Heroes
With battered grace they thrashed upstream, bashing themselves against the current, rocks, other obstacles, and their own mortality to reach their natal waters. Their ordeal had flayed away their steely overcoats to reveal the muscle that powered their thrust toward the new life for which they would sacrifice their own. [Read More]
It’s a lot of work
It’s a lot of work
coming Home
retreading
previous paths
turning
at some fateful moment
back
to the by ways of our
Birth [Read More]
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