I’ve been kind of sick for too long a while. I’d rather be sicker and have it over more quickly. There is simultaneously optimism and fear inside me – and a disheartened kind of grief. A good, gracious man I know died on New Year’s Eve; he was only 61. I’m not sure what’s going on inside my head but I need to watch videos like this and seek out information like you get here in order to continue to have faith in humanity.
I have to remind myself there are so many amazing things.
I forgot to bring my camera on my trip to see Jonah yesterday, so I’ll have to share older pics. Jonah was a good boy. He didn’t want me to sing, though, even though he was in a parroting mood. Andy had on the radio and Jonah was humming snippets of the top 40 music and saying things to himself… then suddenly he’s quiet, moving his thumb easily and naturally into his mouth as he turns to look out the window. It was a warm day – maybe even 40. My mother and I were quiet on the ride home as she tolerated my music: things like Kula Shaker, Paul Simon, Radiohead, and Death Cab for Cutie, this day. I won’t subject her to Greenday or the Grateful Dead; I know where to draw the line. It was a good visit tinged with the usual feeling that comes inside when you are driving farther and farther away from your innocent ten year old son.
Today I made chicken cacciatore and M and I are watching Dick Proenneke’s Alone in the Wilderness. It’s such an amazing documentary that tears come to my eyes as I watch it. This man built a cabin in the middle of Twin Lakes, Alaska (where he was the only human) and lived there for thirty years, 1968-1998, until he was 81 years old. He carved spoons and bowls out of wood in a matter of hours. He could chop down 40 trees and shape them into useable logs to build the cabin, all before noon. Amazing things. He built carriers for food and moss. Caught fish and avoided bear. Somehow didn’t go insane even while so literally alone.
The things he accomplishes – the way he thinks, the way he moves through the world — it’s so mind-blowing sometimes I have no reaction but to laugh out loud in astonishment.
He builds tools, tables, chairs; intricate, near-perfect hinges; neat, even boards for shelves and working surfaces. He narrates most of the movie, sets the camera on a tripod and films himself measuring, building, climbing, chopping, carving, cooking, gardening. Everything handmade. A plane would come only, I think, twice a year to bring him very basic supplies. Are there still people like him, people who know civilization but choose to leave it, with talent and skill and that true harmony with nature? I am in such awe of it. No wonder I love Laura Ingalls Wilder.
For me these people speak of possibility, and resilience, and determination.
It’s good for me today. So here are some random things while I make my exit to watch some more about Mr. Proenneke:
Silly Me
ScareMeNots recycle!
Baby Jonah…
Looking right at me.
Gustav Klimt’s
The Kiss
The Never Normal 