Happy Holiday Update

An update with snapshots of the last couple of weeks. I have been taking a much-needed and spontaneously-planned break from technology lately, meaning the blog updates have taken a back seat to socializing, reading, writing, and participating in outdoor sports. 

At the moment I am with my family staying at a swanky place in Uculet overlooking the winter surf crashing up against the black rocks of a cove. I’ve had a great couple of days out surfing on my own, and with a new friend today that I met while looking out at the waves. I think I’m going to stick around in Tofino for a few days on my own instead of heading back to the city with my family tomorrow. No more plans over the break, and I don’t have to be back at work until the 7^th, so just going where the adventure takes me. With my future job prospects uncertain it’s nice to check out new places while asking myself if I could live there. So far so good over here on the island; perhaps a visit to ski on Mt. Washington on my way back will make it even more intriguing. Skiing and surfing in the SAME DAY while living in a rural setting! What more could a person like me need?

Before school ended for the break we hosted a very successful Holiday Tea Party. The students showed our guests around the miniature Santa’s village they had been constructing, handing out “Go through ticket[s]” that they made themselves. There were roads, trees, a backdrop mural, Santa’s sleigh flying through the classroom air pulled by candy cane reindeer, the North Star made from those plastic six-ring things that hold cans together in bundles of six, Northern Lights, a skating rink, waterfall and river. The students came up with all of the ideas, and I just facilitated by providing the materials and helping them where they needed a little more scaffolding to figure out how to turn an idea into a material thing. I’m just loving this project-based approach to education. I’ll post some pictures when I’m back at my desk. We also showed our holiday movie which was filmed to the tune of “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas”. Incredibly funny and adorable at the same time. Gotta love kids! I’ll post that too once I get all the permission stuff filled out by parents.

 Photo credit: Mike Jensen

And living in a small town means that Santa can stop by the school. He arrived in a Snow Cat to our front door, and his elf let us know that the reindeer were tired and needed a bit of a break. On Wednesday morning, the day of our tea, it started to snow and snow and snow, and it didn’t actually stop or let up until Thursday night, so Santa arrived when the sky and ground was all white with big flakes of it coming down for more than a day. What a magical place this mountain town is, especially with a fresh foot-and-a-half of powder covering absolutely everything.

 

Photo Credit: Mike Jensen

It’s a good thing that I was not trying to rush down to the city for my 30^th birthday, which was on Dec. 21, because I certainly would have been snowed-in. Instead I went out ski-touring with a friend, and then went to a wonderful winter solstice party in the Yalakom. Yalakom folks are notorious around this area for living a self-sustaining, alternative lifestyle. The community was started back in the 70s by a group of like-minded folk who purchased a large piece of land and started living a sustainable, communal lifestyle there. It’s about an hour from my place towards Lillooet. I knew a couple of people there, but most faces were new and what an amazingly open and welcoming group of people! The community is now in its third generation and shows no sign of slowing down. I was warned that I just might become “absorbed”, and after spending a night with these lovely folks I can see why. There must have been over 100 people there at the party, and we had a big welcome circle to introduce ourselves and say a couple of words as we ate platefuls of the delicious potluck food guests had brought.

 Birthday at the top of Sunshine.

 Almost back at the sled, with the recently restored Sunshine cabin in the background.

There was a gigantic burning man constructed from bundles of sticks tied to a frame, and we were each asked to write something down that we would like to be rid of in our lives or in the world and to place it somewhere in the sticks before it all went up in flames. There was also a gigantic snowman and a huge bon fire around which was some drumming and guitar-playing and dancing, but most important of all to me all of the wonderful conversation about real-world and relevant issues. It was an amazing way to spend my 30^th birthday, and is perhaps an indication of my continual removal of myself from the life that was once mine in the city. I just didn’t want to rush back to go out to some restaurant somewhere, although I would have loved to transport some of my close city friends to join me. Still, though, even without them I would much rather spend the time eating locally grown food around a fire in the fresh air.

 The burning man in full flame.

Before the drive down to North Van I dealt with my wood pile, splitting some of the large rounds that have been sitting there since last winter and smashing my index finger in the process. A large bruise bubbled up immediately and I had to stop work for a while to stick it in the snow. It’s good to remember that I live quite far from medical attention here, and I much prefer a reminder of this sort than something more threatening. Oh to be a klutz in the wilds of B.C. Don’t worry, though, I will be more careful from now on.

Have been doing a little writing here and there, but not much work on “the manuscript” which is in rags of thought. I’m okay with this, though, as I keep saying. No use getting too stressed about it at this point; I already have a full-time job to stress about. I think I am realizing that I need to write my own story, the story of how I came to be where I am. I’m trying to force it into something else, to make it into a story of some other person, because I feel like this will be more interesting, but it fuzzes things in the process. A good friend once said that I should write a book about my own life first. I think it’s what Margaret Atwood did, not publishing it, before she started on her string of success. Seems like a good person to take direction from.

Have been out on some beautiful B.C. coast walks with the family in between surfing and overindulging in evening dinners out. I just love the smell of cedar mixed with the faint hint of ocean air. I do love living in the mountains, but find that I vacation near the sea to keep my outdoor exposure in balance. What a great life. Here are a few pics from the beautiful coastline.

 He-Tin-Kis Coastal Trail near Ucluelet

Out to surf again tomorrow. I’ll update you all if I get the chance, but the computer is not high in my priorities until I’m back beside the wood stove in my beautiful kitchen.

Happy Holidays all, trees and other life forms!  

Found

In the snow it lies, black in contrast to the shocking bright of sunlit white. Immediately after work today I set out to find it, knowing the dark curtain of night would fall quickly. Sanford and I retraced our steps to the abandoned mine portal held in the amphitheatre of the river canyon, placing our feet in the same line we had walked the night before with the moon lighting our way and the stars so sharp in the sky they sent shivers up my spine. A walk in the dark, headlamp in hand, which was then lost when I put my gloves in my pocket, although I only noticed this as I rounded the last corner towards home.

Home. It is very much here right now, but I am starting to think of where else I could find it. Today I was thinking that home really lives inside of me, and is something that I can therefore take with me wherever I go; wherever I head next I will take with me the same attitude of adventure and exploration until I finally have that feeling in my soul that this is the place to spread my roots for a while. And the skills I have picked up here—learning how to live on my own both personally and professionally, and how to entertain myself all by myself—are those that last for a lifetime.

I have also been thinking a lot about how we come to really find and know ourselves, as people, as friends, as lovers, as beings forever in transformation and flux. How we define who it is we are, and how so much of that comes from how other people view and react to us. And how powerful the stories of one life are. I listened to and told a lot of stories this weekend. What powerful snapshots into one’s life--for self-reflection, for connection, for learning to listen. I notice that sometimes listening can be hard for me when someone is telling a story that I can really relate to. I want to jump in with all these comments and connections, when what I should instead be doing is letting them finish first instead of taking away the power of their voice. Yes. Always learning more about myself. Always, always.

Things have been picking up a lot around town as far as creative gatherings are concerned. Went to an acoustic jam session at the pub next door. First night out in that pub, and I almost wasn’t even going to go! I can see the hotel from my kitchen, hear the horseshoes being thrown across the lawn in the summer, see the dogs "x" paths in the snowy yard on their way around town in the winter, see the lights in the curtained room windows go on and off all year long. It was wonderful to shuffle home afterwards to my warm home and bed.

On another tangent, my job is great. A one-minute walk to work in the snow, spend the morning listening to music from Egypt, looking up the unusual instruments, talking about pharos and mummies and pyramids and deserts, then making presents for family, working on the Santa’s village, opening letters from Santa, making cards to tell people that we are thankful to have them in our lives, then sledding for recess. And that was only from 8:30 am – 11! But I won’t go on and bore you. It just rocks, simple as that. I'm taking the students (I keep calling them the “kids” because in this context it starts to feel like we are somewhat of a family) out for an afternoon of cross-country skiing to finish off the holiday week, and then it’s play time, although it already feels that way in my life these days.

Listening a lot to Ben Howard over the past couple of days. Here’s a taster of one of my favourites, although they are all so great it’s hard to choose.

Lots of great people coming into my life these days. It is invigorating and fulfilling in a deep intellectual sense, something that I prize so much in my relationships with others. 

Looking forward to the solstice, my birthday, to the tea party tomorrow at the school, to bringing the community together again in the little school building. 

Thursday we are going on a cross-country ski trip all afternoon to finish off the week before break. Then up to the Sunshine cabin for dinner and a pre-solstice party. Life is certainly wonderful.

Have not been able to write as much over the past few days, but whatever, I deserve the break. It will come soon enough…

I feel found here, and it is beautiful.

Insulation

Lately I've been wrapped inside my own thoughts, spending a lot of time watching the winter roll in from my large living room windows, staring at the snow on the leafless trees, chopping wood, working on this book thing that I for some reason thought was a good idea last month. This month, not so smooth, but I keep chipping away at it each day. Some days are easier, others feel forced and wasted, but in the end I think it will all add up to something that I did that was hard and that I stuck with; even if it just sits as a typed manuscript on my hard drive, read only by me, I will know that I wrote it, and that is what matters most at this point. And for some reason I like to finish things that are hard. And long. And arduous.

Speaking of this, have also been working on my applications to grad school. Yup. Handing one in tomorrow. Perhaps I should write "I like to finish things that are hard" on the mirror in my bathroom so that I can look upon these words when I am brushing my teeth, morning and night, fighting mental exhaustion. But it does ring true for me, so here goes.

Last Friday I went for my first ski tour of the season off the Duffey Lake Road with a friend. It was amazing. So amazing that we climbed this incredible mountain, Roar, skied almost all the way back to the valley, and then climbed back up for round two. So wonderful to be out in the mountain air, amidst the clouds and fog that made its way in and out of our vision, walking up a mountain on our own steady, then shaky legs. There's just nothing else like it.

Here's the one picture of me that day before my phone ran out of battery. Notice the mountain across the valley just barely visible in the fog.

Was at a "cookie exchange" the night before with some Lillooet friends. Spent three hours baking soft ginger cookies the night before the exchange, 8 dozen of them to be exact, to hand around at the party. Got six dozen other cookie varieties in return, but learned how ill-equipped my kitchen is for baking as I lined up the ingredients on my counter the night before, even though I had three weeks to prepare. I enjoy lots of things, but baking does not seem to be one of them. Wrote a three page detailed lament of the ordeal, in between taking out and putting cookies in the oven, that I used as a creative writing exercise with my older students: how to expand an hour of your life and write it with details, details, details. In the piece I document the two trips I made to my neighbour's house, once to borrow baking powder, and again to borrow an electric mixer and a bowl big enough to house enough dough for 100 cookies, among my own mental processes. Baking is like doing surgery for me. No distractions, no music, requires FULL and COMPLETE concentration, and even then I might burn something.

Driving into Lillooet that night I immediately noticed a house completely engulfed in flames high up on the ridge across town. It happened to be the neighbouring house (in a multi-acre, rural sense) to where our cookie exchange was happening. Apparently a propane tank exploded, and the owner of the house made it out with only the clothes on her back. Amazing how quickly one's life can change. I have often thought of the freedom I would gain by having all my possessions burn. Would I choose to live how I do now, or would I take off on some crazy adventure living out of a backpack for a while? Who knows. Who ever knows until it happens, and hopefully it never comes to this for any of us.

On Sunday I went for a great cross-country ski with a colleague who was in town to visit my school for some professional collaboration on Monday morning. Yes! We are working on connecting my grade 7 student with his grade 7s. Very productive day. I also learned (finally) how to use GarageBand, a program on Mac to record and create music. The applications of this as a learning tool are infinite. Very cool. Perhaps I will finally record some of the songs I have been tinkering away on in the isolation of my living room.

We did get a little lost on our ski though, and had to walk back to the car, 45 minutes uphill. No big deal at this time in the year, with food and water in my pack, but a good reminder of how vast this area is and how easy it is to get off track. I warned him that this might happen before we set out, as I have only been to the area where we skied on my mountain bike, where the trees are alight with leaves and the long grass of the trails is worn down, but we set out with adventure in our hearts and ended the trip still smiling. Did stumble upon a cabin that was completely restored, probably originally from the 20s or 30s. It even had an old radio in it, very basic structure. Simple. Clean. Beautiful. Maybe a place to shoot a film about life in Bralorne during this time period, when it was 7,000 community members strong. I'll have to find out whose place it is first, but that shouldn't be too difficult in a town of this size.

More wood chopping tomorrow, and then skating on the pond with Shirley. And skiing of all kinds over the weekend. What a good life I have. I was thinking this as I was driving down the hill from Bralorne today after taking the students skating on the outdoor rink for Thrill Thursday. We have also been doing a lot of cross-country skiing on our field for P.E. And building an entire Santa's village, and making another movie for the holiday season.

The most recent painting, as promised. It's the largest one I have done, about 4" by 4" square. Looks pretty nice hanging on my wall, if I do say so myself. Have another larger one that I am now working on. Who knows what it will be in the end, as I certainly don't. This seems to be how I create: step out of the way and hope that something interesting presents itself. Always learning how to get out of the way, as this can be the most difficult part for me as an artist.

And hanging on the wall...

Building myself quite a little life here, but it's nice to think of the future as well and all the possibility it holds. All the hope. Well, I should start gearing my hyperactive mind towards bed. Goodnight, good morning, good whatever stage of the day this may find you in.

Planting Garlic

Really getting into movie-making lately. Here is one of the first ones that whetted my appetite, documenting a day planting garlic at a friend's farm back in late October. 

Layers

After a trip to the city it always takes a few days to recover—mentally from the massive dose of sensory stimuli, emotionally from acute exposure to the unbridled consumerism of fellow human beings, physically from the drive and from the socializing. It’s good to be back and in good health once again.

Bullet holes in an old metal pail I found at an abandoned mine site.

I returned home on Sunday to a shrunken snow pack exposing the holes of dirt on the road, to the bare tree branches hanging in a grey evening fog. I unloaded my grocery-laden car, put the woodstove alight and immediately went for a walk with Sanford, a long meandering trail pulling my footsteps easily into the thin inland woods.

The walk. Not a single car, not a single advertisement, not a single fluorescent light to send my mind abuzz with anything extra. Just me, a gigantic dog, and the slushy path before us. Home.

I take comfort in this, in the quiet of this place, in the solitude of it all. I have always enjoyed it here, but the longer I stay the easier it is becoming to be content with the silence, with cooking and eating meals on my own, with entertaining myself in my spare moments. On my own I have much to fill my time, which is a nice thing to come to know and appreciate about one's self.

Bark peeling from a tree in the fall.

I spend my mornings fighting to relight my fire while others spend time rushing to buy coffee, to beat traffic, to get to someplace far from where they live. My work is a one minute walk away and I have to actively pursue any outside distraction in my off-work hours, but that is changing as I make more and more friends up the hill in Bralorne. At times I am thankful for the hill, for the small distance that separates me from a constant social pull. Living here I have time to pursue art and writing and teaching in ways that I could never honour while my soul was caught up in the frenetic pace of city. Living in Vancouver there just wasn't time to fit it all in, nor space to spread various projects out across the floor. But it won’t always be this way, and I know this, so I welcome the time while it’s here. One day I’m sure I will share my life, my home, my bed, but until then I will write and read and paint and ski and bike my heart out with nothing to explain to anyone but my own conscience. That is truly living. For me, in this moment in my life, it doesn’t get much better. Of course it's not always this easy. Life is never great absolutely all of the time, no matter what one's geography is; however this living alone in isolation thing has helped me become much more content to let moods slide over me without judgement, because most of the time I am great, and that is enough. 

The handle of an old drawer left out to weather.

I’m off to spend some time reworking, rewording, editing, deleting. Delaminating these characters that have popped up during my month of writing. And I DID IT! Made it to 50,076 words at 5 pm on November 30^th. Still have no idea exactly where I am going or what the story is carrying within it, but I’m okay with wading through the mystery as it unravels itself before my eyes. Hoping to have a full first draft (which will still be shitty, of course, as they are) done by the end of January. May need to revise this deadline as it approaches, but I must start with some end in mind. Then I will let it rest for a couple of months, perhaps until the summer, and then we go for round two. We shall see. It's all one big unknowable adventure, just the way I like things.

Thanks for your support everyone, my mystery readers and otherwise.