Here I am, back in Portland. I was just in the woods for a few days, doing a working interview at the local hot-springs resort. It’s dark in the woods, and rainy. I ate a lot of gluten-free walnut bread and in my off-time worked my way through the Little House on the Prairie box set. At this moment in time I seem to like those books more than nearly anything. The clean rhythm of the story hypnotizes me. Pa is always going to town, the sky is always darkening with grasshoppers or prairie fire or blizzards, and everything is always going wrong. But then no-one is hurt, only a little soot covered, and “all’s well that ends well.” Pa plays his fiddle and Ma is gentle and reasonable. There might be a bolt of calico, if the wheat crop does well. The sun is always shining.
Right now I’m tired. C and I just spent a long time at the store buying food for the month in Idaho at the residency, and it made me feel a bit like I was setting out on a covered wagon trip. We leave early in the morning, to drive ten hours north then south then north again, around big forests where no roads go through, to the place where our rooms are, bare and warm and waiting, without a thing in them to pull us away from our art. I cannot wait. I cannot wait!
I’m going to Idaho! I’ve raised nearly $200 for my trip, and it’s awesome. Thanks to everyone who donated. This opportunity is not one that comes along often, or really at all. I can’t wait to see what comes out of it. Me and my brain, alone in rural Idaho. An unformed mass of time. Clear cold sunlight. Many pounds of black beans. I can’t wait!
I’ll tell you all about it, dear reader. Thanks for your support in my endeavors!