"Where have you felt most at home? Describe that place. What does the place feel like? What sounds are present? What can you smell? Are you alone or with others? Where is home, for you?"
An irresistible set of questions, especially for someone who grew up with powerful roots in a place, but equally powerful alienation from the conservative religious atmosphere of my home and family sphere. So it's not my parents' house where I feel most at home. But it is, without doubt, the Pacific Northwest, and particularly those corners in northwestern Montana and northern Idaho that I came to know intimately as a young man working with the Forest Service. The Yaak Valley. The Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness. The Moose Creek Ranger Station above the Selway River, for which my son is named.
I'm writing about one of those places on Tuesday -- but even outdoor spaces can be hard to go home to later in life.
I think part of this is that as "at home" as I have felt in these places, I have never shared them with anyone who could see them as I did. Except for my friend Connie Saylor Johnson, who disappeared into the Selway some years ago now for reasons no one knows. But I think she felt she was going home.
What an incredible woman. Thanks for considering these questions. I've been in some sublime wilderness areas, usually with a guide, and there is something sacred about how elemental and stripped bare you feel in such places. It's a relief to ground in a real place, not relaxing but heightening in a way that no other place can be. (Except maybe a dark, quiet city street, walking alone at night. . . )
Clothing writ large! That instantly made me relate to my house differently. I was thinking just the other day that I feel most the sense ‘I’m home’ when I walk into our garden, more so than when I walk into our house, but I’m feeling into the idea of them really being one and the same.
My mind is rattled by the figures around homelessness. Over the years, during conversations about homelessness both participated in and overheard, I’ve lost a lot of faith in humanity.
I love seeing what lands for you, Chloe. I still daydream about designing a house that functions like clothing. One of my very favorite architects said that living in one of his houses was like sailing a yacht. I get it. And, yes, homelessness is entirely unnecessary. And cruel. And heartless. It stuns me to think I live in the same world. How is that possible.
I hear you on the grub front, but I wonder if it’s the kind of thing you’d get used to surprisingly quickly. I could also just bring a few juvenile birds home and let them do their thing..!
Perfect. I'll start tree hunting today. Sadly, a big beautiful one is being chopped with chainsaws and chipped in a giant shredder next door as I write. The smells of chain oil, exhaust, lignen, cellulose, leaves, and oh-so-recent LIFE surround me at my desk. My husband assured me he noticed dead limbs but all I saw on the street was fully leafed-out branches and it hurt my heart. It's hard to be in the world sometimes.
Oof ❤️🩹 feeling all of that very deeply. The sound of chainsaws are so jarring. There was a host of trees near us which were cut down even though they had tree protection orders on them. I’ve been hassling the council about it for months, and they just seem so unfussed. The way we seem to forget that trees are living, breathing beings will forever be a weight, I think.
Such a fascinating post, Julie! I give a lot of thought to home spaces, both real and fictional. I don’t think I’m up to making my own 😅 Are you familiar with Hundertwasser? His architecture attempts to bring the natural to the domestic (among other things).
Yes, I love how absolutely nutty Hundertwasser is! My parents brought me a framed photo of his most famous apartment building in Vienna for my office, so when I went there myself, of course we went by to see it. There also was an extensive exhibit on his work (a retrospective, maybe? or is there a whole museum?) that we enjoyed. He did a proposal for a whole town of adorable earth-sheltered houses -- looked exactly like Hobbiton. I always wondered whether Peter Jackson's set designers knew about that when they worked on the LOTR films.
What a beautiful contemplation on what it means to be home Julie, thank you. I didn't have the opportunity to do the writing exercise yet but I appreciate the prompts. Simply reading through them made me consider what home really means to me.
I'm so glad to have discovered your writing. This is a favorite passage of mine. I think his treatise on the bean field is his best. From 1997-2009 I lived off the grid in a 10 X 20 cabin made of rough cut lumber with Sam Warren (1951-2009) and sold produce to Moosewood, Ithaca and Trumansburg farmer's markets. The farm name: On Warren Pond. Still live a simple life inspired by Thoreau (among others).
Another grand post that I'll soon look at more closely. I'm writing this note because I have question about your question on "point of view" for This Writing Life" and need you to check your email, please. xo ~ Mary
"Where have you felt most at home? Describe that place. What does the place feel like? What sounds are present? What can you smell? Are you alone or with others? Where is home, for you?"
An irresistible set of questions, especially for someone who grew up with powerful roots in a place, but equally powerful alienation from the conservative religious atmosphere of my home and family sphere. So it's not my parents' house where I feel most at home. But it is, without doubt, the Pacific Northwest, and particularly those corners in northwestern Montana and northern Idaho that I came to know intimately as a young man working with the Forest Service. The Yaak Valley. The Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness. The Moose Creek Ranger Station above the Selway River, for which my son is named.
I'm writing about one of those places on Tuesday -- but even outdoor spaces can be hard to go home to later in life.
I think part of this is that as "at home" as I have felt in these places, I have never shared them with anyone who could see them as I did. Except for my friend Connie Saylor Johnson, who disappeared into the Selway some years ago now for reasons no one knows. But I think she felt she was going home.
https://www.selwaybitterroot.org/csj
What an incredible woman. Thanks for considering these questions. I've been in some sublime wilderness areas, usually with a guide, and there is something sacred about how elemental and stripped bare you feel in such places. It's a relief to ground in a real place, not relaxing but heightening in a way that no other place can be. (Except maybe a dark, quiet city street, walking alone at night. . . )
I'll look forward to your post Tuesday.
Clothing writ large! That instantly made me relate to my house differently. I was thinking just the other day that I feel most the sense ‘I’m home’ when I walk into our garden, more so than when I walk into our house, but I’m feeling into the idea of them really being one and the same.
My mind is rattled by the figures around homelessness. Over the years, during conversations about homelessness both participated in and overheard, I’ve lost a lot of faith in humanity.
Btw, I would also like to live in a tree.
I love seeing what lands for you, Chloe. I still daydream about designing a house that functions like clothing. One of my very favorite architects said that living in one of his houses was like sailing a yacht. I get it. And, yes, homelessness is entirely unnecessary. And cruel. And heartless. It stuns me to think I live in the same world. How is that possible.
Yes, to tree-living. Maybe without the grubs? Though I imagine they might feel the same about me.
I hear you on the grub front, but I wonder if it’s the kind of thing you’d get used to surprisingly quickly. I could also just bring a few juvenile birds home and let them do their thing..!
Perfect. I'll start tree hunting today. Sadly, a big beautiful one is being chopped with chainsaws and chipped in a giant shredder next door as I write. The smells of chain oil, exhaust, lignen, cellulose, leaves, and oh-so-recent LIFE surround me at my desk. My husband assured me he noticed dead limbs but all I saw on the street was fully leafed-out branches and it hurt my heart. It's hard to be in the world sometimes.
Oof ❤️🩹 feeling all of that very deeply. The sound of chainsaws are so jarring. There was a host of trees near us which were cut down even though they had tree protection orders on them. I’ve been hassling the council about it for months, and they just seem so unfussed. The way we seem to forget that trees are living, breathing beings will forever be a weight, I think.
It's on us. And yet they don't seem to hold it against us, which always blows my mind.
Such a fascinating post, Julie! I give a lot of thought to home spaces, both real and fictional. I don’t think I’m up to making my own 😅 Are you familiar with Hundertwasser? His architecture attempts to bring the natural to the domestic (among other things).
Yes, I love how absolutely nutty Hundertwasser is! My parents brought me a framed photo of his most famous apartment building in Vienna for my office, so when I went there myself, of course we went by to see it. There also was an extensive exhibit on his work (a retrospective, maybe? or is there a whole museum?) that we enjoyed. He did a proposal for a whole town of adorable earth-sheltered houses -- looked exactly like Hobbiton. I always wondered whether Peter Jackson's set designers knew about that when they worked on the LOTR films.
What a beautiful contemplation on what it means to be home Julie, thank you. I didn't have the opportunity to do the writing exercise yet but I appreciate the prompts. Simply reading through them made me consider what home really means to me.
Thanks for joining in here. I haven’t done it yet, either. Hoping to try it tomorrow morning.
I'm so glad to have discovered your writing. This is a favorite passage of mine. I think his treatise on the bean field is his best. From 1997-2009 I lived off the grid in a 10 X 20 cabin made of rough cut lumber with Sam Warren (1951-2009) and sold produce to Moosewood, Ithaca and Trumansburg farmer's markets. The farm name: On Warren Pond. Still live a simple life inspired by Thoreau (among others).
Another grand post that I'll soon look at more closely. I'm writing this note because I have question about your question on "point of view" for This Writing Life" and need you to check your email, please. xo ~ Mary
Yeah, I’ve heard of that too. It’s despicable.