Tag Archives: Climbing

Field notes from the Pacific coast | the lover before your last lover

Posted on June 5, 2017 by

This is a series of posts I started in late May and plan to continue for 40 days, with a goal of hitting 50,000 words by July 5. It’s inspired by a three-day solo trek on the Washington coast, with … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

‘Like frogs or rabbits’ | on living in the present, and wandering

Posted on May 16, 2017 by

May 15, 2017 Faint rain, imagined snow. Mid May and it’s still stew weather, heavy stouts. I have to run the heat in the morning driving in to work but refuse to wear a jacket and then turn off the … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 30 Comments

First there is a mountain then there is no mountain, then there is

Posted on May 1, 2017 by

There was the outfit I’d worn the day before and probably the day before that, in a pile on the floor by the bed. I sat up and got into it like I was going in reverse, stood up, slapped … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments

Meditation on a nameless day

Posted on December 29, 2016 by

Climbing mountains you get high enough you can see above the cloud deck, the tips of the other peaks coming through, how the clouds look like soup from above, and in every direction just the land stretching out, no cities—like … Continue reading →

Posted in prose | Tagged , , , , , , | 15 Comments

Lost in the Funhouse with Barth: on meta, Brecht, and what’s behind The Fourth Wall

Posted on June 10, 2016 by

With social media and technology what they are, metafiction has become more a part of our lives than ever: we’re constantly stepping outside the frame to capture ourselves in it, and our story of documenting our life story is as much a story as the story itself. But as we step outside the frame, we’re straddling two worlds and cease to exist fully in either — like tourists on an Alaskan whale-watching cruise with our cameras out trying to catch the breaching whales as proof we were there, we miss the reality just beyond our lens and I wonder, did we really see anything at all? Continue reading →

Posted in musings, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Peeing on Switzerland

Posted on August 18, 2015 by

Ralf pokes the scat with the tip of his trekking pole and says in English it’s fresh, from earlier today. And the wind changes direction, it’s coming from Switzerland now, and I don’t know if that’s good or bad but … Continue reading →

Posted in travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 26 Comments

Say goodbye to the Hoh

Posted on July 15, 2015 by

The sea spills its guts out to anyone who will listen, just hurls itself up and forgets it’s told the same story before: two black heads in the water floating that could be humans staring at us but they are seals, … Continue reading →

Posted in travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments