Great poem. Years back, I worked on a screenplay adaptation of Young Men and Fire for Warner Brothers. Hung out with Missoula smoke jumpers for a couple days (at headquarters not in the woods!).
Jealous :). Tell her that I wish she and Lucy and Richard would get back together for another collaboration. Nothing like it. They're all great on their own, too, but those harmonies... "Speaking with the Angel" was on the birth playlist for all three of my kids.
Beautiful wild land images, Josh! I love the contrast between the precarious, wavering helicopter, seeming too lightweight for the forces of air drafts and rock and dangerous power lines, and you grounded with the burned cedar and the known work of sawing and heaving wood “For now.” The poem is full of uncertainty, but there is presence in the work of “now.”
I appreciate the many paths you allow for yourself on Substack. I wonder when I try new things here whether I am sacrificing coherence or burdening my site with too much complexity, but I remember that I’m here to venture new things. Still, it’s hard to shake the academic sense that all details “relate” tidily, or the commercial drive to “brand.” Your work is always thought-provoking and satisfying!
Thank you, Tara! I resist the idea of branding, as you know. It's a good way to make money, I guess, but it doesn't feel like a good way to live.
Yes, I like that idea of the "now." Often it's the only thing we can control, and there's some peace in letting the past and future go. I've been attending a Quaker meeting (I'll write about this Tuesday), and that's very much the idea of sharing silence together.
I am finally catching up on things... so here I am. I just listened to the Sarah Fay interview with Sophia UPS-confirmation-number-for-a-last-name, and now I know what everyone was talking about. The beauty of Substack is being able to write what you want to write and not worry so much about the subject. What ends up happening on Substack, from what I can tell, is that people just want to read good writing. Anything is interesting if you are good at writing about it. It is like how a great interviewer can pick out any ordinary Joe off the street and ask a bunch of questions and it will make for awesome radio or podcasting. The art is in the telling, in the image captured, the music created. It seems to be a bonus if we learn something (I am quite possibly only speaking for myself). And that seems to be the case for my readers. I don't know what I will write about any given week. I have no expertise in anything other than living my own life. And yet, I have people who read me. That is the glory of Substack. I didn't know I could write such things until I tried.
And RE: The Helicopter Pilot
I love that the poem shifts in time from moment to memory to possibility. The shape of the stanzas adds to the non-fiction feeling of what is being conveyed.
Thanks, Zina! There is a playbook for growth on Substack, which is why Sarah is able to charge what she does for meetings. But it relies on communicating clear value adds for readers, which I'm not sure is easy to do for the kinds of things you and I write.
Great poem. Years back, I worked on a screenplay adaptation of Young Men and Fire for Warner Brothers. Hung out with Missoula smoke jumpers for a couple days (at headquarters not in the woods!).
Many thanks! Smokejumpers are an interesting subculture. I never quite understood the allure of parachuting into the timber -- a lot can go wrong!
Perhaps you've heard "Cold Missouri Waters," the best smokejumper song ever written (not that there are many): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KgQNeGPJdcQ
Cry Cry Cry! Dar Williams is a friend!
Jealous :). Tell her that I wish she and Lucy and Richard would get back together for another collaboration. Nothing like it. They're all great on their own, too, but those harmonies... "Speaking with the Angel" was on the birth playlist for all three of my kids.
Beautiful wild land images, Josh! I love the contrast between the precarious, wavering helicopter, seeming too lightweight for the forces of air drafts and rock and dangerous power lines, and you grounded with the burned cedar and the known work of sawing and heaving wood “For now.” The poem is full of uncertainty, but there is presence in the work of “now.”
I appreciate the many paths you allow for yourself on Substack. I wonder when I try new things here whether I am sacrificing coherence or burdening my site with too much complexity, but I remember that I’m here to venture new things. Still, it’s hard to shake the academic sense that all details “relate” tidily, or the commercial drive to “brand.” Your work is always thought-provoking and satisfying!
Thank you, Tara! I resist the idea of branding, as you know. It's a good way to make money, I guess, but it doesn't feel like a good way to live.
Yes, I like that idea of the "now." Often it's the only thing we can control, and there's some peace in letting the past and future go. I've been attending a Quaker meeting (I'll write about this Tuesday), and that's very much the idea of sharing silence together.
I am finally catching up on things... so here I am. I just listened to the Sarah Fay interview with Sophia UPS-confirmation-number-for-a-last-name, and now I know what everyone was talking about. The beauty of Substack is being able to write what you want to write and not worry so much about the subject. What ends up happening on Substack, from what I can tell, is that people just want to read good writing. Anything is interesting if you are good at writing about it. It is like how a great interviewer can pick out any ordinary Joe off the street and ask a bunch of questions and it will make for awesome radio or podcasting. The art is in the telling, in the image captured, the music created. It seems to be a bonus if we learn something (I am quite possibly only speaking for myself). And that seems to be the case for my readers. I don't know what I will write about any given week. I have no expertise in anything other than living my own life. And yet, I have people who read me. That is the glory of Substack. I didn't know I could write such things until I tried.
And RE: The Helicopter Pilot
I love that the poem shifts in time from moment to memory to possibility. The shape of the stanzas adds to the non-fiction feeling of what is being conveyed.
Thanks, Zina! There is a playbook for growth on Substack, which is why Sarah is able to charge what she does for meetings. But it relies on communicating clear value adds for readers, which I'm not sure is easy to do for the kinds of things you and I write.