The Life and Times of the Plume — Page 97

February 11, 2015 by The Noisy Plume

Do not dwell on the shots you missed, do not fret about the shots to come. Work hard, have faith in your dog and cross the creeks as they come to you.

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I’m already missing those foggy, muddy days out on the land, chasing tailfeathers with my favorite men. I keep putting my nose into the wind when we go out hiking and running here, but it’s not the same. Everything feels edged with tameness, gently corralled by barbed wire and fenceposts. Even though I turn my back to it, I am aware of town, stretched out thin and humming in the valley below. I need a bigger horizon. I need more space. I need longer sunsets. I need the stars for a blanket. I need to feel the cold again, eating at the sparking and electric ends of my spirit, causing me to quicken my pace in a quest for heat.

Sometimes I think I know exactly how the mustangs feel, or the wolf that has been made a pet, or the falcon that is only set free to hunt.

I fret I won’t ever find a way to balance who I really am with basic, human civilities. But I think we all struggle with this, to a certain degree. Even the cities are wild jungles, in their own way, demanding a certain set of survival skills.

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2015/02/11/9902/

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: i already miss him, idaho, thinking aloud, upland hunting

What To Spin

February 9, 2015 by The Noisy Plume

I’ve been quasi-converted to vinyl. Well, rather, I grew up listening to records but have come back to them because they sound so crispy and crackly and good — like coconut shrimp with a high fidelity dipping sauce.

Here’s the thing. There are people who are committed to vinyl who spend vast amounts of time and small fortunes on collecting specific records for their collection. That’s all fine and dandy, I think it’s great to get behind your passions in life, but I want to tell you about my approach to vinyl because it can be a cheap musical education, if you want it to be.

My records come from the thrift shop, for the most part. I swing by the Goodwill and comb through the record shelf and I choose a little bit of everything. I reckon, for a dollar a piece, there’s no way to lose! I buy records if they have fabulous or weird cover art. I have a penchant for classical recordings — specifically Chopin, Bach, Dvorak and Debussy for the piano. I will also select symphonic works by the same composers and am very open to masterpieces by Beethoven, Mozart and Brahms. If I find Mariachi, I add it to the pile. If I find bluegrass, I squeal a little. Waylon, Willie and Dolly are always pure gold (their voices lend themselves beautifully to vinyl). There is never rock and roll at the thrift shop, probably because it’s the best thing ever so no one gets rid of it. One of the greatest treats of all is big band music. I like a smattering of musical scores and am currently obsessed with opera recordings (especially in the early morning).

You see, when I tell you I am genuinely eclectic, I truly mean it. And don’t get me wrong, if there’s something I really want on vinyl, I’ll sometimes allow myself a $20 record. I recently bought a Niki Lane album on vinyl and it’s tremendous!

I’ve always said that if you refuse to listen to a bit of everything, you rob yourself of the full wingspan of the musical experience. True diversity is excellent for the soul and makes for a well rounded individual — being open to every kind of music is another way of brushing up against the width of humanity. That said, there are some things I hear that I genuinely do not like, but I’m never afraid to give the unknown a try.

I should add to all of this that while I was in the depths of piano study, when my very pulse sounded like ascending and descending arpeggios, I was spending my weekends at the punk rock shows in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan and crunching through my calculus homework to Lauryn Hill. I like what I like. Unabashedly.

The best thing about buying thrift shop records is that if you find something truly fouls the ear, if you find it earnestly repulsive, you can throw it in a box with the tank tops from last summer and dump it right back at the thrift shop where you found it — someone else will eventually give that record a chance on the cheap.

There you have it. Spin away, sweet souls!

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: music, vinyl

January 27, 2015 by The Noisy Plume

I’ve been driven to the light lately. You can find me winding my way up the East bench in the evenings; to get closer to the sky, to catch some of that gold for myself, to see the West bench rise foot by foot to unabashedly meet my gaze. I see the way the sun stumbles towards the distant sea, magnanimously, giving up the sky to the silence of the moon and stars. I see the way the last ribbons of day stream down through the softness of the Portneuf Valley peaks — tributaries of a greater whole. I see these things and I wonder why can’t we all move through life as directly and flawlessly as light.

Golden hour is romantic. I am in danger of forgetting the nature of light which is as two sided as any human. It is gentle now, here under the nearing of night, beneath the weak sky of winter, but I have felt it burn. I have seen it crack stone in two. Is there anything, here on Earth, that is pure, unerring strength? Is there anything free of the blessing and curse of power and weakness? Must we all be such a wild blend?

In the evening light, there is the precious moment when the sagebrush and bunch grasses are set afire, gently at first, more raucous by the moment, until all things are stained by day, light bearing, gleaming, luminous with the sacraments of dust and crumbling starlight.

If this ancient light is this bright, how much brighter is new light? How could anyone stand to look into the childish face of a star?

I open my vest, unbutton the top of my cardigan and denim shirt; I expose the pale place in the center of my chest that ripples with sinew and bone when I make my arms into wings. I stand like that, with my face skyward, and I feel the light move in chattering runnels into the center of me, the most awake part of me. I stand like that, with the wind in my face, with the final warmth of day pooling like a trustworthy foundation at my feet, purring like a cat. I stand like that until my fingers turn cold, the sun flares, the light twitches, fades, crumples and the day plunges away.

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2015/01/27/9875/

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: idaho, light, rambling

January 15, 2015 by The Noisy Plume

The rutted ice sank beneath a skiff of fresh powder and we began to swoop our way upward, faster, into the thick timber, into the temple of trees; the temple turned to lace and the lace turned to sky and we fell into a rhythm of quietude and the washing over of grace, which is painful and sublime, like waves softening stone.

Oh my soul.

https://www.thenoisyplume.com/blog/2015/01/15/9527/

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: hearing, idaho, making myself malleable

Ten Things

January 13, 2015 by The Noisy Plume

1. Robert and I finally saw the third and final installment of The Hobbit. I like the story of The Hobbit, very much, but what really gets me, while watching Peter Jackson’s cinematic manifestation of the story, is the creative genius behind the little details. I lose all control of myself while watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy and the Hobbit films — they’re just so thrilling for me. I scream aloud, cry, waggle my arms, mention every detail I find transfixing to poor Robert where he sits beside me. You should have heard me whisper shriek in the theater about the war stag, the war pig and the war bighorn sheep two weeks ago. I mean really, it’s all too much for me. Now that the final Hobbit film has been thoroughly enjoyed I can’t help but feel that there’s nothing left to cinematically anticipate for the rest of eternity.

2. If people quit assuming things about each other about 99% of the hate in the world would be dissolved. The key to not living by assumption is to simply have the courage to ask about the truth of the matter — you aren’t always going to get an answer you like but that’s life! Don’t assume. Assumption is a kind of cowardice. Find out the truth. Be courageous. Ask. The truth is for seekers. The truth is for people who want to change, learn and grow — independently and corporately within their relationships.

3. Bone broth? Heck yes! I drink a pint of the stuff, hot, every morning before breakfast and generally brew 2-3 batches a week. I use this recipe, roughly, for beef, chicken, upland game and antelope bone broth.

4. A favorite account of mine — it’s beautiful, hilarious, annoying, shocking, terrible and wonderful. Basically, it’s a close-up, raw glimpse at snapshots of humanity. I look at and read the posts and feel like I’ve been brushing up against a random batch of people and even though we look different and live in different places and have different jobs we’re all loved, hated, healing and hurt in fundamentally similar ways. For me, it brings to the forefront what it is to be human and I find myself focusing on the idea of commonality, unity, on the shared reality of the human condition.

5. We LIKE. So much. Phryne herself is a downright sassafras, I love her mind, but what I adore more than anything about this program is the costuming — Phryne is always dressed to slay and best of all, she carries a tiny gold pistol in her purse. Get yourself hooked, and quick.

6. I know there are a handful of rugged, outdoor loving ladies reading this blog so I feel it’s my duty to inform you of these new slim fit double front dungarees for girls. These are affordable-long-lasting-not-ugly-pants that fit nicely around curvy lady bums, hips and thighs of which I sadly have none, BUT most of my sporty girlfriends have curves and these pants look gorgeous on them. Regardless, I’m delighted with my pair and have yet to develop holes in the knees.

7. You can find me smattered throughout issue 2. Also, there is a really nice interview write up about my Instagram account that can be read and enjoyed over here (thanks for the wonderful writing, Hilary). Lastly, an essay of mine is featured here this winter — but flip through the whole magazine if you can. It’s such a great collection of images and writing!

8. We’re in the midst of an official website overhaul here and can’t wait to get this space freshened up and spruced up for you. Work has really shot off in a handful of new directions for me in the past couple of years and we think it’s best this space begins to represent that fact in a more obvious way. Buckle up! We’ll be so excited when it comes time for the official unveiling!

9. The Washington forest district Robert works for as a smokejumper FINALLY did some hiring and Robert was given a permanent position at the North Cascades base in November — he’s been a seasonal employee for about 8 years now, hired in the spring and laid off in the fall. He hasn’t had permanent status with the federal government since he was a fish biologist for US Fish and Wildlife when we lived in Arizona. This means a lot of things for us, but most importantly we’ll be delighted to not pay for private health insurance out of pocket as we have been for the past eight years, we’ll be able to pay into a retirement fund again and Robert is guaranteed at least six months of work a year. I’m proud of him. He deserves this position (not more than anyone else, but in and of himself) and he continues to be the very best man I know — honest, fair, hardworking and a true friend to all.

This is one of the main reasons we are preparing to put our Idaho farmhouse on the market in the early summer. Life is calling. Changes are coming. Quite slowly, the murk of the coming year is clearing and we are beginning to have a sense of direction which is nice. People keep asking me where we are going to live and what we plan to live in. We don’t really know and we don’t really care. We’ll make it work, like we always do. We’re like merry flotsam in a patch of choppy, icy sea.

10. I have been on the road, away from the studio, for nearly two full months. I have really missed my studio. I have really missed you.

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