Geography of the James (Earth Lodge)

“Then one day I was walking along Tinker creek and thinking of nothing at all and I saw the tree with the lights in it. I saw the backyard cedar where the mourning doves roost charged and transfigured, each cell buzzing with flame. I stood on the grass with the lights in it, grass that was wholly fire, utterly focused and utterly dreamed. It was less like seeing that like being for the first time see, knocked breathless by a powerful glance. The flood of fire abated, but I’m still spending the power” – Annie Dillard

I took this picture while we were walking through Congaree National Park in South Carolina. I remember the forest was getting dark and the sparse floor, pierced by sharp Cypress roots, began to echo with the sounds of distant boars and owls. Professor Klinker read a passage from the guide, comparing the Gothic wooden spires and the glowing Spanish moss to a fluid stone cave a mile below the surface. I remembered going caving my freshman year; the perfect darkness fought off with headlamps, the suffocating silence broken by our childish yells. Something about such an environment filled me with solemnity. The tree above felt like seeing sunlight below ground, an unreal speck poking through a crack far overhead. The illuminated tree dazzled me, and the undiffused sky and back-lit branches became indistinguishable. I felt the light reflecting off damp leaves into my eyes and the spectacle of nature slid into abstraction. I instantly thought of Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and understood the seeing Dillard was writing about.

While unpacking from the holidays, I re-stumbled upon the collection of coins that have accumulated as result of the annual gift my uncle insists on giving. Every year, he gives my brother, sister, and me the current year’s U.S. mint series of quarters/ assortment of coins. After this discovery, a couple of days had passed and I began scanning the books we read for Earth Lodge for quotes that we chatted about during our Sunday meetings. After reading the quote written on the picture and taking a 20 minute brainstorming nap, a connection formed between the pile of cased quarters and Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. The image of these quarters, all in mint condition, started tiptoeing around my head. In their case, these coins are often bought and sold for considerable amounts more than their monetary worth, but once they’re removed, they are held in the same regards as… well, any other quarter. For many coin collectors, great excitement comes with obtaining these coins after their release. I began to realize that over the years, I have instilled an inherent heightened value to these coin sets. Part of me thinks that it’s simply because I’ve carried them around for so long and they’ve, in a strange way, been with me through many chapters of my life. However, after seeing the memories that I have shared with these quarters, I realized that I could very well crack open the cases and be exactly as excited about them as I was before. I could go to the store and spend them all on something trivial, and for the rest of my life, I would be excited by the mere thought of obtaining coins for the sliver of chance that one of those that saw me through my childhood may return.

Too literal of an interpretation? Possibly. But in the same way as being excited by the coins’ return, sharing the things you love and seeing the small beauties in life, even if at first, you must search deeply and almost trick yourself, is a way to cultivate that healthy poverty that Annie Dillard speaks of.

Of all the books we read Twelve By Twelve: A One-Room Cabin Off the Grid & Beyond The American Dream by William Powers was by far my favorite. One of the themes of the book that struck me most was Powers’ struggle between doing and being. After years of working in international development aid (which he reflected about greatly in the book) he was struggling to see the good he was doing by living in the 12×12 cabin and simply “being.” He reflected on Ghandi’s famous quote “Be the change you wish to see in the world,” and began to realize that being the way you wish the world to be is an important step in changing it. Not just to change it but to also fully understand it. He was looking at the micro level of his small patch of land in North Carolina, but he was also striving to see the macro effects that affect the global community. This theme reminded me of a quote my economics professor used this semester that I really enjoyed “I want you to see the forest and the trees,” instead of just seeing the forest through the trees as the average saying goes.

So here is the watercolor drawing I made to represent this quote and theme.

In Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard talks a lot about seeing.  She explains how in order to truly see something, she must first bring attention to it.  Seeing is not just about the eyes and what happens before them, but the mental awareness that the observer has.  Dillard defines two types of seeing: the first kind requires one to “analyze and pry” while the second kind involves “a letting go.”  She compares these two types of seeing to “walking  with and without a camera.”

My drawing demonstrates these two types of seeing.  When we went to Congaree National Park, I remember my eyes wandering through the woods when suddenly…I saw a GIANT OWL!  I was very exciting and proud.  I felt as though the owl was mine because I discovered it.  So in the drawing, I am the curious and camera-less observer striking a sassy pose with my arms akimbo.

The camera-bearing observer is Kenta.  I feel like Kenta is the kind of person who walks around with his camera trying to find something visually appealing that would make a good photographic composition (Yes, I am obsessed with Kenta; however, this part of Pilgrim was relevant and reminded me of him).  While Kenta carefully seeks out an image, I just try to see as much as I can and try to think about the meaning of it all.

After claiming bragging rights for spotting the mystic owl, I thought about its meaning in nature.  I thought about how owls are always in isolation, how they’re so different from other birds, and that they are nocturnal.  I thought “How different is this creature from us?  It lives alone, sleeps all day, and always looks angry.  Maybe owls aren’t that different from some of us.”  I really wanted it to spin its head all the way around, but that was just wishful thinking.

-Grace Gibson

I visited Pony Pastures at the James River over break and got inspired to draw an abstract picture of the view. As I was drawing, I thought about how little I know the river although I have lived in Richmond most of my life.  I’m really excited to get to know the river even better as we go through our Earth Lodge class this semester.

Whenever I see a picture of Everest I’m always amazed with how stunning it is, so i decided to try to capture that in my own drawing of the mountain….. unfortunately I’m not the greatest artist so despite my numerous tries this drawing doesn’t quite do the peak much justice.  To make up for my lack of artistic skills I also included two haikus about Everest in my picture. 🙂

In the spirit of seeing with new eyes (and of seeing not the tree but the insects filling the air between the tree and I) I’ve made blackout poems out of some pages from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (Ch. 2, Seeing, which is my favorite). It’s a place I never tire of revisiting. Sorry they are sideways, friends.

Picture taken at Table Rock Mountain

One of the first things we ever did in Earthlodge was to go on a fieldtrip. It wasn’t much just a trip from Lakeview to the Gazebo. The interesting part was we were silent and quiet. We did our best to not make sound but also to quiet ourselves and slow ourselves down. It was amazing how much different everything looked, when you really spent the time and effort to look at it.

Lately I’ve been into Photoshop, photo-editing and drawing. It is always amazing how at first an image looks flat, then with more time and effort the image begins to come off the page, then after even more work it bursts into life.I realized that in a way it was similar to what we did. Taking time to bring forth what was there just hard to see.

I tried to show rather than explain in the photo I edited. From left to right the picture shows the steps involved in bringing out the most in the picture. It takes time, and effort, and several tries, but once its done you really see everything it has to offer. So quiet yourself and take the time to see something  fully.

My uncle came to visit for a few days over break and one night after everyone else had gone to bed, we got to talking. Given my constant worries about what the heck I am going to do with my life, I of course made him tell me his life story and how he got be where he is today (he is an actor in L.A.). I learned some very interesting stories: from the fact that he joined an ashram when he was 19 to the fact that he earned a business degree  (this one surprised me the most). Anyways, it basically showed me that things may not always turn out the way I expect them to and that I should focus more on things I enjoy and hopefully something good will come out of it. That’s where the painting comes in. During my long talk with Uncle Marc, he was asking me if I still was really into art. As a kid, I was always doing something creative – painting, sewing, drawing (especially on my walls…oops), putting together really weird outfits, making up stories about my beanie babies (I was a cool kid), etc. Although my creative endeavors very rarely turned out to be masterpieces, it never really seemed to matter to me because I loved doing them anyways. I’ve recently started to realize that lately I haven’t really focused on my creative side as much as I would have liked, so this assignment inspired me to revisit that part of myself. Here’s the painting I did (like my childhood projects, not a masterpiece, but I enjoyed doing it) – some of the quotes are one’s that I really liked from the books we read.