studio

So said Dick Proenneke in his film series, Alone in the Wilderness (PBS). He filmed himself building a log cabin in the wilds of Alaska, from felling the trees to making his bed. In between he would roam with his cameras and film the wildlife. On rainy days he would cut and roll empty tin […]

As I’ve been writing about my father’s ranch, I also worked on a project for Tristan, whose grandparents’ had a ranch near Edmonton. This is a hide from one of the last of their herd that Tristan wanted put to some use. Working with leather appeals to the senses; it is has scent, it is

Did you know that Leonard Cohen only got 77 in Grade 9 Literature? Did you want to know that? Did L. Cohen want us to know that? Vicky and I went on an Artist’s Date to the Art Gallery of Ontario, where we took in the Leonard Cohen exhibit. How do you mount an exhibit

armed with memorable massacres I look for peace without really knowing what it looks like I dip in and out of a project on peace which I started around the 75th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Christmas seems like the only time most of us truly give some thought to peace on

Still Life with Snowball Listen to my reading my poem Advent on today’s Word on the Hills radio show… …or read it to yourself, silently. Advent The coming starts with the going of the geese in noiseless flight, solemn thoughts about the broad, black-shouldered night, and the long shadows even at noon. With a sigh

Is that what I’m doing? I’ve collected many stories from many people – about my father, about the ranch – and am puzzling about how to get at the truth when it’s different for everyone. It’s like having a pocket full of nickels. You put your hand in and they all feel the same, but

Via Train 2 between Kamloops and Jasper Blue River Dawn – a diversion When I first raised the blind in my sleeping cabin the darkness outside was complete. One and then two logging trucks slid past in the distance, like jeweled ships. Slowly the grey serpentine form of the train became discernable, meandering along the

….really slow! Two years ago I finished my altered-book-poem-setting on the Montreal Massacre after working on it off an on for eight months (almost a baby!) Two years ago was the 75th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and I started sketching ideas for an assemblage-poem-setting about Peace. Two years! It just seemed

these white butterflies how to write about them without killing them

Twenty years worth of journals are a double-edged razorblade. Looking back, some cut, some shine. Ten years ago I wrote, “Here is a blank page, waiting for whatever I turn it into. This would be a good way to expunge the “me” from my writing, as Anne Carson said on Writers and Co. She was