So here I am the first commenter (or maybe not anymore as it’s taking me awhile to write this) on this amazing ramble and I can’t not comment. Here’s what I was thinking as I read this with glee- OMG I wish the old Mountain Gazette (circa editor M. John Fayhee) was still in existence. Your pieces are such a fit for that generation of that magazine’s vibe and attitude, which I miss desperately at times. Humor, satire, generally strong writing, writers and artists pushing buttons and boundaries. I hope you had a chance to read an issue or two and I hope you enjoyed them. Your writing is so crafted / ‘not crafted’ and so ‘muscular’ as my writer husband/rafting partner would put it. Such a ride, and this piece no exception.
I did read the old MG from time to time (seem to think I picked it up at Maria's books in Durango?) and I take this as a blush-worthy compliment, Laura. I think that vibe/voice (I miss it too) is why I keep rotating back to writers "I used to read." Thanks so much for being here!
Glad you took it as a compliment! It most definitely was meant to be. I also wanted to let you know that your booklist from a week or so past led me to revisit one of those voices/vibes - Ellen Meloy. I’m rereading Eating Stone, thanks to you and all the big horn sheep we saw on the Grande Ronde in early May!
Happy to hear this! and how wonderful you saw them. I am ashamed how I took bighorn sheep for granted in the canyon, "oh, look, rams in rut" as if was an everyday, commonplace thing to see them. Even on our drives to OR from Idaho there used to be (10 years ago) a narrow stretch on I-84 just entering the gorge where we'd see them, perched on the basalt. And don't get me started on desert tortoises :) actually, please do.
An amazing piece of writing! I read it over three times to get the full spirit, and think I got it. In particular, though this is only a small part of the piece, I loved the use of "scree", a word I have used a lot, and whose essence I understand, having skated down many a scree slope. Talus, scree, and all the rest, this is a lovely essay, and you are a talented writer.
“The sun is slow suffocation disguised as a spent lover falling asleep on top of you, their heartbeat thumping your chest to remind you that too much of a good thing can crush the last pocket of room to breathe.” It can be!!
What a post! What a powerful and perfect ending. I started to think what this would sound like as a eulogy delivered for a departed friend and it made me so sad and happy at the same time. Perfect.
I’m so happy it spoke to you, Michael. I wondered later if my use of the word “dharma” made sense in this context: as an “I really have no clue what I’m doing here, but here I am” flawed human, not seeking “perfection,” but reveling in the wake up calls.
So here I am the first commenter (or maybe not anymore as it’s taking me awhile to write this) on this amazing ramble and I can’t not comment. Here’s what I was thinking as I read this with glee- OMG I wish the old Mountain Gazette (circa editor M. John Fayhee) was still in existence. Your pieces are such a fit for that generation of that magazine’s vibe and attitude, which I miss desperately at times. Humor, satire, generally strong writing, writers and artists pushing buttons and boundaries. I hope you had a chance to read an issue or two and I hope you enjoyed them. Your writing is so crafted / ‘not crafted’ and so ‘muscular’ as my writer husband/rafting partner would put it. Such a ride, and this piece no exception.
Anyway, thanks! Always a delight to read.
I did read the old MG from time to time (seem to think I picked it up at Maria's books in Durango?) and I take this as a blush-worthy compliment, Laura. I think that vibe/voice (I miss it too) is why I keep rotating back to writers "I used to read." Thanks so much for being here!
Glad you took it as a compliment! It most definitely was meant to be. I also wanted to let you know that your booklist from a week or so past led me to revisit one of those voices/vibes - Ellen Meloy. I’m rereading Eating Stone, thanks to you and all the big horn sheep we saw on the Grande Ronde in early May!
Happy to hear this! and how wonderful you saw them. I am ashamed how I took bighorn sheep for granted in the canyon, "oh, look, rams in rut" as if was an everyday, commonplace thing to see them. Even on our drives to OR from Idaho there used to be (10 years ago) a narrow stretch on I-84 just entering the gorge where we'd see them, perched on the basalt. And don't get me started on desert tortoises :) actually, please do.
That’s what writers and poets are for, though. To help us see. (Even to help another writer and poet to see!)
🐢 Here’s your official invitation to please write about desert tortoises!
An amazing piece of writing! I read it over three times to get the full spirit, and think I got it. In particular, though this is only a small part of the piece, I loved the use of "scree", a word I have used a lot, and whose essence I understand, having skated down many a scree slope. Talus, scree, and all the rest, this is a lovely essay, and you are a talented writer.
Happy to find you're a fellow-in-scree, Walter. Thank you for reading!
“The sun is slow suffocation disguised as a spent lover falling asleep on top of you, their heartbeat thumping your chest to remind you that too much of a good thing can crush the last pocket of room to breathe.” It can be!!
And to those friends, indeed! What a fabulous post, Mackenzie!
Thank you Holly!
What a post! What a powerful and perfect ending. I started to think what this would sound like as a eulogy delivered for a departed friend and it made me so sad and happy at the same time. Perfect.
I’m so happy it spoke to you, Michael. I wondered later if my use of the word “dharma” made sense in this context: as an “I really have no clue what I’m doing here, but here I am” flawed human, not seeking “perfection,” but reveling in the wake up calls.
It makes good sense!