I had the opportunity to meet and work with two incredible photographers this year, living on opposite sides of the Pacific, doing their best to look at the hard things. Grateful for the wonderful creative team at Coast Mountain Culture and Kootenay Mountain Culture for opportunities to explore these ideas, about reaching limits and the…
The Heart is a Drum
Yvonne Wallace gave herself seven days to close her heart and put it back in her chest, having stretched it as wide and thin as a deer hide to allow her story to resound through it, to sing of bone-truths. She had performed her one-woman show, ūtszan, twenty times, from Whistler to Whitehorse, Dawson City…
The Puzzle of Two-Eyed Seeing
The Dark Season is here, and my dinner table is about to be given over to a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle. I feel a bit sheepish about confessing the grandma-ness of this, but I haven’t had to write a resume for over a decade, so I am now liberated of having to impress anyone with…
Just One Question – a new column in Coast Mountain Culture magazine
I’ve been contributing to Coast Mountain Culture magazine since their debut issue, and this winter, have taken that relationship to the next-level, with my debut column, in which I apparently endorse tarot cards, dancing instead of wrestling, and the Buddhist concept of Mu. Mostly, what I want to say is, if we want better solutions,…
What’s to Gain from Letting Risk In
The code of the fisherman is to stare every day, unflinchingly, at the sea. Fishing has been in Hiroshi Shirakawa’s family for more than 15 generations. At 72, he still operates a seasonal seaweed harvesting operation on Japan’s north-eastern coast, putting out to sea from his village of Oya every morning before dawn, and returning…
Finding the right outlet
A month ago, I drove through Pemberton and one of the most beautiful 14 year old kids I know, was standing in the middle of the roundabout, shaking a sign and punching his fist in the air. The Climate Strikes had come to Pemberton. Nice work, gang, I thought. Good for you. I honked my horn in…
Riding Back in Time
As we rode away from the trailhead, the guide turned back to throw a cheerful bit of advice over her shoulder. “You might as well turn your phones to Airplane Mode now. Save the batteries for the camera.” Searching for a signal would drain them dead, since there’s none to be found once you ride…
Forget pink and blue. Gender relations is a green issue
If I told you my kid loves to wear nail polish, is passionate about nature, animals and Wild Kratts, likes soccer, mountain biking and skiing, and sported, for the last month of summer, a feather in blond locks from Slow Food Cycle – and that her name is Jo – I’m guessing you’d think she…
A question of growth
I read somewhere that your garden is a reflection of your personality. My garden has gone off-script. It is wild, unkempt, rangy, not willing to commit to any one single thing beyond the belief that there are mysterious forces at play in the natural world to which I surrender control. It’s utterly prolific and not…
Imperfect, but adapting to it
It’s an ugly truth. When I first encountered climber Craig DeMartino, I felt a little bit sorry for him. He was inspiring, for sure. Remarkable in his resilience, absolutely. But, with his right leg amputated below the knee, I saw the absence more than his remarkable presence. DeMartino was a professional climber and one of…
