I have been away from posting for some time and I do apologize to you, my dear reader, for my unexplained absence. I find that sometimes when there is too much in one's mind then the best thing is not to say anything. Maybe this is a Finnish thing, a stubborn vestige of my ancestry that surfaces at times, I don't know. Or maybe it's more of a digital reality and one needs time to process things when entering so many different spaces, material and imaginative.
I went to Cascades yesterday morning with my sister, Katja. There is something about smooth hard rock under your feet and an open sky overhead and an edging of conifers and the sound of rushing water that is grounding, at least from my perspective as a northwestern Ontario resident who finds this kind of nature a welcoming home.
I saw this beer can floating down the river and rushing into the currents. I said to Katja, "Look! Paddle-to-the-Sea contemporary style!"
Paddle-to-the-Sea was a children's book that we loved when we were little, that we read at school. It's the story of a boy who makes a wooden toy canoe with a wooden Indian boy in it and then puts it in the water at Lake Nipigon, the source of the Great Lakes. The wooden Indian and canoe then travel the water route all the way to the ocean. Of course, we did not know then that it was romantic savage imagery that we were learning, along with
capitalist industry. This beer can reminded me of the myths we make, but this time the myth of pristine nature in disposable society.
I have been away from posting for some time and I do apologize to you, my dear reader, for my unexplained absence. I find that sometimes when there is too much in one's mind then the best thing is not to say anything. Maybe this is a Finnish thing, a stubborn vestige of my ancestry that surfaces at times, I don't know. Or maybe it's more of a digital reality and one needs time to process things when entering so many different spaces, material and imaginative. 
I went to Cascades yesterday morning with my sister, Katja. There is something about smooth hard rock under your feet and an open sky overhead and an edging of conifers and the sound of rushing water that is grounding, at least from my perspective as a northwestern Ontario resident who finds this kind of nature a welcoming home. 
I saw this beer can floating down the river and rushing into the currents. I said to Katja, "Look! Paddle-to-the-Sea contemporary style!" Paddle-to-the-Sea was a children's book that we loved when we were little, that we read at school. It's the story of a boy who makes a wooden toy canoe with a wooden Indian boy in it and then puts it in the water at Lake Nipigon, the source of the Great Lakes. The wooden Indian and canoe then travel the water route all the way to the ocean. Of course, we did not know then that it was romantic savage imagery that we were learning, along with capitalist industry. This beer can reminded me of the myths we make, but this time the myth of pristine nature in disposable society.
