#winterjitters

[willamettemountain]

A Box / A Brain.

Ollie-VER / Plowing Through The Spring.

Being boxed in has had its benefits (albeit not many). I must admit, there ain’t much dynamic range available to the pursuit of advancement, which, for a spell, can serve as a resting point of sorts, when placed in such a place (a box, a box). AND of course there is that beautiful “sense” of safety in that static environment of boxivity, everything plotted out, all answers provided, no questioning needed (or wanted often time), all things are in their place. Little chaos, little movement, little light, little of anything. “Looking out the window on my color TV” has done, throughout the years of my existence, very little for what I would classify as true contentment, and dare I say, happiness?

Early Plantings / Stakin’ Claims / Willamette MTN

Millie Girl / Dirt Dinner

MTN Dew / Baby Girl / Diet Coke. THE new TRINITY.

We have lived inside of Willamette MTN for 6 years now, and for those 6 years we have never (from what I can recall) opened up our window’s blinds that face South East, directly toward the majestic mountains of the Wasatch Range. There never seemed much of a point, I suppose. What if the neighbors were to see me? Or I them? (gawd furbid), but the other night we opened the shades, to most windows in the house, it has completely changed the entire environment within (both the house and body). AMAZED at this transformation we are heading toward the new season. It is April 2016 and I am about to burst. The snowfall has subsided and the color of the sun has changed from her wintery white flicker to a golden burst of flames. I couldn’t be happier. Truth is I have not been one for snow, or winter for that matter, for quite some time now. As a child it seemed (and most likely was) magical and full of possibility, but the years tacked onto my back and the whole ordeal became fastidious. Perhaps it’s the sadness that quickly follows the post Christmas mayhem, or maybe it’s the gloom / the darkness that can so often accompany those short wintery days.  But most likely it’s the thickness (or thin-NESS, depending on how your eyes are viewing it) of my skin. As soon as the first snow falls I find that my body quickly goes into a survival / hibernation rhythm, COMPLETEY unable to find warmth. Cold. Freezing. ALL WINTER LONG.

But alas, the cubicle in which we (we, as in the wintery creatures that live in this place of the Utah tundra) have been living has had its walls chewed through by the termites of the CHOSEN SUN. YES! We are headed toward the liberation of our limbs and hearts. Able to make the small journey to the chicken coop and release the tethered feathered friends from their nests without cursing out venomous / vile wordings that (SURELY) Mother and Father James would NOT approve of, has served as a small, victorious event every morning during the past weeks. The dirt is warming and the cold frames that are placed around the house are soon to find company in their ability to grow food for the animals found in and around Willamette MTN. The long days that have spent with my little ones and lover have filled me more than I anticipated they would. I have been eagerly wrapped up in the finishing of the new set of recordings that we will be making available for those that care to listen. IT has taken a lot of my time and focus and it feels good to shift into something that seems, for lack of a better phrase, REALER.

Millie Girl / Trucks

New Turkeys

Seedlings / Onions / Mama

This isn’t to say that music isn’t real, or that it doesn’t cause REAL events / feelings/ effects. HEAVENS, what a silly thought now anyway. The bindings between the world of the singings and sowings are so closely intertwined, and I feel (at least currently) that my sentiments aren’t to change. I suppose what I mean to say is that the “REALNESS” of the plantings / sowings / diggings and tillings is one that feels inherently close to my humanity. To share this with the three human beings that I am so closely tethered to is something that I find hard to describe. The “farming” of our food has personally broken me out the boxed feeling of leaning on the grocers to provide my family and I with food (which so often is anything BUT (food)). We have been able to find a different connection with the world / family / each other and EVEN OURSELVES through the magnificent makings of a home(stead).  The time that Millie Girl and Ollie Boy have spent in the garden with Emma and I have been some of the most emotionally moving experiences of my “ADULT” life.

Rainbow Ride / Night Paintings.

Timmy The Teeth / Drummin’

Every person that I have known well (through it all) has had certain parameters and molds that they were poured into, gelatinous organisms expected to act / think / be a certain way or thing. Every aspect of this can be crushed and recreated. The capacity with which we are able to function, our capability, our possible reachings are (almost) endless. I s’pose I need to remind my bloody forgetful / slow and silly mind of this. I fall into terribly binding and suffocating circles (boxes) so often that to write it down feels therapeutic (at the least), and changing (at best).

Constant in forgetting. Hoping in the changing.

Joshua