If you’ve been scratching your head all along, asking yourself, “back-to-the-what?” the trailer above does a pretty good job of summing it up. I can’t really express enough gratitude to my brother-from-another-mother-and-generation Joey Dello Russo. Add extra thanks to the good dudes from PEALS for the music that glues the images together, and you have yourself a heaping serving of “completely blown away by how generous my friends are.”
So listen up day dreamers, aspiring agriculturalists, burgeoning farmers, homesteaders, cooks, outdoors people, hippies and fellow country living enthusiasts — this book is for you. If you’ve ever dreamed of dropping out, getting back to basics and leaving the rat race behind, I literally wrote it just for you (which is to say for me, too). It’s about sustainability, self-sufficiency, counter cultures, communes, voluntary simplicity and figuring out what life looks like lived outside the mainstream. Really it’s about doing things differently and the way that idealism endures over the course of forty years and two generations.
If you read this blog, and enjoy it, do me a solid and take a step outside the “like and move on” box. Order it and I’ll be grateful, but please go the extra mile and spread the word. Share it, talk to me about it, and let people know what you think about this whole thing. At the end of the day, if you’ve ever wondered if it’s still possible to find yourself a place in the sun, out among the grass and the trees, we’re on the same page.
At long last, it’s almost here. This Thursday, February 13, 2014, I’ll be hurling two and half years of hard work out into the world in the form of my first book. GET BACK STAY BACK looks at the back-to-the-land movement as it unfolds over the course of two generation here in Maine. I didn’t really realize it at the time, but rolling my sleeves up and diving deep into this topic led me to a place where a lot of what’s important to me in life comes together at a critical juncture. Food, farming, wilderness, art, handcraft, and the pursuit of simplicity — specifically how hard it can be to pursue — it’s all in there.
If you’re interested and so moved, we’d love to have you at the launch party on from 7:30-9:00 at the ICA at MECA in downtown Portland. Support independent publishing and all the elbow grease that goes into it, and maybe share this post or shout about it from a mountain top if you enjoy WW&W from time to time. There’s more to come, which you can keep up with here: www.getbackstayback.com.
If you can’t make it down, copies will soon be available for purchase online. Link to come!
Couldn’t have said it any better myself. And while we’re on the topic of Ira Glass and This American Life, how cool is it that podcasts have contribute to, rather than detracted from, the tradition of narrative radio shows. This is the technology era, after all, and it often seems like every brave new step erases something grand and old.
And despite what this piece says about Why Audio Never Goes Viral, TAM has an audience of over two million listeners. I mean, it’s not Lone Ranger, but there’s still just something about the state of half-zone out one can only achieve while listening to a story without any associated visual stimuli.
You know that thing where you don’t post anything for THREE MONTHS, then you do? And you wonder, how’d that happen? What’ve I been up to? Well, to answer that, a lot.
Just last week I put the final finishing touches on my book. More on that soon, it’ll be out in the next month and available for purchase. I’ve also been writing grants for one of the most amazing non-profits around, and writing some catalog copy for this venerable outdoor institution.
But mostly, I’ve been listening to a lot of Cass McCombs. This video combines so many of my favorite things, I’m not sure what to do about it. One is Cass’ new album Big Wheel and Others. Another is the use of the Shreddy McGnargnar (aka, Shreddy Vedder) imagery, masterminded by Patrick O’dell. If you haven’t checked out his mini-doc series on Vice Epicly Later’d, do it now and kiss the next several hours of your life goodbye (even if you’re not a crusty old skate bum like myself and obsessed with late-90s era Toy Machine videos, seriously, the series is so good).
Lots more to come soon, keep an eye peeled. On a parting note, here’s a shot of Cass with Patrick’s dog Edgar. If you need a little kick in the pants today, check out Edgar’s transformation from rescue dog wreckage to beloved household pet. RIP Edgar, and all the other very good dogs who’ve blessed us with their presence.
This is pretty much it.
There’s such disparity between the seasons here in Maine, it’s like each is entirely divorced from the others. One day you’re walking between man-sized snowbanks on the sidewalk outside your house and then four months later you’re still sweating in shorts and a t-shirt at 11 o’clock at night.
Right now we’re enjoying a long slow fade of a fall. It’s been glorious, the blaze of color across the landscape lasted longer than I ever remember. The weather stayed warm, prolonging that precarious moment at the tipping point between winter and fall. The leaves clung to the trees, steadfast, almost seeming committed to prolonging our enjoyment of my favorite part of the year.
It’s all over now, though, for the most part. The oaks have gone the color of dry, yellow parchment, or crisp chicken skin on a plate of Sunday dinner, and they’re all we have left. The bareness ahead can be beautiful in its own way, the bare bones of trees matching the dark tones of the earth below their limbs, which blend out to the horizon beyond. The blaze orange comes next, as hunters set out to fill freezers, and into storage go shorts and sneakers. Soon we’ll be out on the sidewalk again, hustling along, backs bent and chests hunched against the penetrating cold.
On those days I’ll have to remember this picture; shot by my friend Nathan Gilliss, of my dog Reyes. It was a day so hot — the Fourth of July — that we could all actually enjoy the bone aching water of the bay. We stayed in all day, this guy maintaining a vigilante watch over an ever-increasing cache of sticks for fetching. As soon as he left the water, his not insubstantial tongue was out, and salt formed into white spiked crystals at the tip ends of his black coat.
It’ll be good to remember being that hot, if it’s possible in the dead of winter. That the two experiences, freezing and perspiring, play out in the same environment is a piece of cognitive dissonance that might just be irreconcilable.
I shot and edited this little video feature on my friend Katrine Hildebrandt-Hussey and her in-home art habit. It debuted last week on UpriseArt.com, a site that apparently sells quite a bit of her work.
Music by one of my favorite bands of the last five years (easily) — OTHER COLORS.
© 2014 Wool Wood & Whiskey | Theme by Eleven Themes