We watched Into the Wild last weekend and are still haunted by the story of Christopher McCandless (aka Alexander Supertramp). The simple but beautiful cinematography set to the unforgettable and introspective soundtrack written and performed by Eddie Vedder captures the poignant irony of escaping life by truly living it.
The movie left me thoroughly restless ... I remember looking over at Zach and telling him not to get any great ideas about running off to live in the wild. He's always had this streak of fearless abandonment, this wanting to seek freedom however, wherever ...
This is perhaps the "problem" of having an actively creative mind. It is uncompromising in its quest blaze a trail, question the accepted, ditch the norm, and challenge standards and ideals ...
This is perhaps the "problem" of having an actively creative mind. It is uncompromising in its quest blaze a trail, question the accepted, ditch the norm, and challenge standards and ideals ...
birds sing, black coffee steams is a poem Zach wrote me in 2007.
birds sing, black coffee steams
i can't yet rub the sleep from my eyes
and leaving the warmth of my bed
was like dropping an anvil on my toes
mornings are both beautiful and horrible
places i wish i was and places i'd rather not be
the furnace kicks on.......
ahhhh modern conveniences,
preparing to drag my ass out the door
to go and waste my day, my hours, my life
working for someone else's profit
what is it to sleep in the sand
and wake up tangled to the sound of the crashing waves
no work, no morning, just awakened
like that first step into the fresh snow
where your heel touches and the cold rushes
from your foot to your knee, to your hip
around your back through your stomach
and to your heart warming your face
with rosy red cheeks and a cold nose
the spring and the snow
the cold and the sun....
ahhh black coffee steams
rushes down my insides and
rubs the sleep from my eyes
i can't yet rub the sleep from my eyes
and leaving the warmth of my bed
was like dropping an anvil on my toes
mornings are both beautiful and horrible
places i wish i was and places i'd rather not be
the furnace kicks on.......
ahhhh modern conveniences,
preparing to drag my ass out the door
to go and waste my day, my hours, my life
working for someone else's profit
what is it to sleep in the sand
and wake up tangled to the sound of the crashing waves
no work, no morning, just awakened
like that first step into the fresh snow
where your heel touches and the cold rushes
from your foot to your knee, to your hip
around your back through your stomach
and to your heart warming your face
with rosy red cheeks and a cold nose
the spring and the snow
the cold and the sun....
ahhh black coffee steams
rushes down my insides and
rubs the sleep from my eyes
Re-posted from a friend's blog:
ReplyDeleteFood for thought by James Richmond, Canada
‘Why do you do it?’ friends often ask, perplexed,
Brows raised, minds sorely vexed.
‘The world out there is dangerous!
Aren’t you scared? Why do this?
You need steady work, a house, two cars!
You have only a fourwheeldrive, and sleep under stars!’
Dear friend, if you must ask, you cannot know
This curiosity that drives me so.
To you it is hidden; in me rises unbidden!
But one day the world I’ll have ridden
By iron steed, then perhaps this need
Will have vanished, finally vanquished!
That day will find me on deathbed,
With no regrets for the life I led.
Will you be able to say the same?
Or will you despair a life worn plain?
I will stake my African memories
Against your estate of a thousand trees.
Pit my Ghanaian sunset
Against your private jet.
Weigh my horse rides at sunrise
To your Italian suits and ties.
I’ll rejoice in friends before I go,
Not the figures of my stock portfolio.
And, amazingly, there are more like me;
They reject slavery, and are truly free.
They took the chance we all had,
And honestly it makes me sad
That you didn’t.
You thought you couldn’t…
What?
Live without the luxuries
Of all our modern amenities?
You choose the bonds of mortgage, but claim to be free,
Wasting a lifetime absorbed by TV.
Why watch it? but live it!
One life’s all you get!
Don’t put off ’til morrow and continue to borrow
The lives of strangers; ’tis the greatest of dangers
To the soul
Which grows old
Before its time.
Hercules, Columbus,
Guevara, Odysseus,
Champlain, Agamemnon,
The list goes on…
What have they in common?
Regardless man or god,
The soil of continents they trod,
Not in search of gold but adventure!
Not growing old ’cause they ventured
Far from safety; but far be it from me
To Judge…
The pitiless pity us
With souls black pitted.
Pray! save it for those less spirited.
For us… our horizons are unlimited.
love it, gillian
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