I am encouraging wildness. Yes, I confess it, and I am asking you, “where is your wildness”? Where have you put it?
Here in my studio let’s sing of wild things. Let’s conquer beasts, and slay dragons. Let’s be each other’s knights in shining armor. Let’s risk to find the wildness in our work. Let’s look for wildness in our choices.
Thoreau said in one of his great writings: “In wildness is the preservation of the world.” Let’s do that. Let’s preserve our world and sing our wildness. Let’s find our authentic voices.
“We need the tonic of wildness…At the same time that we are earnest to explore and learn all things, we require that all things be mysterious and un–explorable, that land and sea be indefinitely wild, un–surveyed and unfathomed by us because unfathomable. We can never have enough of nature.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods
What is your ‘un–surveyed’ land’, that Thoreau speaks of? That ‘wild and unfathomable’?
Look at the wonderful things people are doing with their voices. (LINK HERE) Let’s continue that journey and support that journey. Step by step. Wild trail by wild trail.
Bring it on, 2017! I feel an interesting year. Wilder every breath.
Oh, get me to a River
Get me to a river,
A green and winding river,
Stones at my feet were mountain peaks,
Their majesty gave over.
Oh, get me to an ocean,
A roiling, rocking ocean,
Where I can dance on sand and shell,
Our Mother’s songs in motion.
Get me to a prairie wild,
A blooming, teaming prairie,
Where wild bees bound, tall grasses sway,
All bright and buzz and airy.
And, get me to a forest green
Cathedral misty forest,
Where whispers there of deeper life,
The wind, the birds in wildness keen.
Get me to a fireside bright,
A hot and roasting fireside,
To feed its hunger, sit and stare
And dream of wilder places there.
Get me to a loving face,
A friend who knows me well,
Who knew me when and knows me now
So brief, our fears of life erase.
Oh, get me to a Schubert Lied,
Where wildness lives in genius
In phrase and tone sing wondrous deeds,
The poet’s dreams do lead us.
I long to be in places wild,
The ancients, my companions,
Where dreams are fed, the heart is led
Our human fears abandon.
Oh, misty green, oh, keening wind,
The humble moss to guide me.
My past is here, my future sure
Breathe wildness in through bone and skin.
NOC—November 30, 2016