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abirdisnotAs I mentioned the earlier entry, I am enrolled in a "Primitive Skills Apprenticeship Program", where we learn traditional hunting and gathering skills.
Classes have just started, as of October 5th. I'm enjoying it very much, and am already learning a lot. One thing I like about the program is its very hands-on nature--we will not be learning about these things in theory, but putting them into practice, going out on trips to harvest things, and making things with them later.
I have studied these skills before, but in a book-and-notes sort of way. It's hard when there's no one to show you and no one to practice these skills with--you'd have to have a kind of motivation or learning style that I don't think I possess.
I was always obsessed with nature as a child--who knows why this is. My brother never seemed to have a particular interest, though we both had the same scientist parents, the same trips to Discovery Park and the zoo.
Starting in, I think, about sixth grade, I started to constantly daydream about "running away to the woods." I was inspired by books like "My Side Of The Mountain," where a kid runs away to the Catskills and lives in a hollow tree, and "Julie of the Wolves," where an Eskimo girl (so called in the book, I know this is not the preferred terminology now) lives with a wolf pack. I longed so much to go to a place that had never been touched by humans, that was completely wild. To go to the earth like it would have been before humans even existed. I felt that humans were destroying the earth, and was angry about it--I felt that the best thing would be for us to stop existing entirely. I can hardly express the beauty and the poignancy of my visions, love, and longing for that connection to nature.
As much as I longed to do this, I'm not sure that I truly believed it was feasible for a modern person to have those experiences. Then when I was 12 or 13 I took a summer class at the University of Washington. It was held in the Parrington Building, which at the time was painted pink, and which was the place where Theodore Roethke taught. I should mention, my mom introduced me to Roethke when I was about 9, and he became my favorite poet, and I started writing poetry myself.
I should really post some of my "early works" that I recently found again in a drawer. One is called "The Contrast," and starts something like, "Light is no savior from darkness/For darkness needs not a savior from." It sounded totally...pretentious isn't even the right word, I don't know what the right word is. But my expression was completely sincere.
I recently wrote a lyric essay which is told from the perspective of myself at different ages. And, really, I found myself having to tone the diction of the narrator's voice down, because it would not really be believable as like, a six year old. I really did talk and think that way though.
Anyway. We went out a lot to the Arboretum and such, and read numerous books. Saw some films, too. That course had an absolutely immeasurable impact on me, and some of those books still remain my favorite. Some included "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Life of a Cell, The River Why, and The Tracker (we also watched movies like Koyyaniqatsi, and one I forget the name of, a very 70s film where the last remaining patch of nature--in a floating space biosphere--is about to be destroyed due to lack of interest/funding. One of the crew members kills everybody else off in order to prevent this, and then goes insane and starts playing card games with robots. At least, that's what I remember.)
This last book was especially significant for me. It is the autobiographic story of a young boy (and his friend) in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey, who are taught primitive skills, tracking, and awareness by an old Apache Indian man. The boys in the story were living my dream, doing what I thought was impossible. I knew then that I would eventually have to learn these skills.
I'd check out books on edible plants from the library, local guides, Euell Gibbons books, and lay on my stomach in our overgrown dog kennel, looking at plants in our yard and trying to find edible ones.
Blah de blah, school happens, life happens. I should mention I went to the Early Entrance Program at the UW and started college at 15, also of course an important experience. My first class was a tree ID class. :) I'm a person who is avidly interested in lots of things. I'd "forget" my connection to nature, how important that was to me, and then be reminded, promise I'd be more connected. Repeat.
After my MFA program I was looking for something to do. I didn't know what the fuck. I was considering joining the Peace Corps, teaching English in another country, moving to New Zealand and trying to do conservation work. I don't really want a job with paper and words, because I don't enjoy it that much and because I'm afraid it would burn me out, writing wise, to do that for a living. I want something hands on. Like, I would love to be apprenticed to a trade. I have had so many enthusiasms for different careers I never did. Actor, bodyguard, etc. Now I want to be a taxidermist.
Anyway, I googled and found this program. I wasn't doing anything else, had no attachments or obligations (it is a nine-month program), it was always something I had wanted, if not needed, to do, and the right time seemed like now.
Classes have just started, as of October 5th. I'm enjoying it very much, and am already learning a lot. One thing I like about the program is its very hands-on nature--we will not be learning about these things in theory, but putting them into practice, going out on trips to harvest things, and making things with them later.
I have studied these skills before, but in a book-and-notes sort of way. It's hard when there's no one to show you and no one to practice these skills with--you'd have to have a kind of motivation or learning style that I don't think I possess.
I was always obsessed with nature as a child--who knows why this is. My brother never seemed to have a particular interest, though we both had the same scientist parents, the same trips to Discovery Park and the zoo.
Starting in, I think, about sixth grade, I started to constantly daydream about "running away to the woods." I was inspired by books like "My Side Of The Mountain," where a kid runs away to the Catskills and lives in a hollow tree, and "Julie of the Wolves," where an Eskimo girl (so called in the book, I know this is not the preferred terminology now) lives with a wolf pack. I longed so much to go to a place that had never been touched by humans, that was completely wild. To go to the earth like it would have been before humans even existed. I felt that humans were destroying the earth, and was angry about it--I felt that the best thing would be for us to stop existing entirely. I can hardly express the beauty and the poignancy of my visions, love, and longing for that connection to nature.
As much as I longed to do this, I'm not sure that I truly believed it was feasible for a modern person to have those experiences. Then when I was 12 or 13 I took a summer class at the University of Washington. It was held in the Parrington Building, which at the time was painted pink, and which was the place where Theodore Roethke taught. I should mention, my mom introduced me to Roethke when I was about 9, and he became my favorite poet, and I started writing poetry myself.
I should really post some of my "early works" that I recently found again in a drawer. One is called "The Contrast," and starts something like, "Light is no savior from darkness/For darkness needs not a savior from." It sounded totally...pretentious isn't even the right word, I don't know what the right word is. But my expression was completely sincere.
I recently wrote a lyric essay which is told from the perspective of myself at different ages. And, really, I found myself having to tone the diction of the narrator's voice down, because it would not really be believable as like, a six year old. I really did talk and think that way though.
Anyway. We went out a lot to the Arboretum and such, and read numerous books. Saw some films, too. That course had an absolutely immeasurable impact on me, and some of those books still remain my favorite. Some included "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Life of a Cell, The River Why, and The Tracker (we also watched movies like Koyyaniqatsi, and one I forget the name of, a very 70s film where the last remaining patch of nature--in a floating space biosphere--is about to be destroyed due to lack of interest/funding. One of the crew members kills everybody else off in order to prevent this, and then goes insane and starts playing card games with robots. At least, that's what I remember.)
This last book was especially significant for me. It is the autobiographic story of a young boy (and his friend) in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey, who are taught primitive skills, tracking, and awareness by an old Apache Indian man. The boys in the story were living my dream, doing what I thought was impossible. I knew then that I would eventually have to learn these skills.
I'd check out books on edible plants from the library, local guides, Euell Gibbons books, and lay on my stomach in our overgrown dog kennel, looking at plants in our yard and trying to find edible ones.
Blah de blah, school happens, life happens. I should mention I went to the Early Entrance Program at the UW and started college at 15, also of course an important experience. My first class was a tree ID class. :) I'm a person who is avidly interested in lots of things. I'd "forget" my connection to nature, how important that was to me, and then be reminded, promise I'd be more connected. Repeat.
After my MFA program I was looking for something to do. I didn't know what the fuck. I was considering joining the Peace Corps, teaching English in another country, moving to New Zealand and trying to do conservation work. I don't really want a job with paper and words, because I don't enjoy it that much and because I'm afraid it would burn me out, writing wise, to do that for a living. I want something hands on. Like, I would love to be apprenticed to a trade. I have had so many enthusiasms for different careers I never did. Actor, bodyguard, etc. Now I want to be a taxidermist.
Anyway, I googled and found this program. I wasn't doing anything else, had no attachments or obligations (it is a nine-month program), it was always something I had wanted, if not needed, to do, and the right time seemed like now.
