Saturday, August 16, 2008


"They walked softly here. So will the others, the 
ones I seek.

The only way I can think to find them, the only 
archaeology that might be practical, is as follows:
You take your child or grandchild in your arms, or
borrow a young baby, not a year old yet, and go 
down into the wild oats in the field below the barn.
Stand under the oak on the last slope of the hill,
facing the creek. Stand quietly. Perhaps the baby
will see something, or hear a voice, or speak to
somebody there, somebody from home."
                 Towards an Archaeology of the Future

photographs by Ernest Waugh and Alan Nicholson
and text from Ursula K. Le Guin's ALWAYS COMING HOME)

("Person with Questions," gouache and watercolor on 
Arches watercolor paper, painted by am in the early 1980s)

Thank you to all who continue to visit NEW MORNING 
IN THE NORTH COUNTRY. I am grateful for your


robin andrea said...

What a beautiful quote, and it's lovely to see one of your self-portraits again.

am said...

The woman in the painting is someone I imagined as a sister of Bob Dylan, rather than a self-portrait. Thanks for picturing me that way!


The Solitary Walker said...

Jakob in today's 'Sunday Times' looks the spitting image of his dad!

am said...

I've been listening to "Seeing Things." After the first play, I put it away for several weeks. Then I got it out again and began to appreciate it. Not so much for the lyrics. It's the sound of the music that moves me.

I particularly like these lyrics from the first Wallflowers album:

"I know you don't remember ever falling down,
Who picked you up, who gathered around
But you don't have to be his girl
And you don't have to be my girl."
You can always be your own girl.

("Be Your Own Girl, 1992, Jakob Dylan)

Those lyrics I took to heart.

Jakob Dylan is his own man. I like that about him.

R.L. Bourges said...

I'm not much of a comment leaver these days. still drop by, though. be well.

am said...

Thanks for stopping by, R.L.

Dale said...


Anonymous said...

I haven't been the best about commenting lately. Just too much going on. But I still enjoy your images, your quotes, and the occasional forays into your past. :-)