Antonia, I'm so glad to have found your writing again! I feel a similar ambivalence about writing and what it's for. Maybe it's not the world, but the writing changes us, more often than not for the better I hope. I'm so glad that I get to read your thoughts on the regular now!
Yay, Sherri! So good to see you here. I always feel a bit uplifted when I see one of your posts in my inbox :)
You are so right -- the writing changes us. Another writer friend and I were talking about the climate change post and my friend said, " But then why did she write this?" When I thought about it, I thought that it's because when you're called to write, the writing itself is your way of processing the world. It is for me, anyway.
By reason of all its powers that you listed, I think writing DOES change the world. But incrementally, a person at a time, an idea at a time, a feeling at a time. For better, for worse, for who knows what, but it is a force of change. And yet, as you said, as powerful as it feels, it does not SAVE anything.
Yes, you are right. I think many of us -- I'm including myself in this -- have this image of writing one thing and having it just sweep across worldwide consciousness like a bonfire. Good investigative journalism is prone to this. It *should* matter more, and maybe if people dedicate more time and resources to it, it will matter more than the daily bread and circuses we're usually fed.
Ahhhh, camping. We haven't been since the pandemic began, and I am missing my favorite spots. I've got a story about a rude couple though, because of course those are the memorable moments that stick in my mind. 4th of July weekend, a few years ago at Newhalem campground in North Cascades National Park. We chose it because there are no fireworks allowed within miles and our dog doesn't like the noise. A big pickup (of course) pulls in next to us, and the young-ish couple sets up their site festooned in red, white and blue decor - music blaring. We complained to the ranger as they came by, and the music got turned down and wasn't a problem the rest of the weekend. It gets better though! After a while, I realized the guy was shooting bbs at little targets he had placed around the campsite. Looking back I don't know why I didn't complain - probably because it would have been obvious it was us. When they finally departed, they drove their big truck the wrong way out of the campground. I picked up a bunch of little targets from the site, which he had put some effort into placing here and there. I was just thinking about this the other day when I picked up some fireworks detritus on the dog walk. I've been meaning to make some collages with this stuff. This will be a good project if/when we get trapped inside due to smoke.
That sounds awful! I haven't yet experienced someone target shooting within a campground, although I bet it happens at some of the ones without camp hosts. There are some nearby that are in lovely spots and I've wanted to camp there but my friends have said they're awful, with loud music and people running generators all night. So depressing.
A collage with that kind of garbage would be really interesting. There's a place I go that is clearly popular for target shooting and also target shooting combined with big drunken bonfires (I'm extrapolating from the big fire circle surrounded by shot-up liquor bottles) and I just don't know why people have to be such assholes? I pick up the larger trash when I go there, but it's impossible to keep up with the broken glass and abandoned shells.
The piece about expecting writing to change the world really resonates. And the campsite borrowing and sharing brings back some lovely childhood memories.
Antonia, I'm so glad to have found your writing again! I feel a similar ambivalence about writing and what it's for. Maybe it's not the world, but the writing changes us, more often than not for the better I hope. I'm so glad that I get to read your thoughts on the regular now!
Yay, Sherri! So good to see you here. I always feel a bit uplifted when I see one of your posts in my inbox :)
You are so right -- the writing changes us. Another writer friend and I were talking about the climate change post and my friend said, " But then why did she write this?" When I thought about it, I thought that it's because when you're called to write, the writing itself is your way of processing the world. It is for me, anyway.
+1 to Swainson's Thrushes. I call them rainbow birds, for the sound of that extraordinary song.
I love love love that. That is the best description ever. It really is an aural rainbow.
By reason of all its powers that you listed, I think writing DOES change the world. But incrementally, a person at a time, an idea at a time, a feeling at a time. For better, for worse, for who knows what, but it is a force of change. And yet, as you said, as powerful as it feels, it does not SAVE anything.
Yes, you are right. I think many of us -- I'm including myself in this -- have this image of writing one thing and having it just sweep across worldwide consciousness like a bonfire. Good investigative journalism is prone to this. It *should* matter more, and maybe if people dedicate more time and resources to it, it will matter more than the daily bread and circuses we're usually fed.
So much of the world is "absurdly, insanely beautiful." Thanks for your thoughts, your writing and your links!
It is! It really is.
Ahhhh, camping. We haven't been since the pandemic began, and I am missing my favorite spots. I've got a story about a rude couple though, because of course those are the memorable moments that stick in my mind. 4th of July weekend, a few years ago at Newhalem campground in North Cascades National Park. We chose it because there are no fireworks allowed within miles and our dog doesn't like the noise. A big pickup (of course) pulls in next to us, and the young-ish couple sets up their site festooned in red, white and blue decor - music blaring. We complained to the ranger as they came by, and the music got turned down and wasn't a problem the rest of the weekend. It gets better though! After a while, I realized the guy was shooting bbs at little targets he had placed around the campsite. Looking back I don't know why I didn't complain - probably because it would have been obvious it was us. When they finally departed, they drove their big truck the wrong way out of the campground. I picked up a bunch of little targets from the site, which he had put some effort into placing here and there. I was just thinking about this the other day when I picked up some fireworks detritus on the dog walk. I've been meaning to make some collages with this stuff. This will be a good project if/when we get trapped inside due to smoke.
That sounds awful! I haven't yet experienced someone target shooting within a campground, although I bet it happens at some of the ones without camp hosts. There are some nearby that are in lovely spots and I've wanted to camp there but my friends have said they're awful, with loud music and people running generators all night. So depressing.
A collage with that kind of garbage would be really interesting. There's a place I go that is clearly popular for target shooting and also target shooting combined with big drunken bonfires (I'm extrapolating from the big fire circle surrounded by shot-up liquor bottles) and I just don't know why people have to be such assholes? I pick up the larger trash when I go there, but it's impossible to keep up with the broken glass and abandoned shells.
The piece about expecting writing to change the world really resonates. And the campsite borrowing and sharing brings back some lovely childhood memories.
Thank you! We certainly have wandered the writing gamut together ...