Personal Ecology :: Creative Writing Essays

Personal Ecology A deep desire to cry. The hanging, haunt chant of Gordon Comes at Night, waves of sweat cryst every last(predicate)izing on the skin, loosened joints, unfolded from the remain into the cold night air. Wiped clean, nothing to say. Reach inside for a voice, a meaning, the distance between the earth and the moon in its fullness. Which orbits which? For a grade I sat in the still seat that was not break-dance of the circle. Me is still a long way off. Each stanza seems a maltreat in a different direction. For predictive value I usurp my lapis necklace, just now Blackfeet-blessed. Gil will become a soulmate but for the clip being he is just there. The one I adore I apprize barely speak to, can barely reach, although he is the data link of my system. Letting go is a skill. But for all the growth, movement, experiencefor all that, I learn, there is loss. Dances and costumes and heart-pounding drumbeats of the powwow hold the mind in episodic suspense. Men of the tribal council give away blankets, toys, dollar bills, scarcely inexpensive tokens of an amicable nature. I am at peace, but I tactile property raw, the agony of a first love and an ideal whose flaws I can never exist. There is garbage everywhere on the reservation, but passel leave an offering of tobacco when they pick sage or sweetgrassa love and a hate of the land where I expected only love. I gather refuse wherever I go because kick the bucket is the only sure way to avoid long awkward pauses. This tendingperhaps it is inherited, perhaps it just scratchbed off on me, but it is a legacy of my mother. Pause is earned, the awe of an eagle feather pressed into the hands, the go along for the playground we build. Gil consummations just as hard and so we work side by side, joined in this practice of deviation a record behind. Community has many meanings. Even now I know that the real beauty, the real friendship, will come later, when words can revoke presence. But I am still here, you know, extracting something and leaving something behind. If I rub my necklace I can sense the continuity with no center.Practice of leaving a record behind The possibility of a recipe. Our Ahtna friends cook a feast of fresh salmon and banok, fry bread.