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CHRIS ARVIDSON

words and art
 

All the Words and Art Happenings Up in Here

No Joy in Mudville

October 16, 2011
Tags: baseball, Detroit Tigers, Miggy
Well, the Mighty Casey did not strike out last night. In fact, Miggy hit two home runs, one a tremendous blast that might well have trailed a banner behind it saying "Screw This." It wasn't enough, not nearly enough.

My Detroit Tigers took a brutal beating last night to end all dreams of going to the World Series in 2011. I won't go into all of the brutal play-by-play, a 15-5 score tells that sad tale. Suffice it to say that mistakes were made, mostly by players. A couple of bad calls by umpires only added insult to self-inflicted injury. In short, it was a total Murphy's Law game. Everything that could go wrong did. Even with Miggy's two home runs.

I have been trying to figure out this morning which hurts more -- getting the absolute shit beat out of you, or losing in a nail-biter? I'm thinking the nail-biter would be better. It lacks the humiliation factor. I kept thinking about how truly awful it must have felt to be a Tiger on the plane going home last night.

Additionally, while not a very sporting sentiment on my part, I have to admit that I hated getting beat by the Rangers. As far as I can see, the only thing good about Texas is Lyle Lovett. You can keep the rest. And knowing that W was there cheering for the Rangers (which, during his tenure with the club, he about ran into the ground) made it suck just that little hurtful bit more. The only bright spot about the Rangers is their manager. Washington surely does have a good time at games; you can see why his players want to perform for him. But all in all, I'm hoping they get their asses handed to them in the World Series.

So today I will retire my Tiger souvenirs for another year. I'll put away the pennants and the button and the cartoons and the ears from the 1984 World Series. Maybe I can talk Henry into going down to Florida for Spring Training in March... Read More 
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Wow Wildacres

September 28, 2011
Tags: Wildacres, writing, cabin, snakes, mice, friends
What a great week at Wildacres. Thank to Mike and the whole crew. I got to eat with the staff each day, and that was a treat. Thanks also to the Blumenthal Foundation and family who make it possible for writers and artists to have this rare opportunity to work.

I made serious progress on six essays and also started a brand new top-secret project that is way out of my usual comfort zone. Look for some bits of the essays on this blog soon. And I'll be posting a new photo essay here on this site in the next few days as well. Read More 
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Off I Go

August 28, 2011
Tags: Wildacres, writing, books, retreat, solitary
I'm just about all packed up for my Wildacres Residency. I head over there after lunch tomorrow. It's only about 90 minutes away, but from my preparations you'd think I was making a 2 week European tour.

Thanks for all the great suggestions on what to bring/not bring! I am for the most part taking your good advice. Especially in the traveling light mode. Here's what I'm bringing:

- lap top for writing (not for internet, none there);
- IPad to write other places than the cabin and to try out the Omm Writer (I will let you know how this writer's app works out);
- ratty comfortable non-public clothes;
- "chillo" (more about this another time - it's a menopause necessary);
- a small handful of books, non-recreational, related to what I'm working on;
- rain gear (meals are a 1/4 mile away). Read More 
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Help Me Out

August 15, 2011
Tags: writing, retreat, Wildacres, solitary
Sorry Travis, no pets are allowed at Wildacres.
OK friends, I have a request. In a couple of weeks I'll be heading off to Wildacres for a week's retreat. It's an incredible opportunity for me - I'm the recipient of one of their residencies! Wildacres provides a solitary bit of time away from it all, in a cabin in the woods, with meals at the dining hall if you want them, and the solitude in which to accomplish something.

Here's where you come in... I've got some thinking and writing to do, as you can imagine. It's time to quit fooling around. I need to organize ideas, prioritize (and delete) projects, and outline a work plan for going forward...

Here's my request: If you were me, what would you bring along to your Wildacres residency?

P.S. In view of the many excellent suggestions I've so quickly gotten from y'all, I think I shall publish a packing list on this blog before I go! Read More 
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Platte River Sunset

August 4, 2011
Tags: Lake Michigan, Platte River, sunset
Watching the sunset on Lake Michigan at the mouth of the Platte River. It's about a 9:20-9:30 p.m. event this time of year. At the end of this little vid a self portrait of my younger sister and me.

Copy and paste this link to go to where the video is stored on Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bcrALTlekeU

 Read More 
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Happy Birthday to Me!

July 23, 2011
Tags: Lake Michigan, Frankfort, King Salmon, Lake Trout, fishing
Up at 3:30 on my birthday. Out on Lake Michigan by 5:00 a.m. Two fish caught. Go over to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IzjhE8eLevU to watch the video I made!
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Expedition 2011

July 22, 2011
Tags: New River, expedition, kayak, paddle, National Committee for the New River, NCNR
For some unknown reason in 2010, every damn time I got in the river I managed to dump myself and go for a swim. And mind you, that's no mean feat in a kayak. Well, maybe EVERY time is a slight exaggeration, but not much...

But Wednesday, the first day of the National Committee for the New River's first day of the 2011 Expedition, I managed to stay upright the entire float. I almost bagged it on one little rapid/rock, but managed to save myself at the last minute. George was watching me and I think he was disappointed not to have to fish me out. I'm pretty clear that the reason it almost happened was the River Gods were warning me -- right before it happened we were talking about (and making fun of) people who come out on the New River with us and whine the whole time. All whining and bitching was noticeably absent on Wednesday -- keep your fingers crossed that this state of affairs continues throughout the Expedition. Read More 
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Returning

June 30, 2011
Tags: travel, England, Lake District, Nick, Margaret, Henry, hiking, Emma Rugg, steve, Pickle
At the airport in Philadelphia... where stereotyping took a beating. As we were sitting there, 3 "old girls" clearly from England, plopped down to wait for the flight to Manchester. They were wearing saggy polyester, socks in sandals, and carried plastic shopping bags. I expect they were in their late 60s to early 70s. So, what, were they on their American holiday to look at gardens? Go to Disney? Nossir. One promptly whipped out an IPad2, whilst her companion cranked up her IPhone 4. I shit you not. What a scream! Wish I could have got a secret picture...
We're back from a wonderful trip to the Lake District in England. I think it's a story best told in pictures, so look for them to the right of this post and also by clicking the "photo essay" tag above.
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Starting to Get Ready

June 10, 2011
Tags: travel, England, Lake District, Ravenglass, hiking, Ska Fell, Muncaster, Emma Rugg
Yay! I am officially close enough to our trip to England that I'm starting the packing process, setting aside things, watching the weather... It has been said of me that I have as much fun in the run-up to a big trip as I do actually making he trip. I expect it is true.

Today I perused my trail maps and guidebooks. I even got out the road map to look over the route from the Manchester airport to Ravenglass, on Cumbria's coast where we'll be staying. I put an open suitcase on the floor of the bedroom, so I can start stashing things as they come to mind over the next few days.

All of my reservations are made. The seats are selected. I've figured out which suitcase and pack will go on the trip. The weather looks like it will be cool; at least the first few days -- mid-50s with possible rain.

I'm already having fun! Read More 
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Fun at Wildacres

May 29, 2011
Tags: Wildacres, writing, workshop, hiking, England, Nick, Asolo, boots
I've been at Wildacres Retreat in Little Switzerland, NC, this week. It was the Spring Gathering when about 100 people from all over the country come to write, think, paint, make pots and jewelry and music. It's a wonderful place with miles of mountain trails. I wrote this essay on Monday, after Henry and I went on our first hike of the week along Deer Lick Gap Trail. I read it at the open reading Monday night, too.

(You'll also want to check out the picture to the right -- it's what Henry was up to while we were there.)

The Backs of Your Boots

This morning on the Deer Lick Gap Trail I said, “I know well what the back of your boots looks like. I’ve walked many, many miles behind you, seeing them ahead of me.” Hundreds of miles in fact.

You’ve got on a pair of Asolos today. They are the same brand and style as the ones you had on for that walk along Hadrian’s Wall path in England with Nick. You probably remember what the back of Nick’s boots look like. That’s our usual order on the trail. Nick first, Henry next, me brining up the rear. It’s a pattern we always seem to fall into naturally. Considering the trouble you had with the Hadrian’s Wall boots, it’s a puzzle how you would end up in another pair a few years later.

Your boots today have a beige color bit in the middle of the back, framed by black, with an orange slice across the top. The Hadrian’s Wall Trail version had a big vertical orange stripe of nubuck leather on them that formed the back of the heel. It was that orange piece that was rubbing the back of your right ankle one early morning, making each step along the road painful for you.

Try as I might, I can’t remember which day of the six-day trek the dreaded problem showed up. It wasn’t the first, or the last. It was one day during the vast-seeming middle -- where the initial excitement of the adventure had worn off, and the end was not yet in site. The middle of a days-long hike like Hadrian’s Wall tends to get all mushed together in your mind and it’s hard to place yourself along the landmarks of the trail in any kind of chronological order.

I do remember that you were frustrated and pissed off and wondering whether or not you could make it that day with this impediment. Nick and I really didn’t know what to do to help. Saying “Suck it up you pussy” or “just walk it off” weren’t going to help. I bet that’s what Nick was thinking. I went with sympathy, which was maybe a little helpful, but not much, and probably a little forced.

Nick and I just stood there looking at you for a while. Your stupid boot and your stupid ankle had us in a spot.

And that spot was “in the middle of somewhere.” That is to say, not “in the middle of nowhere.” There’s really not much of England anymore that could properly be called “the middle of nowhere.” Still, it’s not like we were near a town where we could get a bus, a train, or rent a car, either.

What do you do when you’re hiking point-to-point on a linear trail and someone has to drop out? It’s not like you can just say, “screw it” and get in the car and drive to the next planned stop for the night. And what do the others in the party do? Nick and I couldn’t just park your ass and go on… we couldn’t all just sit there… we couldn’t go back to the place we’d stayed the night before, because - what good would that do? We did not bring spare pairs of boots. We didn’t even have our main packs with us – we were using a service to send them on ahead to our evening’s destination each day – so who knows where on the road they were at that moment.

I remember fishing out some blister prevention band-aids or something from the daypack - a half-assed attempt at magically fixing your ankle and your boot. I honestly don’t remember there being a moment where a solution obviously presented itself. Ta da!

We simply limped on ahead. One foot in front of the other. One painful step at a time. After a while, it just got easier for you to put up with the pain and, anyway, what choice did you have? You went on, picking up the pace little by little, and pretty soon you stopped talking about it all together. (Yay!) Eventually, by late that morning, all three of us forgot about the problem. The morning’s drama having concluded, we got on about the rest of the day’s hike, enjoying the landscape, the stones, the fields, the sheep poo, and the welcome breaks for good food, welcome company, and a place to put up our dogs that night.

You probably remember it differently.

The two things I remembered this morning, when I was walking behind you along Deer Lick Gap Trail, were the orange strip of leather up the back of your boots, and the way you just went on that day on the Hadrian’s Wall Trail. Read More 
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