Searching

More than a few of you use my videos to lull yourselves to sleep at night. Normally I would not be very happy about it, but I do the same. It seems that for whatever reason these do the trick. I remember curling up next to the fire in Newfoundland and watch these clips one after the next. They were just long enough to soothe you, but just short enough to make you wonder what was next. I would watch til I could not keep my eyes open, then usually the camera or laptop would turn itself into sleep mode as I pulled the yarn afghan to my ears. They were my lullaby as I stayed at the edge of the sea, half way between the two homes that I knew: Hawaii and Switzerland.

It was a strange place to rebuild a life, a lonely place that forced introspection for the sake of self preservation. Most of the artists came to the residency, drank and drugged themselves silly and then talked a lot, thinking themselves better than the locals. Others pulled inward, taking long walks along the cliff's edge, while I climbed down the cliff to the seas edge. I remember having a talk with two other artists on a swift hike through a series of thickly wooded trails that all look exactly the same. People get lost there, and are never found again. You have to mark your trail in a way that you remember, making arrows out of pine cones and dropping a glove to help you home. A bent branch means something to someone, you learned to never disturb what could be anothers lifeline. I also remember the look on one artist's face when we spoke of the isolation and danger. She grew very pale upon realizing she had greatly underestimated the place. She mistook it for rustic and quaint. She never thought that she would not be found if she got lost. The Coast Guard circles about in a helicopter for good reason. Someone, somewhere is always being sought. If they are found is another story.

I returned home one night after a 14 hour day which started as a overly long hike and ended in a search for Caplin fish with two off duty Canadian Coast guards and a Medi-vac nurse. It ended up being much more than a talk on a stony beach. They took me into their hard, stormy lives in the High Arctic. Their lives took shape one story at a time, some happy stories of saving lives and other stories that ended in long silences where you felt the ending in the pit of your stomach. A year later, I still feel those stories. I drank a beer, then another beer, threw sticks for the dog,learned the two step from the nurse and sealed the day with a ceremonial exchange of bandanna for cap. We never found the Caplin fish. It didn't matter. I crept back home to a worried artist who thought I should have been home already. She was right, I was late. We sat under the stars and I tried to retell what I learned that day. I was happy that she was looking for me. Upon coming to NYC I ended up meeting that same artist's student right in the building where I live. I keep an eye on her student now, making sure she stays inspired, I figure it is the least I can do. As for the Coast Guard They should be way up there by now, and the nurse should be in her new post at Rankin Inlet delivering babies on the fly.

Sleep well friends.