FROM AWAY, TO AWAY

The picture above has little to do with this content but it is posted by popular request from a loyal and careful reader (my mom). It is the house I am in the process of buying on Deer Isle. I first came to Deer Isle in 1982 to Haystack to take a course in hand papermaking. It rained for the first 16 of the 19 days I was here - it was July - and I still moved here full-time in 1991. The house above will be the fourth place I have lived on the Island.

One of the prevailing aspects of life here is the underlying texture of belonging to place. People from away will introduce themselves with their number of years of residence, full or part-time and stories of how they found this place. Locals rattle off rapid family trees including families of origin and marriage, businesses, houses and at least one Eaton. In some circles, I am one of many transplants with extra cred for years of residence and raising a child here. In other circles, I am one of the few to come without a local history - parents, grandparents and gravestones.

Friday I drove to Portland for an errand for the office, to see some art and to hear a band. On the (rainy) drive home I was thinking about a piece I saw by Lisa Young an artist from Providence, the only city I have ever lived in. It was a in many ways a very simple piece but one which captured a sense of place in its scope. The installation consisted of 365 4"x6" rectangles mounted in a calendar format - blocks of seven columns and four or five rows arranged in four columns of three. Overall the arrangement set up a pleasing rhythm of many blues and grays - from intense turquoise to a gray bleached of all tint - interrupted by white at the change of month. Specifically each rectangle was a photograph of the sky each day for a year. The photographs were printed on matte paper and read as small paintings or washes of color.

The work referenced time passing but also a sense of belonging to place. It wasn't landmarks or distinguishing characteristics that made the piece from a particular place but rather the commitment to notice and record one moment of each day. It is a very intimate way to connect to a place in a small scale and relatively short time period. What was interesting to me was how powerful the accumulation of this simple gesture was.

I like that as a goal - to choose one thing to notice and to record it regularly. The collection of data will automatically track changes and in the cyclical nature of change reveal patterns. Maybe I'll start with the spring equinox, balanced between dark and light - a natural new year.