I totally understand the desire to grasp at "the nearly unreachable past", as you describe it. I think it's why I too love to read old books -- I love Lucy Maud Montgomery, Jane Austen, The Brontës, and I'm currently working my way through Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, go to Shakespeare plays, sing hymns even though I'm not religious, or look at old photographs of my parents, grandparents, great grandparents. It makes me feel connected to a lineage of humanity -- to know I'm laughing at something my great grandfather probably laughed at in a popular novel, to know I'm gasping at the same moment in Hamlet as 500 years of theatregoers before me. I feel embedded in history rather than its cresting wave.
You writing about kin-keeping is so profound and moving. I've always wondered about how to work my own history into my art and your practice inspires me. Thank you for your deeply personal, uncommercial, love-filled work ❤️.
I love the idea of being embedded in the wave of history rather than in its created wave. That’s how I feel. I want my ancestors and writers like Jane Austen to have their arms around me. I want to be in an ongoing conversation with them. Your comment gives me so much encouragement for my further music-making. Thank you, Isabelle. I made a reel on Instagram based on my walk today and our conversation about Braiding Sweetgrass. I don’t know if your on Instagram or facebook, but you can see it here. You inspired me! https://www.instagram.com/reel/C-KtezSo5iG/?igsh=M3ljZG9reXJvMmt4
I love that, to feel as though we are being embraced by our ancestors, one thread in the great fabric of being. I just saw the reel and I loved the passage you chose alongside all those beautiful wild beings 🥹
As you know your music and your writing always triggers memories. I was born in a coal mining town in south Wales. When I first heard you sing about the dark it brought back memories of my family and in talking with my mother discovered a great uncle died in a mining accident which led his brother to emigrate to Canada to escape the life. I wish I knew more.
I love "kin-keeping" and your reminiscing. And I've probably told you a million times but Fair and Tender Ladies is in my top ten favorite books ever. I need to get me a new copy and re-read it, because it's been awhile. My husband has been going through boxes of old photos from his family and we have no idea who anybody is! How we wish we'd asked more questions of our relatives when they were still alive--such a common lament.
Oh!!! I’m so excited that you love Fair & Tender Ladies, too! I should re-read it, too, so that I can experience that difference I feel when reading something twenty years later! Hugs to you, Charlotte.
Love this, Jeni! I so resonate with your description of finding those unidentifiable people in boxes of old photos. My paternal grandmother’s family were city people in WV, and they took lots of photos of the oddest things - much like we do now, I suppose. So many people I wonder about! The extended family was quite large, so they could be unknown relatives, or friends together on an outing. My mom’s family were very rural, so photos were rare, and pretty much always a family member, which makes those extra intriguing! Who were they? What was the fabric of their lives? So many photos are digital now, I wonder if my grandchild will ever have memories like the photo boxes? Thanks for this journey!❤️
I often wish they’d taken more photos of their houses or the land, but then I realize that the film and developing was expensive, so they concentrated on people. I’m glad I remembered to take picture of our car today when we sold it. It just had too many miles to feel reliable for long trips. I love what you say here about how or who will enjoy our photos in the future! Huge hugs to you.
I think you’ll find this really evocative! Photographer Annette LeMay Burke’s parents died within a few months of each other, and she projected old photos she found onto the location in their house where the events originally occurred and took new photos.
I totally understand the desire to grasp at "the nearly unreachable past", as you describe it. I think it's why I too love to read old books -- I love Lucy Maud Montgomery, Jane Austen, The Brontës, and I'm currently working my way through Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, go to Shakespeare plays, sing hymns even though I'm not religious, or look at old photographs of my parents, grandparents, great grandparents. It makes me feel connected to a lineage of humanity -- to know I'm laughing at something my great grandfather probably laughed at in a popular novel, to know I'm gasping at the same moment in Hamlet as 500 years of theatregoers before me. I feel embedded in history rather than its cresting wave.
You writing about kin-keeping is so profound and moving. I've always wondered about how to work my own history into my art and your practice inspires me. Thank you for your deeply personal, uncommercial, love-filled work ❤️.
Also, I meant you’re instead of your. 😬
I meant embedded in history, as you say, but my typing got the better of me ☺️
I love the idea of being embedded in the wave of history rather than in its created wave. That’s how I feel. I want my ancestors and writers like Jane Austen to have their arms around me. I want to be in an ongoing conversation with them. Your comment gives me so much encouragement for my further music-making. Thank you, Isabelle. I made a reel on Instagram based on my walk today and our conversation about Braiding Sweetgrass. I don’t know if your on Instagram or facebook, but you can see it here. You inspired me! https://www.instagram.com/reel/C-KtezSo5iG/?igsh=M3ljZG9reXJvMmt4
I love that, to feel as though we are being embraced by our ancestors, one thread in the great fabric of being. I just saw the reel and I loved the passage you chose alongside all those beautiful wild beings 🥹
I love how you can distil a story into seven verses of song. Like making perfume but for ears (instead of behind them).
Thank you for this, India.
As you know your music and your writing always triggers memories. I was born in a coal mining town in south Wales. When I first heard you sing about the dark it brought back memories of my family and in talking with my mother discovered a great uncle died in a mining accident which led his brother to emigrate to Canada to escape the life. I wish I knew more.
Shan which town was that? Hugs to you.
Oh, Shan that's made me cry. How incredibly delicate life is.
I love "kin-keeping" and your reminiscing. And I've probably told you a million times but Fair and Tender Ladies is in my top ten favorite books ever. I need to get me a new copy and re-read it, because it's been awhile. My husband has been going through boxes of old photos from his family and we have no idea who anybody is! How we wish we'd asked more questions of our relatives when they were still alive--such a common lament.
Oh!!! I’m so excited that you love Fair & Tender Ladies, too! I should re-read it, too, so that I can experience that difference I feel when reading something twenty years later! Hugs to you, Charlotte.
Love this, Jeni! I so resonate with your description of finding those unidentifiable people in boxes of old photos. My paternal grandmother’s family were city people in WV, and they took lots of photos of the oddest things - much like we do now, I suppose. So many people I wonder about! The extended family was quite large, so they could be unknown relatives, or friends together on an outing. My mom’s family were very rural, so photos were rare, and pretty much always a family member, which makes those extra intriguing! Who were they? What was the fabric of their lives? So many photos are digital now, I wonder if my grandchild will ever have memories like the photo boxes? Thanks for this journey!❤️
I often wish they’d taken more photos of their houses or the land, but then I realize that the film and developing was expensive, so they concentrated on people. I’m glad I remembered to take picture of our car today when we sold it. It just had too many miles to feel reliable for long trips. I love what you say here about how or who will enjoy our photos in the future! Huge hugs to you.
https://atelierlemay.com/memory-building/index.html
I think you’ll find this really evocative! Photographer Annette LeMay Burke’s parents died within a few months of each other, and she projected old photos she found onto the location in their house where the events originally occurred and took new photos.
That is SO beautiful, Carol. Thank you for telling me about this ♥️