<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d33206271\x26blogName\x3dThe+Fine+Art+of+Falling+Apart\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dTAN\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://fineartoffallingapart.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://fineartoffallingapart.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d6081200608643811586', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

About

This is what it could look like when one completely deconstructs a life as one knows it, and how to build from the ground up. Alternatively, this is a fresh look at an old story. The fine art of falling apart.

Safe and Sound

The lights don’t go out until about 10 at night. I’ve been intending to write a real entry for about a week, but I figured that since I wasn’t around a reliable internet connection that I would wait until then to post.

But things have been running through my mind and I just feel like putting it down somewhere, no matter whether or not anyone else would ever read it. I figured I could be a private minded female version of Hemmingway, or Thoreau.

I’m in Hall Beach, Nunavut now. I’ve settled (mostly) into my new home and I seem to spend a lot of time looking out the windows at the other houses, the people walking by, the way the light hits the snow makes a white line of the horizon.

The one constant thing I’ve seem to cling to is the music I’ve been carrying with me. Pete Yorn in my ears, Matt Good, a song called Apple Orchard by a band called Beach. The music makes me a little home sick but at the same time, it’s comforting. It’s like hearing everything for the first time. Again. And again.

The weather is like a warm December. Light snow, a sun that seems to feel like it belongs on a Hawaiian beach then above the Arctic circle. It really is incredible to see and feel.

On my way to work, I listen to Safe and Sound by Hawksley Workman. I can picture the trees, the colour of the leaves, the way the sleepy towns look when you drive through...his music is so visual to me.

My plane rides were annoying (stewardess craziness) and I was travel-weary when I finally arrived in Hall Beach (I had spent a week in another community in Nunavut prior to getting here) and was tired of packing and unpacking. Unpacking my blankets for the last time (hopefully for awhile) is a very nice feeling.

One area of interest is the DEW line up here. Just google it and see what you come up with. I am now, your first line of defense...*grin*

Labels: , , , , , ,

You can leave your response or bookmark this post to del.icio.us by using the links below.
Comment | Bookmark | Go to end