On this crisp lovely July morning in the fir-wood, I am very pleased to share with you all that a long and magical tale of mine, called "Else This, Nothing Ever Grows," is now up for all to read at
Beneath Ceaseless Skies. This story is full of grizzlies, Sierra Nevada peaks, strange geologic trolls...
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Chiura Obata, Upper Lyell Fork, 1930
I love Obata's dreaming-crisp Japanese-style paintings of the Sierras.
They truly capture the magic of the alpine slopes and shadows.
The aliveness of stone. |
I wrote this story over a year ago, in scraps of early, dark mornings while working at a publishing company. It was the only time of day I had to write, with my black tea and milk cradled in my lap, and it was delicious. So I have a great soft spot for this wild story set in the cold-tipped Sierras, as it was this ribbon, blue and velvet, through all my mornings. It is a re-telling of East of the Sun, West of the Moon, the polar bear turned to a grizzly... About a year ago
I posted a clip of myself reading the beginning of the story, which then I imagined making into a puppet show. Who knows, maybe I still will, in some fashion!
Anyhow,
do pop over and enjoy!
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