it is, but it is home
a note on the piece
Last month, I had the privilege of collaborating with two incredible artists, musician Enoch Leung and photographer Gaute Lorentsen, and I’m so excited to share the collaboration with you!
In response by Gaute’s photograph, Enoch wrote a stunning piece to accompany the photo, and asked me if I would write a poem to accompany the two. Inspired by the images of the Nordic landscape, and the concept of naming a place as your home, we thought about what a bold risk it is claiming a piece of earth as one’s own. These are not only our places of birth, but the many places we discover as we travel this wild, generous world and choose to leave a piece of our heart behind. I think to all of the places I have thought of as home—my yellow room with the window seat, the shell-covered beach in Lincoln City, the window-filled theater in Wheaton, Illinois, the tiny room in the top corner of the Highbury in London, the long stretch of sand on the shores of Half Moon Bay, the hills in the Santa Teresa Nature Preserve, the rocky banks of the Boise River. What risk it is to fracture our heart into pieces as we fall in love with the Earth beneath our feet, and what bittersweet joy fills those cracks! As I wrote, I kept thinking: what does it mean for our own heart, when we choose to use that messy and complicated and wonderful name, home?
What comes up inside, for you? What places have you dared to call home?
As you listen and read, I hope you are not only transported to the beautiful place in the photo, but you are also given space to remember and honor the places you yourself have called home.
it is, but it is home
I float, tethered and wait
in the wild darkness
for the clouds to dance
to that native humming
of the earth beneath
my feet. In that quaking, a quiet
mystery of hidden things
tucked away in
the soul of the rocks who remember
the stories I have forgotten—
of icy depths where creatures
hide beneath the stones;
of the jagged and cavernous walls
of the beloved mountains, of the lonely
white-tailed eagle grown still
above the wandering cliffs,
the echo of the old
song resonating
like a gentle invitation
through the wide expanse
of everything
to stay and
name it home. For more by these amazing artists, visit the following pages:
Gaute Lorentsen: @gautelorentsen
Enoch Leung: @whatenochleung, Enoch Leung Youtube
