Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Location: Piikani Reservation, Alberta

I feel my time here coming to an end. I feel spring fast approaching as the grass under my feet begins to show signs of green. Time truly does fly. It seems like only yesterday I met all these great people who have made this place my home, and yet already it has become so hard to leave.

I’ve been invited countless times to stay here as long as I want, or well into summer. The prospect is tempting, since with summer comes learning how to break horses with Morris, watching Rodeo, riding, Powwows, and the annual Sun Dance. Like everywhere, things come to life in the summer months.

But for me I’m heading south. If there’s one thing I’ve learned while here on the Little Wolf Ranch is take your time, and although that could apply to me staying longer, it also applies to the fact that, in time, I can always come back. This place has become another home to me, and it will be good come back home in a few years. To continue where I left off, since what I came here to learn is not informed over a matter of months, but slowly, over the course of a lifetime.

We’re taught in most of the western world to quickly grab a hold of knowledge and pack it away for later use. I’m learning to let go of these manmade timelines and grow at my own pace, with a long view of the world and all it’s mystery.

Peace,
d

p.s. I have some great pics that I'll be throwing up here soon, stay tuned.

Some pictures from my new friend Claire's camera.
1. Hiking At Beauvais Lake
Left to Right: Claire, Ken, Me and Dogs Tilly, Luke, Moses
2. Beauvais Lake Mtns
3. Cows, Windmills, Mtns
4. Road & Mtns
(All pics taken by Claire with the exception of #1 taken by Shar)

Sunday, March 18, 2007
Location: Piikani Reservation, Alberta

Last night Ken, Shar and I went to see that new movie 300 in Lethbridge. On the way to the film Ken and Shar made a few stops for some big city supplies that aren’t available in small town Pincher Creek. While they were running errands I sat in the car reading a book on the industrial revolution.

What I found interesting is how quickly things can change in our world. When the industrial revolution began, almost overnight people had to change their way of life. People from rural areas moved to cities in search of work. Small cottage industries that had been around for centuries were put out of business by large factories and industrial machinery. People who had relocated to cities were forced to work long hours at the mercy of the big business owners. Women and children also worked the machines that enabled industry growth. People, under economic pressure had been forced to exchange a simple slow-paced life out on the land for a fast and technologically complex life often living in crowded industrial city slums.

We’ve come a long way since then. Or have we? We’ve now built what seems to be a solid industrial machine, and as a result, our lives are seemingly good, comfortable and very stable. As long as we keep feeding the machine, it grows, and although we rarely question where it’s all going, growth is recognized as a very good thing.

This giant economic machine we’ve built is managed by hundreds of thousands of people all expert at making sure things go according to plan. But what is the plan? In the end I wonder if the machine’s survival has become our sole human purpose, and what lengths are we willing to go to ensure it lives on? Environmental destruction, human exploitation, global warming, war, terror, increasingly large gaps between the rich and the poor, are these some of the costs?

Or maybe it’s not about supporting an unsustainable machine, but instead about making adjustments to the mechanism to make it more sustainable and sane. Maybe we’re just in a transition phase, and maybe we can actually modify the model however we wish. To be honest I’m pretty skeptical, since I feel that just as throughout the history of human civilization, we have again found ourselves in a situation where the few are making self-serving decisions that are seriously impacting the lives of many. Throughout history this has always led to an eventual collapse. I don’t know if that’s where we’re headed, but I honestly feel that much of our civilization’s future is frankly out of our hands. It’s in the hands of big business and big government, the latter often heavily influenced by the former. Maybe the machine has become a monster, and maybe we're simply unable to stop feeding it, for fear of what it may do to us.

Or maybe most of humanity isn't even thinking about these things.

peace,
d

PS. This was supposed to be a blog on the movie 300. The film is pretty ultra-violent, and I always find it strange to see all these comfortable people, who have never known war, to be crowded into movie theatres thirsting after ultra-violent acts. I was once told by one of my professors that films often foreshadow the future. I hope it's not the case here. In that movie theatre seeing the audience's hunger for death and destruction, the old saying came to mind, be careful what you wish for. Or somehow, be careful, if you look for it, you may just find it.

Thursday, March 15, 2007
Location: Piikani Reservation, Alberta

This past week I’ve spent a lot of time herding cattle on horseback. I’m really finding my balance and strength on the back of a horse, but what I’ve found most interesting is that as long as I’m thinking, I’m not riding. It’s only when a single cow strays from the herd and I’m forced to take off after her that I stop thinking and start feeling. As I enter that state, the horse too stops thinking about me the rider, and only then, do we start working together. It’s as if the horse is telling me to get out of my mind, to use my intuition, to be natural. Morris has told me this a few times and only now am I getting it. Be natural.

The horse I ride is Joe. Joe’s Blackfoot name is Poka-Saqoi, meaning Little Bay Horse. He’s been a good teacher to me, I’m glad to be finding my place in the saddle with his help. He also forces me to be strong, to know myself, to sit up straight and tall, to ride with confidence. If I act weak, or if I allow myself to be undisciplined, Joe will take back his head, and show me who he is, and in doing so, somehow he will be showing me who I am supposed to be.

peace,
d

Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Location: Piikani Reservation, Alberta

I just want to provide a quick example of what I see as a progress trap. Since the very beginnings of agriculture humans have been collecting hay to feed their animals over long cold winters or during other periods where feed has become scarce.

We started with simple haystacks. We would cut our hay by hand and using pitchforks, stack this hay for later use. Then technology introduced us to the square bale. The square bale was recognized as progress, we could now easily stack our hay in easy to handle square bales. No more pitchforks. With the square bale we began to see a decreased dependence on manpower and an increasing dependence upon technological and fossil fuel power. More fuel-powered baling machines, more trucks with trailers, but still a large amount of brute physical labour.

Now here is where things have become interesting. It seems as I’ve been driving through most of Alberta, that square bales have now given way to large round bales. The round bale is great since you can unroll large amounts of hay when it’s time to feed. It’s that same idea, bigger is better, and instead of moving a large number of square bales, why not just move one large round bale. Sure, move one large 1300lb round bale, using technology of course.

So as you can see, we went from a simple system dependent on human-power, to a complex system dependent on technological power. The progress trap lies in the fact that without technology a round bale is virtually impossible to move. If you run out of fuel or if your feed truck breaks down, maybe the animals don’t get fed.

In the end you can always bust apart your round bale and break out the ol’ pitchfork, so we’re not facing the end of the world or anything. I’m just illustrating how everything in our world seems dependent upon technology, and eventually technology breaks down. If we’re not careful, elsewhere in our lives we may one day find ourselves left with a heavy load, and no way to lift it.

peace,
d

Friday, March 9, 2007
Location: Piikani Reservation, Alberta

Had a really good sweat last night: hot rocks, good prayers, good friends and good weather. While in the sweat lodge I was thinking about how good I’m feeling these days. I’ve been working on the ranch helping Morris dig postholes and build corrals and the good hard manual labour has left me feeling strong and balanced.

How I’m feeling started me thinking about a story I heard a few years ago when I was very heavily involved in martial arts.

There was a man who was a great practitioner of Aikido, until one day he was severely hurt. In being hurt he could no longer physically train, but instead of staying home, he would attend class a sit quietly on the mat while others practiced their technique. Weeks went by, and then months, until finally a student asked him why he kept attending class even though he was unable to train. The man told the student he was polishing the mirror.

For years he had trained physically and had become physically strong and proficient at Aikido technique. This was the time known as 'sharpening the sword', metal to the grindstone, he had been tempering his body into a beautiful instrument.

Being injured the time of physical training had encountered an abrupt pause. He found himself in deep emotional pain, frustrated by his new physical limitations. However, instead of being thrown off balance he decided to go to class and just sit.

In sitting, he began to look inwards. He explored the emotional source of his suffering, he dismantled old patterns that were long familiar, and he spent many classes getting in touch with his spirit. This was the time known as 'polishing the mirror'.

Here on the Piikani Reservation I’ve spent the last few months polishing the mirror. I’ve been working on my spirit and clearing away the grime in order to see myself anew. My Blackfoot family and my time within the sweat lodge have together been instrumental in this process of cleansing. Last night I felt myself reaching a new echelon of mental clarity and overall spiritual health, in this moment of transcendance came a deep calm. Everything is going well, and according to a greater plan.

Now it’s time, once again, to work at sharpening the sword. For me this involves hard physical training, working with my cameras, struggling for those hard to reach images, being my own workhorse, and hammering away at this long beautiful creative process.

peace,
d

1. Out at Little Wolf Ranch
2. Blogging
3. Moses and his good buddy Luke

Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Location: Piikani Reservation, Alberta

The plight of the self of the artist… is at least in part a historical phenomenon and not an essential property of being an artist … There may have been other times and other places, whether one wishes to call them an age of faith or an age of myth, in which men perceived a saving relationship to God, the Cosmos, the world, and each other. In such times the self did not feel displace, or if it did, it understood its displacement. The artist-writer did not… feel the same compulsion to assert his individual genius-self as would the artist today. It did not occur to the Chartres sculptor to sign his name on the toe of an apostle he had finished on the West Portal. (Or to the Lascaux Cave painter.)
- Walker Percy, Lost in the Cosmos

I’ve been reading excerpts from the book entitled, Coming to Our Senses, by Morris Berman, and have begun thinking about what it is that drives me as an artist. In Chapter Ten, Berman explores the role creativity plays for the artist, suggesting art is a process of tranquilizing inner conflict.

What are my personal conflicts?

I’m deeply dissatisfied with my society, our hunger for empty material wealth, and our incessant patterns of destruction. I guess that’s the big picture of why I’m out here… I’m unhappy with my reality and I want to work to change it, instead of just joining the good times while they last.

But, there are other reasons for why I’m out here. Before heading out on the road, I had a great community, a great family, a great job, a great house, a great truck, and a great garden. I had achieved greatness, but still somehow I was sad, lost, alone, and hungry.

I think a big part of what pushed me out of my previous world was a deep feeling of being trapped. Trapped by mainstream ideals that I didn’t necessarily agree with deep down in my own heart. Trapped by the very things that provided contentment. I think that’s the trick of this whole big fancy world we’ve built, to trap us in our patterns of desire and our sense of being unfulfilled. We struggle to achieve, we struggle to gain wealth, we struggle and struggle and struggle, and for what? What’s the point in struggling, if the cost is our happiness? I clearly can’t speak for everyone, since some people may honestly be content, but it wasn’t for me. I think regardless of the road we choose to travel in life the key is to recognize that our completeness invariably comes from within.

The other part of leaving has to do with family. I come from a family where, I think for the most part, I always did the right thing. I was the good son. I have a brother, one of my greatest teachers, who has always personified chaos. Therefore at the age of ten, I became order, the harmony-maker, something that I still carry with me to this day. I strive to create harmony; it’s built deep into me. Harmony, responsibility, and a need to be needed that so many of us carry. Although I love my family for who they have helped me become, a big part of this journey had to do with me leaving family and the roles and identities I grew up with behind.

A few years ago, my brother and I, who have always been close, spiritually collided into each other down in the desert of northern Nevada. Order & Chaos, Yin & Yang, Light & Dark. Through that process of collision, we almost left this world, parts of us did. Afterwards, we each walked away with pieces of the other. It’s now obvious to me that it’s only natural for order to be found within chaos, and for light and dark to be part of the same big picture. It’s all about becoming whole again and realizing that the universe is a paradoxical place.

I think I left to regain my balance.

These days, more and more I’m feeling at peace, less conflicted. I was telling Morris the other day that a big part of me is ready to go home. I’m not feeling the need to make this film to change things, to be right, or to solve some inner conflict anymore. I think that’s a good place to be as a filmmaker, to not create out of desire or righteousness. It allows the project to become larger than me as an individual, it brings the project into the realm of craftsmanship, and it enables me to get out of the way so the universe can work it’s magic.

… the creative insight is seen as a breakthrough, or erupt from, the unconscious. It is this eruption that generates the psychic split that demands to be healed, and that alters the personality structure so that the work of integration becomes self-expression. Traditional creativity would have to be different, since traditional societies tend, in varying degrees, to be swimming in the unconscious already. Hence there is nothing, or at least much less, to erupt.
- Morris Berman, Coming to Our Senses

Oh, and I'm not going home, not yet. This pilgrim has more road to travel.

peace,
d

Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Location: Piikani Reservation, Alberta

Looking at photos here at the ranch I’m thinking about how we’ve lost something in the transition to digital imagery. Here we’re looking at photos, whereas nowadays most people’s photos are captured on disk or hard drive, no longer tactile. We’ve literally lost touch with something through this transition, we’ve lost touch with memories made physical. I see a large gap created as all of these are subject to technological innovation and breakdown. Here today gone tomorrow.

As I was leaving on this journey, my assistant at the time Forbes Campbell, decided to clean up his laptop. In doing so, he lost two years worth of photos from his time teaching English in Korea. Man o' man was he hurting, all the way to Dawson City. These kinds of things don't really happen with 35mm. The downside is 35mm costs more, uses brutal chemicals, and isn't as instantaneously gratifying.

Still, I love film. I love the alchemical process. I love the tactility. I love sorting through piles of photographs, and remembering. I’m learning to love digital for a bunch of reasons, but I’m still and probably always will be, a film geek at heart.

peace,
d

P.S. Reflex camera cleaning tip: scotch tap. Wrap it sticky side out around your finger and get all that dirt, hair, dust and even fingerprints out of the inside of your gear.