Maine is gorgeous. Maine is large. If you think the world is small, I invite you to drop yourself off, deep in the woods Up North, and wait for nightfall.
I’m drawn to the toughness of Maine. Both in its natural state and within its industrial towns that have been slightly forgotten. Much like my home town of Turner’s Falls in Western, MA. (Gill actually.) I love these towns. I’m proud of them. I see potential even in the crumbling buildings. But let us not pretend that Maine isn’t a snow globe. Because it really is. My Western, MA friends- I owe you one of these articles. It’s coming.
All photo’s taken by me. I’m no photographer. I just point and click at things.
Ps, I wrote a short story. That story became self published, thanks to my wife Megan. If interested you can read reviews or read the story via the amazon link below. Cheers.
‘You cannot dissect for emotion,’ Doc went on. ‘If a human body were found by another species and dissected, there would be no possible way of knowing about its emotions or its thoughts.’ John Steinbeck. Sweet Thursday.
I write in my books. I rip corners off pages. It’s been a long while since I read this book. It didn’t take a long while to find one of my favorite lines.
Watch as I take the trash out. My slippers are beaten and beautiful. I came from a shack much like a house. I smile. The heads wobble and click as I walk; my appearance. It isn’t much. My gums mash side to side and my eyes water. But I walk to the dumpster anyway.
Lie your broken bones here –
See the sun going down – just now brushing the tops of the New England Pines
Cry for yourself and your fears – Feel your own bones
It’s fine – Dream of truer days, you never helped, and will not see