I grew up in Seattle and though I love the rural paradise where I live now, the city still lures me. I crave the buzz of energy and the visual stimulation of architecture and art. Most of the time, after visiting Seattle, I ask myself why I don’t live there.
But I know why.
Last week I attended a Wayzgoose, which is a letterpress printing event, at the Seattle School of Visual Concepts. They were steam roller printing giant posters and selling various letterpress tools, type and finished art work. I drank in the music and the frenzy of artists working their medium…bought some beautiful postcards, poetry and bookmarks.
After the Wayzgoose, I travelled to Pioneer Square to visit the galleries and after an hour, I felt extremely tired… and thirsty… hungry in a non food way. Not energized. A sporting event emptied waves of people into the square and I allowed myself to be carried along until I reached my car. It was a welcome womb. And all I could think about was getting to the water.
Shilshole Bay is an old haunt from my sailing days and I found the last parking spot at the water’s edge… facing the Olympic Mountains. That familiar salt air filled me… quenched my thirst… fed my hunger. After jotting a few thoughts in my journal, I snoozed awhile, then woke up recharged, ready to go dancing.
There is an old grocery store adage about healthy eating: shop the perimeter. Visiting Seattle’s shoreline rejuvenated me. But I was equally happy to return home. My city/country dilemma considers the merits of each. The city is stimulating. The country is calm. When I ask which I would rather visit, the answer is easy.
The prairie undulates
beneath the passion
of the wind,
arching her grasses
to its glorious touch,
her emerald hands
to sprawl in her lap
and let her supple fingers