the light here….
I’ve been on the road for the last two weeks working on site preparations for the Alaska Edition and connecting with friends and family in our hospitality craft. Most of my time was spent in Alaska with Susie and Evie traveling between Anchorage and Hesketh Island and meeting folks who we are building the Hesketh Island pop-up community with – potters and farmers and flower gardeners and sourdough craftsmen and community organizers and salt harvesters and textile artists and honestly, more amazing community and craftspeople than I could almost take in. And I can take in A LOT when it comes to fellow craft & trade folks.
but it was the light that got me.
i have a sentence in my notebook that says, “the light here is….” after which i think i drifted off into a drop-dead sleep after a day of meeting and seeing and smelling and imagining. and as i reviewed my notes and the sensations i experienced on our sweet nest site on the Island that we will host folks in, I still could not fill in the blank of what the light is there. It somehow feels warm and cool simultaneously. Inviting and boundaried. Often I had a hard time distinguishing whether it was morning or evening light. One that stirred me to dream while grounding me in reality.
I had a thought that a place that we host people (and cook and harvest salt and forage food and relax in the sauna on the beach and cure salmon roe and print on textiles and so many more activities of the body and imagination) that is held in that light will carry a magic that is completely unpredictable to my experience. I’m hungry for that magic.
Susie and Evie and I – and then Madeline and I on a phone call while I waited to fly back to the Lower 48 – spent so much time dreaming and planning for all of the people, both hospitality craftspeople and guests, that would join us in that light on Hesketh. It is one of my favorite practices of hosting – the preparation and anticipated holding of the people whose lives I have the privilege of participating with.
I’m sitting now back at home in Dunton, Colorado watching the light of the early sunset on our snow field and aspen hills. It has its own specific beauty and also feels kin to the light on Hesketh Island.
I like to think they are cousins living far apart but from the same source.
there are still guest openings to join us in the light on Hesketh this fall which you can discover here
the picture of the light in this post was taken by Susie Jenkins-Brito