“There’s a sunrise and a sunset every single day, and they’re absolutely free. Don’t miss so many of them.” – Jo Walton
Easter Sunday Sunset
Northern Minnesota
Iceout
Iceout is happening.
In the North, we stand on the shore in spring and yearn, with a visceral longing, for a break in the smooth white face of the lakes. All winter, they have been a study of white, defined by the absence of blue.
As my acquaintance, former National Geographic magazine photographer and writer, Jeff Rennicke says so well, winter iceover is like an “annual sensory deprivation experience—the specter of negative space—a long, white poem of silent syllables.”
Now, that silence has been broken. As I stand on the frozen grass of our cabin lakeshore, air bubbles underneath the ice gurgle and emit otherworldly moans like the cries of a mystical animal. Blowing wind shifts the ice and I watch cracks form in the thin nearshore skim.
As Rennicke says, soon the ice will crinkle and clash, ringing like bells. Leads of open water will scroll across the blank white page like exuberant cursive. The lakes will awaken, announcing again the spin of the planets, the truth of the changing seasons.
No, the world hasn’t frozen permanently. Spring is coming once again to the North. And it is written in the iceout.
AI and Winter
He who marvels at the beauty of the world in summer will find equal cause for wonder and admiration in winter. — John Burroughs
I’ve been circling artificial intelligence for a while now, like it’s a dangerous wounded animal. When AI results first showed up for my Google searches, they were pretty bad. But I’ve got to admit, the responses to my esoteric search queries (like “Literary quotes about Minnesota winters”) have gotten better lately. I guess the beast is learning.
Some high school students recently asked me if I used AI in my writing. I told them that I don’t, and that I can tell when blog posts are created with AI because the writing is generic. However, I admitted that I have considered using AI to generate ideas.
Today, I took the plunge on the idea front because I didn’t have a good winter quote already in my head. I typed in that search term above about Minnesota winters. This came back: While there might not be a specific literary quote explicitly mentioning “Minnesota winter,” quotes that capture the essence of a harsh, snowy, and solitary winter landscape could be applied to a Minnesota winter experience.
In the spirit of full disclosure, one of the quotes from my search is at the beginning of this post. Maybe AI isn’t so bad? And while I’m disclosing everything right now, I might as well say that my photo editing software uses AI to enhance images. I used it on the images that accompany this post, except for the bottom one. The photography teacher who introduced me to this software said that cameras can’t capture everything our eyes see. The editing software brings the photos closer to that ideal. I admit to loving the subtle changes the software makes to the original image. I’m not going to disclose what that software is here, however. I need to keep some secrets to myself. 😊
But I don’t want this post to be about AI. I want it to be about winter. I took these photos at our cabin, which is on a small lake in northern Minnesota. The sun was setting as Russ and I cooked dinner. As with this summer sunset from a few years ago, I had to neglect cooking duties to run outside and capture the light before it disappeared. Luckily, earlier in the day we’d gone snowshoeing and had packed a path down to the lake through the deep snow. I was able to pop on my Sorrels and jog through the cold to the frozen lakeshore with ease.
As I snapped a few photos, I marveled at the still, white landscape and the way the sun tinged the small ridges of snow collected on the lake a dull orange. My camera couldn’t capture those ridge colors very well, but AI helped bring them out a bit.
Normally, we’d be travelling somewhere beachy and warm this time of year to soak up the sun and Vitamin D. We decided not to do that this winter because I am . . . drumroll . . . retiring this spring. I only have two-and-a-half weeks of workdays left! I have too many projects to wrap up before then for a vacation. We are saving our beachy-warm trip for this May.
It’s been good, so far, to stick out the winter here this year. We’ve ridden the temperature swings, complained with our neighbors about the cold, shoveled roughly a ton of snow off our cabin deck, and gotten out cross-country skiing for the first time since the winter of 2022-23. (The snow conditions were too poor after that.) Besides, if we travelled to where the temperature is eighty degrees, we’d have to worry about sunburning our Minnesota-white skin, and then reacclimatizing once we got off the plane. I have not-so-fond memories of walking to our car in the Minneapolis airport parking lot without winter coats or gloves in minus-ten-below temps, since we left our winter outerwear in the car.
To sum it all up: I’m enjoying winter in Minnesota, and I’ve prodded the AI beast. Maybe it’s friendly?
My Book Comes out this Week!
My collection of shorts stories, “The Path of Totality,” is being published this week by Cornerstone Press. It will still be on sale for a few more days for 20% off until the publication date, which is Feb. 11. You can order it from Cornerstone here.
I’m having a launch event Feb. 18th, 6:30 p.m., at one of my favorite cafes in Duluth—Wussow’s Concert Cafe. It’s being hosted by Zenith Bookstore. I’ll also be doing a reading/signing at Foxes and Fireflies Bookstore in Superior on March 1 from 1-3 p.m. If you’re in the area, please stop by!
Noted Superior, Wisconsin, author, Carol Dunbar is helping me with the Feb. 18th event. She is way more well-known than I am, having had two books published by a national publisher. She was nice enough to write a blurb for my book, which appears on its cover. She was also nice enough to volunteer for a question and answer discussion with me of our books and careers. We deal with many of the same themes in our writing, so it should be a cool event!
“Booklist,” which caters to libraries, recently reviewed “The Path of Totality.” Here’s what they said:
Love, in its numerous forms: romantic, parental, devotional, inspirational, and desperate, has a lingering presence in Zhuikov’s collection of tales. The title story describes a young couple’s emotional struggles after the devastating loss of a premature baby boy. While viewing the 2017 total solar eclipse, healing suddenly sprouts as something “flipped a reset switch” inside the wife. “Bog Boy” is a comically creepy tale illustrating that love truly has no limits. A teenage girl discovers the long-dead body of a young man entombed by peat in the woods, and the preserved corpse becomes her de facto boyfriend. “The Shower Singer” is a feel-good story about an aspiring musician who receives more than just a much-needed jolt of creativity when he hears a woman in the adjacent apartment singing lovely melodies in the shower. Other characters include a sleuthing widow obsessed with the strangeness of a house who ultimately pays a steep price for her curiosity, a hungry alien life form that stalks a college student in Biosphere 2, and a reference librarian with an extraordinary connection to sentient trees.
Finding Your Voice Through Writing
Last week, I had the privilege of hearing a nationally known poet read at a local college. Kimiko Hahn was flown out from New York City by the college’s English Department to be part of its annual Rose Warner Reading Series. The college brings in a poet for a day who performs a morning reading and discussion with local high school students and an evening reading for the public. After the morning reading, the students break into groups where a “Northland Writer of Distinction” talks to them about writing and how to find their voice through it.
I was one of three so-called writers of distinction. The other two were Sheila Packa, a former Duluth Poet Laureate, and Nick Trelstad, a published poet and high school English teacher. Having never done this event before, I was a bit nervous. Both the other writers were repeaters; they were also both wearing plaid. I had not received that memo! But now I know in case I get invited back.
I was not familiar with Hahn’s poetry, so I was looking forward to hearing her read for the students. Hahn’s mother died in a tragic car accident, so many of the poems she read in her soothing voice were about that. She also read political poems. But, since I am a science communicator, the ones that caught my attention most were pieces she wrote based on science stories in the New York Times. Hahn commented that she’s bad at science but is fascinated by it, especially entomology (bug science). She often takes a science news story and makes it into poetry. She does this through typical fashion but also using a technique called erasure poetry.
This was a new one on me. In erasure poetry, which began in 1965, writers take an existing text – like a newspaper story or the Declaration of Independence – and blackout or erase words to create a poem. Sometimes they leave the words in their original formatting (with lots of blank space in between) or sometimes they reformat them. Visual artists use the technique, too. Hahn read the students her poem, “Erasing Love.” Then she asked them to figure out what original article’s topic was. Several students mentioned that it was a science or medical story, but I think everyone was surprised when Hahn said it was about a giant fish called an oarfish and that the professor studying it had the last name of Love. (At the end of her poem, she links to the original article.) I enjoy creating found poems (like this one based on Chinese scooter instructions) so I’m definitely going to try erasure poetry sometime soon.
Hahn’s poems delved into grief, love, and science, often containing subtle and not-so-subtle humor. She said she gains inspiration from writing prompts and that she writes as an outlet for her opinions and rambunctiousness. Her reading persona is not rambunctious, but during the q & a afterward, more of her personality shone through.
Then the students were split into groups with their respective local writer. Hahn was a tough act to follow! For my presentation, I told the students about my professional and creative writing careers. The students were from the same high school that I went to, and I wanted to show them that a career in writing is possible. I described my books and talked about how this blog helped me find my voice. I read them two posts that offer good examples of opinion writing, which I can’t do either in my day job or my novels. These were “The Jayme Closs Case and the Importance of News Headlines,” and “The Christmas City of the North Parade: Socially Sanctioned Child Abuse or Festive Community Event?”
There was no clock in the room. For the first group of students I spoke with, I blathered on about myself for so long, I ran out of time to read the Jayme Closs story, but I made up for that with the second group.
A few writer nerds were in the audience and asked good questions. After my talk, one girl introduced me to Dark Romance. If you haven’t heard of it, either, Dark Romance features kink and violence – darker themes that don’t sound all that romantic to me. I don’t think I’ll be pursuing it in any way.
My main points to the students were to write what they enjoy without worrying about what other people will think, to practice, and get feedback from people they trust. Of course, I encouraged them to start blogs since it’s a good way to practice and to get feedback from a supportive community.
Have you found that your blog is a good way to develop your writing voice?
On the Edge
I snapped this while waiting for an appointment at my clinic. (Just a routine appointment.) I spent my time watching the progression of these window washers who were working on the hospital across the way. As you can see, the window that I took the picture out of could also use a wash. Maybe our building was next?
Their job was impressive not only due to the height but because it’s the dead of winter . . . in Duluth. That’s Lake Superior below/behind them. It was a calm, sunny day but nowhere near warm.
Everyone who walked through the waiting room and noticed the workers stopped to admire their bravery and derring-do. I don’t think any of us would have traded places, however.
Bob Dylan, Revisited
If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you may recall that I’ve written two other posts about Bob Dylan. Thus, the name of this post. Here’s another one!
I watched two Bob Dylan movies recently. The first, “A Complete Unknown,” inspired me to watch the second, “No Direction Home,” so I could get a better picture of the famous singer who spent his early years in my part of the world. I’m glad I watched both.
Of course, the first movie is the one that’s out in theaters now. It features Timothée Chalamet, the dishy French-American actor who portrays Dylan in his early years. Based on the book, “Dylan Goes Electric,” by Elijah Wald, the story begins with Dylan “escaping” his college experience at the University of Minnesota and traveling to New York City to meet his folk music hero, Woodie Guthrie, who was hospitalized with a neurological illness. Another folkie, Pete Seeger, takes Dylan under his wing, and his rise to stardom begins.
I liked that the story was told mainly through music; this was much more effective than a lot of talking. Chalamet’s portrayal of Dylan is superb as are the performances by the two actresses who portray his love interests from that time: Elle Fanning who plays his girlfriend Suze Rotolo/Sylvie Russo, and Monica Barbaro who plays singer Joan Baez. It helped me understand the pressures Dylan was under as a person and an artist. Even Dylan, who was an executive producer for the movie, liked it, so that’s saying something!
The movie concludes with Dylan’s performance in 1965 at the Newport Folk Festival, where he was backed by an electric band. The audience of folk purists and political activists reacted badly, with booing and shouts. Some people just couldn’t handle that something they loved had changed. As Google says, his performance, “was a shot heard round the world—Dylan’s declaration of musical independence, the end of the folk revival, and the birth of rock as the voice of a generation—and one of the defining moments in twentieth-century music.” There are still people who are upset by what they perceive as Dylan’s turning his back on acoustic folk music and political activism.
As I mentioned, “A Complete Unknown” left me wanting to know more, so I watched “No Direction Home,” a 2005 documentary by Martin Scorsese that’s available through PBS. It follows Dylan’s life for a year longer than the current movie, and features in-person interviews with Dylan, poet Allen Ginsberg, Suze Rotolo, Joan Baez, and Pete Seeger.
Seeing/hearing Dylan describe events from his life in his own words was so interesting! According to Wikipedia, the movie was well-received. It “creates a portrait that is deep, sympathetic, perceptive and yet finally leaves Dylan shrouded in mystery, which is where he properly lives.”
So, if like me, you found yourself wanting more after watching “A Complete Unknown,” I highly recommend “No Direction Home.” It helped me understand why there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that Dylan will ever come back to Duluth no matter how we try to honor him. (The city has named a street after him, but he didn’t show up, much to the city’s dismay. He didn’t even show up for his Nobel Prize; he sure isn’t going to come back to Duluth!) We need to just leave the man alone.
Also, Suze Rotolo wrote a memoir about her time with Dylan, titled, “A Freewheelin’ Time,” which I plan to read someday.
I still remain happy that I’m not famous like Dylan. See my blog post from 2017 that explains why. Have you seen “A Complete Unknown?” If so, I’d love to hear your thoughts about the movie.
Merry Solstice!
Having Fun with Trolls
Russ and I went to one of those outdoor Christmas villages for this first time last weekend. It was in Knife River, which is about 20 miles north of us along the shore of Lake Superior. The village is called Julebyen (pronounced YOOL-eh-BE-en), which (appropriately) means Christmas village in Norwegian. The quaint former fishing village that it’s located in has Norwegian roots. Proceeds from the event support the community.
Julebyen features ethnic foods (like lefse and krumkake), crafts, holiday decorations, and music. There are also food trucks from local eateries. A train brings visitors up from Duluth and Christmas-themed buses travel from the Twin Cities. We quickly learned that the event is HUGE. Lots of people and lots of fun. Shopping takes place in outdoor stalls and indoors under a couple of large tents. There are candles, pottery, clothing, teas, notecards, wooden sleds, fish, wreaths, honey, jewelry, mittens and honey.
My favorite thing, however, were the trolls. Two men in costume posed for photos and make troll-like comments and jokes with passersby. As you can see, I took advantage of the photo op. In Scandinavian folklore, trolls are supernatural creatures who are dangerous, evil, and hostile to humans. These ones weren’t, though. Trolls are thought to be able to transform themselves, offer prophesies, and steal human maidens. When exposed to sunlight, they explode or turn to stone. This is helpful to know if you ever meet one. Also helpful to know is that lightning kills them instantly.
The village also offered a sledding hill, but there wasn’t enough snow yet for that. I’m glad we got to enjoy Julebyen and get into the holiday spirit. I think it’s helping us through some hard times. I just learned by happenstance that my friend Yooper Duane died this year, on my birthday, no less. He was a special soul. We met on Isle Royale National Park in Lake Superior when I was in college and corresponded for years. I’d make a point of visiting him when I traveled across Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. The last time we touched base was by phone when I was on Isle Royale a couple of years ago. He was impressed by the phone call, since such contact was not technologically possible when we both worked on the island. Duane died at the ripe old age of 80. I’ll miss him!
Also, this week a family member was hospitalized. That’s all I’ll say about it to preserve this person’s privacy. But it’s a stressful situation that’s difficult for everyone.
Be sure to give your loved ones a hug this holiday season. You never know what the future holds.
Marie’s Meanderings in Photos
This week, I set up my second-ever public photo display at a local whole foods coop in Duluth, MN. I was selected for this opportunity months ago, so it’s been a long wait. I’m not the most patient of people, so this was very hard!
Unlike with my first display up the North Shore of Lake Superior in Grand Marais, I couldn’t just drop off my images (or my babies, as I like to think of them) and go. This time, I had to figure out how they would be hung. I wasn’t quite prepared for this but would like to think I rose to the occasion. I fell back on a technique I used to use for making informational display boards at work: begin with a major image and work outward.
We began with the largest image, a canvas print of stones leading into Lake Superior, which I call “The Path to Enlightenment.” Then we hung smaller images outside of it. They’re all photos I’ve taken during my meanderings. Some have been featured in this blog. I was pleased with the result, and I loved the faux gray hardwood backing they rest against.
For readers in the area, my display will be up at the Denfeld Coop (4426 Grand Avenue) for the month of November. They are for sale. If you’re interested, my contact info is on an artist statement that’s posted to the right of the images.
If you’d like to see more of my photos, please visit my website and pick a category, or two!
Marie's Meanderings 