"Most of the world's work," said Winston Churchill, "is done by people who don't feel very well." Which suggests, by logical extension, that much of Maine's work must be getting done right now, in these early weeks of not-quite-winter, when viruses in their trillions swirl like macro-molecular clouds through stuffy offices and classrooms.
The charming older lady behind me in the express line (14 items or less) was lugging a gallon jug of milk, so I scooched my stuff over to make room for her. "Those things get heavy after a while, don't they?" I said.
"And cold!" she replied, plopping it on the conveyor.
Bellydance, a dance form originating in the Middle East, has shimmied its way up to Maine, where Portland is the center of a welcoming community of dancers. Salt student Andrea Muraskin dropped in at an event called Raqs Borealis, which is held every two months at North Star Music Cafe in Portland's East End (note: The North Star Music Cafe has closed since the taping of this piece).
Shirtsleeve weather, days before Halloween. Who would have believed it? That's item one.
Item two: The morning DJ on the local community radio station, WERU, played a set of decent music that lasted all the way through my 25-minute commute to Rockland. I'd put an exclamation point here but it might detract from the serious tone of this blog.
Contra-dance is "like taking a jag of happy pills." - Edie Konesni
Belfast, Maine -- Once monthly, contra-dancers flock from across the Northeast to The Belfast Flying Shoes dance series. Chrissy Fowler, who organizes the event, starts the evening as a caller alongside an impromptu All Comers Band. October's special guest, Elixir, adds an exciting twist to traditional contra-dance music with their full horn section.
Producer: Carolyn Barnwell
Photography: Noah Fowler
On that day, October 20, people around the country (and I would guess, thanks to the Internet, around the world) participated in a nearly spontaneous display of social consciousness by the simple act of wearing purple.
On Thursday, with a nor'easter approaching, I took a drive that I take more days than not, back and forth between Lincolnville Beach, where I live, and the village of Lincolnville Center. On the return trip I made a video.
Do opposites attract? This is the story of a Buxton, Maine couple, Theodore Carter and Gregory Bembry, who bond together by sparring over politics.
A short (2:15) video by Tucker Walsh
The Salt institute of Documentary Studies: At Salt, we train aspiring writers, radio producers, and photographers in the art of documentary storytelling — creating thought-provoking, richly worded stories. In the process, our students struggle to find their own voice, learn to sit comfortably with discomfort, and to ask hard questions not only of the people they document, but also of themselves. After 15 weeks, we graduate working professionals who recognize the complexity and subjectivity of truth.
I never leave Maine. I don't see the point of it. And what's odd about this is that I don't think of myself as an insular sort of person, or a small-town person, though on the evidence that's what I am. Or at any rate what I've become.