An Interview with Anna Shelton

Q2: It’s obvious from your work that nature, and the Pacific Northwest, are hugely inspiring to you. Why is that, and what else inspires you?
A2: I attribute the awakening to a few challenging hikes and camping trips in the Olympic Peninsula and North Cascades. I remember returning from those trips completely exhausted and glad to be home, but somehow feeling a shift in my consciousness. To immerse yourself in nature for a extended period of time is truly revelatory. It definitely changed the way I look at my surroundings. As for other things that inspire me, there’s just no way to name only a few, so I’m trying to think of a characteristic they all have in common. I guess I’m attracted and inspired by anything that has soul or an emotional warmth of feeling. How vague! Ha.
 
Read the complete interview here.

 

(from the album 'SONGS OF LEONARD COHEN')


It's true that all the men you knew were dealers
who said they were through with dealing
Every time you gave them shelter
I know that kind of man
It's hard to hold the hand of anyone
who is reaching for the sky just to surrender
who is reaching for the sky just to surrender.

And then sweeping up the jokers that he left behind
you find he did not leave you very much not even laughter
Like any dealer he was watching for the card
that is so high and wild
he'll never need to deal another
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger
He was just some Joseph looking for a manger.

And then leaning on your window sill
he'll say one day you caused his will
to weaken with your love and warmth and shelter
And then taking from his wallet
an old schedule of trains, he'll say
I told you when I came I was a stranger
I told you when I came I was a stranger.

But now another stranger seems
to want you to ignore his dreams
as though they were the burden of some other
O you've seen that man before
his golden arm dispatching cards
but now it's rusted from the elbows to the finger
And he wants to trade the game he plays for shelter
Yes he wants to trade the game he knows for shelter.

Ah you hate to watch another tired man
lay down his hand
like he was giving up the holy game of poker
And while he talks his dreams to sleep
you notice there's a highway
that is curling up like smoke above his shoulder
and suddenly you feel a littlt older

You tell him to come in sit down
but something makes you turn around
The door is open you can't close your shelter
You try the handle of the road
It opens do not be afraid
It's you my love, you who are the stranger
It's you my love, you who are the stranger.

Well, I've been waiting, I was sure
we'd meet between the trains we're waiting for
I think it's time to board another
Please understand, I never had a secret chart
to get me to the heart of this
or any other matter
When he talks like this
you don't know what he's after
When he speaks like this,
you don't know what he's after.

Let's meet tomorrow if you choose
upon the shore, beneath the bridge
that they are building on some endless river
Then he leaves the platform
for the sleeping car that's warm
You realize, he's only advertising one more shelter
And it comes to you, he never was a stranger
And you say ok the bridge or someplace later.

And then sweeping up the jokers that he left behind ...

And leaning on your window sill ...

I told you when I came I was a stranger.

satori \suh-TOHR-ee\, noun:

In Zen Buddhism, the state of sudden indescribable intuitive enlightenment.

mussitate \MUHS-i-teyt\, verb:

To silently move the lips in simulation of audible speech.