So glad to be out at night

Today was the elementary school graduation of Adrian Delahunt. As the single graduate of our whole island you can imagine how proud we all are, not just of Adrian but of the rest of us. As I'm sure you know my brothers and my mother and Bob #1 (you know who you are) have been discussing (It's odd how often people say conversation, and argument when they mean discussion, isn't it?) Waldron vs City life. It's in this mood, after this momentous event in the life of a young boy of the island, that I'd like to write a few words myself.

The first thing I think of about life here is the social dynamic. Often people are shocked that a young woman of 16 could possibly survive without 5000 other teens in the same building as her. I always sort of splutter and change the subject, but here's the thing. There are only about 100 full time residents here. That's a tiny fraction of any usual high school and an even tinier fraction of that number are people who are even remotely young. What redeemes this small number of people to interact with, let alone hang out with or like, is that I KNOW each and every one of them. I can tell you what almost every person on this island is likely to be doing at any moment and who they are likely to be doing it with. This is the same kind of knowlege we can glean from animals in the wild: the understanding that there are people and animals out there with totally different agendas then our own, and they can still teach us stuff and that we can still love them. And of course there are those people we might never even have a chance to talk to or who we might reject because of their clothes or jobs and they turn out to understand us almost better than we do ourselves. It's this kind of understanding of the diversety of the human mind that I think helps to strengthen our own minds, to be more forgiving, and less judgemental.

Another thing I think of is the sense of time we earn here. As the rather snobbish child of nobility and old rich I am constanly aware of my ancestors and future decendents as a part of me. Coming from a prestigious family tree, I know that I am, so far at least, a mere twig. Living here in this small community on a small island is the same: each child knows the past of the children before them. We can see that everything we do will not only change the lives of other children but the lives of other children we are likely to know someday. Consequence, good or bad, is recognizable to us. This goes for the natural world as well. Not long ago there were deer and elk living here but we shot them all. Because we are isolated we not only know that it was us that killed them but that no more can ever live here unless we choose to put them here. Humans are very powerful yet we do not always know it. Living here we are forced to face our own impact.

Another thing is the hard philosophy that goes on every day, by what I think is a comparitively gigantic fraction of the population. Thought is valued here. There is a huge percentage of college educated people. In the world 1 out of every 100 people go to college, here about 80 in a 100 maybe. Not to say that college is what makes you smart but just that education is valued however you go about it.

I think people are philosophising and thinking up ideas all the time. I think the mark of the artist is not one who has ideas but one who sees that they have ideas. Small children are often fascinated by the borders of good and evil. Tonight I "slunk into the night as an evil fairy" with practically the entire elementary school. Last night I watched the Burn girls dress up as "the bad witch, fortune teller" and "the bad princess, fairy, tell truther." Teens too always seem to be thinking about the "great questions" "Why are we here?" "Who am I?" "What is it that makes people different?" "Is this love?" "What is death?" "What is life?" "What is art?" I do not pretend to think we come up with very good answers but I do think that the very thinking of such thoughts is deeply important.
Here you remember to think about these things perhaps because of your inexposure to pop culture. I love pop culture and I think it fascinating but I try not to be seduced by it. Culture dictates which thoughts are acceptable to think and which are simply not. On your own or with people who understand you, you can be free to not only push the boundaries of the envelope but not even to notice that there is an envelope at all. To be alone is to get to know your own mind, to get to know your own mind is to see where the greatest potentials lie. The people here experience long periods of a solitude so complete you would not believe.

When we meet with our neighbors they are people we know very well and have perhaps known very well for years. People, in short, with whom we can discuss the deepest of our thoughts. By being so close the community becomes intellectualy sustainable.

Know as you read this that I love many cities but know also that I love them in spite of themselves. I love the towering architecture of Seattle, and the fairylike fogs and pink houses of San Francisco. I love the sunny little coffee shops of Portland, and the freezing promenades packed with people that wind through Oslo and Rennes, I love the feeling that Paris is a living animal and that Phoenix goes on forever. These things that I love about these cities are overall patterns, all encompassing beauties, but what I like about here is the little moments of each day, the walks home in the dark. In the city the world looks beautiful from the window. You are an exquisitely handcrafted cog of a great machine, or the blood cell of a huge creature. But when you zoom in on your own little life as a cog or cell don't you want to be able to see your effect on the organism as a whole? Know what happens when you flush the toilet? Or spit into the sink? Even lose your backpack in the park? What effect are you having? Can you know?

I do not attempt to attack city life, only to express my love of island life. On that note I simply must say how mesmerizing were the leaves of the alder trees tonight. I began my walk home after nearly everyone had gone home but one car still drove up behind me in the dark. The light from the single working headlight turned the alder branches into cloudlike clusters of shining leaves. White teardrops on a black field.