Saturday, October 25, 2014

Tillamook, Greenland

3 Clackamas steelies I caught in 1979.
A coastal fall chinook I caught yesterday. Where did I leave that hat?
Living vs Existing
Too dark to keep but pretty fall colors.
Speaking of the Clackamas River, here are three I caught in 1979 before the crowds. 

Suz netted my fall chinook yesterday.  The only thing better than a mermaid is one who knows how to net a salmon.  She lost a bright coho but caught the fisherman.

I was so stressed after the move from Whidbey back to Portland, Oregon, I had to go fishing. Sometimes fishing stresses me out then I have to go fishing to relieve the stress.  Things like wrongly placed blackberry vines mean holes in face, or worse, in waders.  Wrongly placed boulders mean a fisherman in the river amongst the fish.  ODFW should consider their placements of these things.

On the river, I was thinking all these fish photos and poem notices have been sort of vying for attention, and certainly there is a land more satisfying than vying for attention.  Just being on an Oregon coastal river alone or with a mermaid is pure magic. 

However, when I'm not fishing, I still want to write and sell poetry books.  My newest one, Tillamook, Greenland made it past the query stage to the 40-page proposal stage at Portland State University's Ooligan Press which publishes books about "cultural and natural diversity of the Pacific Northwest," a perfect fit for this one.  I know from my days fly fishing that sometimes the presentation can be right but there are still no takers.  The river has a life of her own.

2 comments:

  1. Congratulations on a new manuscript, and a promising publishing avenue. You are one prolific poet — and fisherman.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Many thanks, Drew. Suz and I sure enjoyed your writing class at the Sitka Center for Art and Ecology on Cascade Head, and your Off the Page reading event in Yachats. I like the post on your blog about the "the thunder of the self-absorbed." I imagine someone dying and asking St. Peter, "Heaven is nice but -- Uh -- where can I charge my cell phone?" Maybe Crazy Horse was on to something by not allowing himself to ever be photographed. I guess, unlike him, I am a product of this culture, but as the weeks go by, I hope I am becoming less so.

      Delete