Small Point, Maine

What does it mean to be connected to a particular place on earth? I have felt a peculiar and personal pull at very specific locations all over the world, and I hold those landscapes as part of my distributed self.

Small Point Maine is one of those constellated identities for me. My own New England version of Yeats’ Innisfree*. I am grateful whenever I can be there, consumed into its very particular kind of unbridledness.

I’ll be back at the end of the week.

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* For anyone who doesn’t know this legendary poem, it has been memorized and immortalized by millions, myself included.

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

–William Butler Yeats

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