Alive at Last
An update on this winter has been long coming. I’ve written two posts to near completion before becoming distracted by other things. By the time I remembered to post them, the words I typed didn't feel representative of what I thought or felt. I hope to write and post this all in one day, without excessive time to reflect on the words or structure. The misspellings and grammar errors will be testament to flesh typing these words. I'm going to make a small table of contents.
I created a Master of Fine Arts ceramics portfolio
My brother Abraham and I grew closer
I have not managed to finish the book “Wealth of Nations”
Our fuel froze, leading to generator failures
Super Smash Bros is still my favorite video game
I spent an incredible winter break among friends in the town of Kodiak
My relationship with social media has transitioned for better and worse
The deer remain wary of me
I have completed several pen drawings focused on meditation and the passage of time
I saw a boat through binoculars 2 days ago
Pacific Crest Trail videos have taken over my YouTube feed
The ground is mush
I've watched many good movies
I’ve had really nice calls with friends
I read the news
I applied to 17 graduate programs and have had 3 interviews so far
The Olympics are happening
Isolation is nice
This covers many of the ranging ideas and feelings of living in seclusion. I am choosing to address them all. Each of the lines above will be a heading with a paragraph below it. This could become a long post because there is so much that I wish to share with you, my small audience. If you would like to skip to a topic of personal fascination, such as the Olympics, feel free to CommandF and skip the rest.
I created a Master of Fine Arts ceramics portfolio
This goal was at the forefront of my mind as I approached this winter. During the commercial salmon fishing season, I spent many frustrating hours attempting to ship over 1,000 lbs of clay, glaze, and equipment to our remote fishcamp. By the end of the summer, the studio was finally ready to use. The process of creation was intense. Every day I woke up, started a fire, ate three eggs, boiled water for tea, and headed to the studio for a 6 or 7 hour block of time. I would come back for a meal of sorts that was sometime between a traditional lunch and dinnertime. Usually the meal was some spruced-up ramen. After an hour or so break, I would head back to the studio for another few more hours. I held this schedule for 6 weeks straight, my only days off being my golden birthday and my brother's birthday. The work I was creating was mostly interesting, I thought. A series of 10 coil sculptures, sodium silicate sculptures, 3 busts of disgruntled men, 3 fishing related sculptures, 2 face jugs, and many other works. In addition to these projects, I was creating work to sell over christmas in Kodiak. For that purpose, I made around 50 mugs and a bunch of other work. Much of my work was destroyed. Trying to dry work in this wet climate with only a propane heater and an incredibly fickle kiln was an entire learning process. Besides work exploding in the initial bisque firing or from freezing temperatures, I lost much work due to generator issues, which I will detail more later. At the end of this process, I was happy enough with 10 of my pieces to include them in my 20 image ceramics portfolio. I am so happy to be done with this. It was an aggravation and difficulty that I had not experienced before in ceramics.
2. Abraham and I grew closer
Before Christmas, I didn't see Abraham all that much despite him being the only other human for miles. I would leave before he woke up. We would usually watch a bit of a show or movie before I headed to bed, and that was it. It still felt like a good amount of time to me, but over christmas break, and during our january back at fishcamp we spent much more time together. We went cross country skiing on Lake Gertrude after a nice dump of snow. I remain astoundingly uncoordinated on skis. We went to several events together, including a legendary bonfire. Our time out here in January was nice as well. The takeaway with Abraham was not these incredible lightbulb experiences that will live on in my mind, though there may be some of those. Existing in and sharing a space with someone is a bond that takes place without anything notable happening. Time equates to experiences to some degree, even if you strive to experience nothing. While we had adventures together, it was the quiet nights in the cabin with popcorn that seemed to express our brotherly affection for each other. Small conversations and arguments stack like Pringles in a well of common experience until you’ve reached the lid. I'm incredibly grateful to have a freshly filled Pringles can of experiences with him. I am grateful that he agreed to do this adventure with me. Thank you Abraham
3. I have still not finished “Wealth of Nations”
This book by Adam Smith was the guiding force for global capitalism. Fascinating right? Wrong!! It is a complete slog. It was written in the 1770’s and it shows. Reading it with our country in the late throws of unregulated greed (still called capitalism somehow)… is frustrating. I wish I could show Adam Smith the magnitude of wealth inequality that has sprung from some of his ideas… If he were here now though, he’d probably be too busy listening to Nicki Minaj and betting on Polymarket. Out of fear of boring you 1/100th the amount I was bored by this book, I'll leave this here.
4. Our fuel froze, leading to generator failures
In December, our fuel tank was blocked with ice, and our fuel line was frozen. We had diesel gel inside the fuel pump and filters of our main generator. We couldn't get it to take fuel. We switched to our backup generator with a 5 gallon bucket as our new fuel tank. This is the generator I had to do most of the kiln firings with. The Kiln couldn't be put on high, or the generator would shut down. Even on low, the kiln would turn off the generator frequently, leading to uneven firings and inconsistent electricity. I also had to refill the bucket every 3 hours. This was awful. I would stay up all hours of night, checking the kiln every 30 minutes, praying it would get hot enough to complete the firing.
5. Super Smash Bros is still my favorite video game
A surprising passion of mine is Super Smash Bros, if you didn't know. I've gone to a couple professional tournaments and met some top players before and it's so much fun. I wanted to bring it up because one of the only podcasts I enjoy is a super smash bros podcast called “Tweek Talks”. I look forward to it every week. I have a foot in this weird niche gaming community, despite only having a couple of friends who are into it. Honestly I don’t even play it very often. A lot of media surrounds the game though. Live streams of tournaments, YouTube vlogs, and podcasts all draw viewership to this niche game you probably only played at sleepovers as a kid. It’s fun to care about something so trivial and small, and compelling to see the passion and expression people find in these microcosms. It makes me curious how many niche communities exist on the outskirts, unnoticed unless you’ve been sucked into them. It's an interesting thought. They are new versions of connection. You've conglomerated people with shared passions and they build for themselves a new community … Maybe it's not that interesting… Maybe It just feels different to me because it's centered around a PG video game instead of a church or nightlife. I think I'm so drawn to Smash Bros because most of me will always know that nothing matters less than the outcome of the games. Another beautiful aspect of it is that it’s entirely self supported. Very little sponsorship for players or events happens. No matter what chaos happens in my life or the world, this small community of obsessed gamers will keep playing their game. It’s a beautiful distraction when I need it. If you ever want to talk about Smash Bros, my line is free.
6. I spent an incredible winter break with friends in the town of Kodiak
Thank you so much to everyone who spent time with me in Kodiak. I had easily one of the best Christmas breaks of my life, and it was entirely thanks to the people I got to spend it with. Even if we only saw each other one time, it meant a lot to me. I want to shout out Ashton, Max, Gareth, Jerron, and Peach in particular for being such great friends. I don't think they will read this, so I think it's safe to be nice to them. It was also really nice to see and spend time with old friends, faces I hadn't seen in years reappeared, and it was so special. Other friendships grew and strengthened greatly through bonfires, banya’s, walks, ice skating, runs, meals, and much more. After being isolated from friends for a couple of months, it was so nice to come back to a community that is so loving and welcoming. This whole winter has been an exercise in gratitude. Appreciating the contrasts between isolation and a town with two subways was special. The Kodiak community is so special to me. Each year, fewer of my friends return to the island for the holidays, but I haven't felt less connected to the town. It holds so many great memories. Every time I'm back, I strengthen friendships that remain there and make new friends. I’m having trouble putting into words the connection I feel towards Kodiak. I think it has a soul. Something is so immediately identifiable about The Rock. I think it’s a feeling I have when I'm there. It’s hard to imagine any other place as home.
7. My relationship with social media has transitioned for better and worse
One of my goals for my time in the bush was to build some sort of following on social media, Instagram in particular. Probably all of you have seen my posts, and I hope they aren't flooding your feed too much. I hope it's content you want to ingest. One day, I want to be able to sell my ceramics online. Our digital age requires a presence for any self-run business. I hate social media. I made my first post on my personal account 6 months ago, and my first ceramics post a bit over a year ago. I hate it. By posting more on social media, it means I'm spending and wasting more time on social media, sending reels to friends and doing nothing productive. I feel powerless in the megacorp's manipulative programs whose creators are inscrutable somehow. These are some negative aspects of these platforms. There have been three positive aspects to my increased media usage. First of all, I feel more confident. I no longer care how my digital self is perceived. I used to fear this greatly. Authenticity and connection are important to me. I didn't know how to post something that felt honest about my life. Now I just post things, and if people like them, then that's great. My posts in no way reflect who I know myself to be. The second positive aspect is that I've gained more followers! If you are reading this then you have been a day one supporter of my ceramics. Thanks so much for your support, in ceramics and in general life. It really does mean so much to me that you’ve cared enough to sign up for this newsletter and that you continue to follow my ceramics account despite the strange posts. The last positive outcome of social media posts has been the documentation of moments in time. I’m bad at taking photos of my life, but by posting videos, I have some markers of what happens in the ceramics portion of my life.
8. The deer remain wary of me
The deer still don’t let me approach them. I thought that over time I could get closer to them, but they are perhaps more skittish than ever. It's a hard time of year to be a deer. First hunting season opens, then they are freezing their tails off, finally they watch all their food disappear under snow. Poor guys, I would honestly just like to pat one and give it my jacket… Maybe a nice cup of hot chocolate too. Maybe that's what I’ll try tomorrow, I haven't offered them hot chocolate yet.
9. I have completed several pen drawings focused on meditation and the passage of time
I first started doing meditative pen drawings the summer before last. They were a way for me to ground myself as I existed at fishcamp. Those drawings inspired some ceramics and they collectively ended up becoming my first solo art exhibition. I’ve continued to do small meditative sketches with slightly more intention behind each design. The project I'm most proud of is a piece of paper with a row of tally marks for each day I've been at fishcamp since October. It’s just a few days away from completion. A larger pen project that reflects upon cycles and symmetry will showcase three separate designs on three different sizes of paper, each It will be displayed in a rectangle of 9 drawings with perfect symmetry. I'm very excited to complete this. I am about halfway done as I write this. The projects try to share what the process of being human looks like as landscapes change around you. It's an effort to pull some humanity into art through sheer dedication of time, a substance that can't be replicated by AI. I think about AI all the time. Much of what I create is stubbornly snubbing the nose of artificial intelligence. Keeping my work as human as possible is so important to me… I don't even like prints of art at this point. There are 3D printers that print clay sculptures at some of the schools I've applied to. I couldn't want to use them less. Even if they can produce some fascinating designs…
10. I saw a boat through binoculars 2 days ago
This was a strange sight. I saw the Emily Rose coming up the bay. It was the first time I'd seen other human life since Abraham left. They were dropping pots for Cod I think. They were pretty far away.
11. Pacific Crest Trail videos have taken over my Youtube feed
I was taken in by this idea around the age of 10 when a crewman told me about his hike of the Appalachian Trail and his goal to complete the PCT. I don't know if he ever completed his goal. The whole thing is undeniably romantic. 2,650 miles Mexico to Canada, Border to border, a true conquering of the west. A marker, a moment in time. The scale of the hike, 5 sections. Chosen intensity and challenge. 5 months with only a backpack. Compressed midsoles. One of my favorite aspects of the hike is the arbitrary nature of borders. border crossings, hiking permits, regulations on your existence in a space. With minimal historical tampering our southern border would be very different. My historical imagination takes over. I want to feel the hilarity of human regulation in the middle of nowhere. There’s irony there too, we have to regulate, we have to fight, but for a moment in time i would like to enjoy this challenge without considering the loss of wild land. It's hardcore. I want to experience it before I die.
12. The ground is mush.
The ground has changed from white to yellow. It’s quite pretty actually. The frozen ground has thawed completely. It has rained for the last two weeks. Every step outside is a sliding squelch as the grass beneath my feet melts to mud.
13. I've watched many good movies
The best new movie I’ve watched out here has been “SLC Punk”. I love exploring subcultures. I really appreciate the punk scene and the continued evolution of protest subcultures. I think the scenes are growing. Different bands, sounds tweaked into something new. My generation's trained complacency rarely breaks. Being elbowed in the head at a concert feels like a piece of agency we still have when we don't know how to exert our life force in a way that won't be more self destructive or more robotic. It's a common ground for frustration, desire, and change. The lull in the movie before the final act felt indicative of the activities taking place, a hangover stupor before one last hair of the dog rally. Another great movie I've watched recently was train dreams. This is nominated for best picture, deservingly so. The ending scene, that's what we chase. Great soundtrack too. One random note on this. At the tiny christian school I attended, we did a schoolwide recitation contest. Some students would chose to memorize scripture, and it was always so frustrating because of course the judges are going to enjoy seeing a child reciting the Bible at a Christian school. They always did well. Train Dreams feels like that in a way, a stoic, rugged man with a tender heart, beautiful nature shots, a simple script, and a great soundtrack. Always enjoyable, always Oscarbait, but it will never win the competition, just like the kids who recited scripture never won the recitation contest. Other movies I would like to give credit to are Jennifer’s Body, Bugonia, and The Smashing Machine. These were all incredible. Jennifer's body was such a great 2000s timepiece and incredibly funny and diverse. Bugonia sits just behind Sinners for my best picture of the year. The Smashing Machine?! Give The Rock more flowers. He gave an incredible performance for what I thought was a criminally underrated movie. There is so much here. As a lover of wrestling/ certain combat sports and of drama’s this was right up my alley, but how can anyone not like this? The pacing felt really perfect. The depiction of male friendship was well done. Excellent movie.
14. I’ve had really nice calls with friends
I feel closer to many friends than I ever have. Phone calls have been my primary means of human interaction for months. I thought this would be a difficult part of isolation, but phone calls have taken on a different meaning. Prior to this winter, they were a fun way to pass a drive, or the 5G buttress for friendships that I wanted to become stronger. My time on the phone always felt like a grayscape conversation amidst an otherwise colorful day of face-to-face human interaction. Since being isolated, phone calls have become highlights of days, jolts to my rhythms. They remind me how necessary connection and conversation are to my life. This year in particular has been an important one to have good friends who I can talk to about the unprecedented changes that have occurred in our country. Many of the conversations are about art. By being stripped of the regular nods and waves that dictated my Westmont social life, I've come to appreciate authentic conversations more. I have enthusiasm brimming over just to know how someone is doing, or to tell them about my ceramics woes. As I transition back into society, I will try to infuse my face to face interactions with the same intentionality and care I’ve felt in conversation over the phone. I still don't like FaceTime.
15. I read the news
There isn't much to say here except that I am disgusted and unsurprised at the news every day. We’ve fallen over some precipice. I hope the negative feedback loop can be reversed. We are in a class war right now. I hope people are watching what is happening around them.
16. I applied to 17 graduate programs
This process was difficult, but has already felt really rewarding. By far the biggest obstacle was creating a ceramics portfolio. While I worked on my portfolio I did a lot of research into ceramics programs across the country. The research was fun as I honed down my list, though I didn't hone it down too much. Ceramics MFA programs are incredibly competitive, so I applied to all the schools I liked on a series of metrics. Some of these schools are in locations I never thought I could live, Lincoln Nebraska, Edwardsville Illinois. But I love ceramics so much that I'm willing to not see the ocean for months if it means I will get to pursue this passion with all of my effort. Have you, the reader, ever experienced land sickness? You don't see a huge body of water for so long that you feel claustrophobic and sick? I’ve experienced this once and it's terrible. I’m willing to risk it though for grad school. I was able to get my materials into all the schools before all the deadlines. All of my recommenders were able to send their letters on time despite me typing some emails wrong. I’m so incredibly grateful for their recommendations and what their influence has meant for my life and my art. I've had interviews far earlier than I expected. I thought the majority of interviews would take place in march, and while i hope many interviews are still ahead, I’m grateful to have been interviewed by UMASS Dartmouth, the Rhode Island School of Design, and the Art Institute of Chicago thus far. I believe the interviews went really well. It was fun to have the opportunity to talk about my work and get to meet faculty from such cool programs. I’ll hear about acceptance or rejection from most schools in April. Fingers are crossed. Hopes are high. Expectations are low.
17. The Olympics are happening
I LOVE the Olympics! Have you ever heard people say “cupstacking is my Olympics” (you can replace cupstacking with anything). Anyway, the Olympics are my Olympics, and they are off to a decent start. I’m disappointed in how Men's Big Air snowboarding went, but THRILLED that our mixed doubles curling team is doing so well. The figure skating I’ve been able to watch has been engaging. The commentators for figure skating lay the landscape of competition so well, the storylines they share add a lot to the sports popularity, I think.
18. Isolation is nice
The themes I want to string through my time here are gratitude and meditation. The ability to do this winter in isolation is such an incredible blessing that I don't take for granted. Being able to focus entirely on basic needs like running electricity, hauling water, and changing propane is an incredible blessing. Having this space, knowing I can be here, gives me comfort. It's an escape route of sorts. If I feel too affected by society, I know I can isolate out here. I'm grateful for the beautiful land around me. I'm glad that wild places still exist. I love sustainable subsistence practices. My diet out here has mostly been venison from the deer I got this fall, fish I caught, salmon, halibut, cod, and of course ramen and eggs. To be in a place where these resources are abundant and sustainable is increasingly rare. I’m thankful for my family, who remain supportive and kind to me despite my frequent moodiness towards them. I'm thankful for all the friends that have encouraged me during this period of my life. I decided I wanted to spend this winter out here almost exactly 3 years ago, and the fruition of the idea has been different and more than I expected. So many of my friends were concerned with their futures as they graduated last year. Some of them thought they had to decide their 40 year career in the 4 month spring semester. I’m grateful to feel clarity in uncertainty. The issue has never been knowing what I want to do; it’s just been finding the time to do it. The excitement has officially begun, with this doubling as my first adventure and my planning stage. Many more adventures are ahead, and it's all because I’ve been blessed with so much. The biggest things on my radar right now are a trip through SE asia, Salmon season 26, Grad school!(hopefully), PCT, Ski resort liftee, struggling artist, and more :). None or all of this can change at any time and that's exciting.
I don’t have a strict meditation practice. Most of my meditation happens when I'm working on repetitive pen drawings. Sometimes I have Gilmore Girls playing in the background. Other times I'm at an empty table sitting in silence while I draw. My mind wanders to all sorts of things. Something that I've been increasingly interested in and have had a couple of conversations with Gareth about is the reimagination of memories. You can alter memories as you recycle them in your mind, and doing this is really interesting. I’m not trying to alter specific memories, but rather entering into a space of imagination where elements of my life intersect with other people's, and ideas bloom from these interactions. It’s hard to explain, and as I type this, it makes me look crazy, so I'll stop there. I’ve gotten to watch the seasons change. There is nothing to distract you from the elements out here. At night, I wake up to the wind sometimes. In the morning, the cold wood floor is testament to a gale stripping the cabin of warmth throughout the night. The sand and gravel on our beach have changed with big tides and high seas. Deer poop fertilizes every inch of ground. The sun is staying with me longer every day. As I look towards my last day out here, March 1st, I have several goals. I want to keep posting on social media. Now that I've gotten our large generator running again, I want to fire the kiln. I want to keep running more. I want to write more, I want to finish my pen drawings. Thank you so much for reading any amount of this. The people who have signed up for this newsletter are a very special group to me. You’re small, but elite. I have plenty of free time in the coming weeks, so if you want to call or ask for a movie recommendation or something, I’m always game.
With much love from Uyak bay, Alaska
-Micah Fields
