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If you're afraid to take your kids out into the wilderness for a camping or hiking trip because you're worried about outdoor safety, think about this: more kids get lost at the mall than in the woods.
Teach kids to carry their ten essentials: If your kids are older than three, have them carry a backpack while on the trail.
Born in 1959 into a wealthy family, Billy Bryan Brown never knew hardship as he grew into his teens in North Richland Hills. At the age of 14, he received a new ski boat for his birthday, a new Camaro at 15 and when he turned 16, his dad bought a new Beechcraft Bonanza and gave Billy, a licensed pilot, the family Cessna 172.
Very early in life Billy had become an award winning horse trainer, one of the country's youngest certified divers, and an accomplished musician working "gigs" throughout Texas.
At a young age, he had what appeared to be a very brilliant and rewarding future in his father's business in his structured and orderly world.
However, he soon learned that not everything remains the same forever, and that some of what life deals can create questions that seemingly can never be answered.
By the age of 17, Billy was an orphan living out of the back of his car, homeless and working day jobs to eat as he criss-crossed America over the next 10 plus years in a relentless, near maniacal search of something that was impossible for him to define. In the mid eighties, still searching, Billy, his young wife Ami and two young sons, ages 3 years and 18 months found themselves, literally, standing on the dock in Wrangell, Alaska. With little more than two sleeping bags, a tent and 13 dollars to their name, they were in awe of their surroundings, but somehow felt deep inside that they had just arrived home. Their awe continued over the next few months as winter approached, while Billy worked labor jobs around town, as they continued to acquaint themselves with the enormity of their new and exciting world.
Once rescued and returned to Port Protection, they soon chose to continue their lives in the bush, and eventually, aboard fishing boats during the season, remained in Alaska and grew as a family to love the Alaskan ways. Billy Bryan Brown has just authored a book about living 24 years in the wilderness of the last frontier, where he and his wife have raised a total of 7 children. One Wave At A Time, published by Booklocker and VIP Publishing has been receiving rave reviews in the the lower 48, and film rights have been optioned for 2 feature films and a possible 4 part mini-series for television. The Browns are returning to Alaska in early May from a book signing and speaking engagement tour in the lower 48, to once again venture into the bush to re-create the journey described in the book.
Accompanied by a professional camera crew, they will be filming this 57 day journey for a TV documentary to be aired nationally and internationally in early 2009. A A  i??*Empty Bowl was a small, non-profit press dedicated to publishing books and periodicals that reflect the visions and concerns of Pacific Rim communities, biological and cultural features of distinct regions, and the interdependence of all life along the Pacific Rim. When we weren't working in mud, when we weren't covered in it, we were holed up in big green Army tents, smelly like the back of the truck, to dry out, keep warm, cook a little stew for dinner, or make cheese sandwiches without leaving thumb prints, lie back and read.
Sometime during those months, Bob and I came up with the idea of publishing a poetry magazine for the Pacific Northwest. One of the last flyers printed in that building was a statement written and handset by Grant Logg to protest a proposed Kaiser plant in Port Townsend.
Our magazine was going to be printed on one of those letterpress machines, and Bob and I were going to take a month or so of our own time surviving on unemployment checks to handset each page.
Although by the second issue, in 1978, Bob was no longer interested in continuing with the project, he put up no resistance when I adopted the Empty Bowl name, as if in a spirit of shared ownership. Put out by Planet Drum, this rather formal document presented us, some for the first time, with the idea of a continent divided only by recognizable natural boundaries. Both issues quickly sold out at $2.00 each and Empty Bowl's loose knit group of editors and friends fell back into meetings, reading and discussion. Composed mainly of people fresh from what we saw as victory in the pullout from Vietnam, the activists in the movement may, for a short time at the beginning, have harbored the belief thatA  protests, pamphlets, books, lectures, and news articles could in fact bring about a halt to the production and proliferation of the Trident Nuclear Submarine System, or even the production and shipment of weapons grade material, which brought on massive protests against the so-called White Train. While producing the first issue of Dalmo'ma, I attended, at one of Centrum's first summer writing programs, a workshop led by Kenneth Rexroth. Yet, because Empty Bowl was so profoundly committed to Our Place, were we deceived into thinking that the Northwest native, Gary Snyder, was a Northwest Poet?
Digging For Roots: Dalmo'ma 5 alluded to the de Angulo quote in its title, but did not use it in the frontispiece. Working The Woods is one of the few books, perhaps the only such book, to portray the lives and experiences of treeplanters.
The last issue in the series was published in 1992 and called Shadows of Our Ancestors, Readings In the History of Klallam-White Relations, Dalmo'ma VIII. We were a cooperative with a collective editorship, if such terms of a relationship aren't mutually exclusive.
Jody Aliesan's book Desire (1985) and my own, The Straits (1983), were continuations of Empty Bowl's opposition to militarist experimentation; they were anti-Trident and firmly opposed to a nuclear civilization.
Yet other books, Here Among The Sacrificed (1984) by Finn Wilcox and Psyche Drives The Coast (1990) by Sharon Doubiago, Untold Stories (1990) by Bill Slaughter, and The Basin (1988) by Mike O'Connor expanded for us the boundaries of our region, taught us something of what it was like to be an outsider, even an outcast. Here Among The Sacrificed was published with a grant from the Washington State Arts Commission, although the grant covered only half the cost.
The editors of The Dalmo'ma Anthology in 1982 were: Jerry Gorsline, Michael O'Connor, David Romtvedt, Tom Jay, Sharon Doubiago, Finn Wilcox, Tree Swensen, Tim McNulty, Michael Daley, Beverlee Joesten, and Steve R. Finn Wilcox, Pat Fitzgerald and Jerry Gorsline ran Empty Bowl for its fourteen years, disbanding the nonprofit and dispersing the unsold books in 1998.
A A  *Empty Bowl was a small, non-profit press dedicated to publishing books and periodicals that reflect the visions and concerns of Pacific Rim communities, biological and cultural features of distinct regions, and the interdependence of all life along the Pacific Rim.
Bob Blair and I shared a tent big enough for our cots, boxes of supplies and books stuffed underneath, a small round airtight wood stove, and a couple of lamps. To the Anti-Trident section, the anthology linked Central American poetry and essays, and the work of writers about the environment, feminism and Northwest Poetry specifically. Jennifer Aist, author of Babes in the Woods, knows exactly how to help you prepare your children for safe adventures outdoors. Fill it with band-aids, a trash bag, a whistle, a rain shell, a flashlight, a snack, and some water. Let them explore within speaking range (shouting range is too far!) and make sure they know what to do in case they get separated from you. While you want to make safety an important topic on your trip, Jennifer says that hovering close to your children can be dangerous. Los lobos solitarios no tiene un territorio propio y raramente marcan con su aroma o aullan.8.
This was 1975, from November or December to April or May of '76, the Bicentennial year, Greyhound buses all over town. The rest of the crew slept in tents except for those who'd done it once before; they were in homemade campers mounted on their decrepit pickups. Bob had just acquired a Chandler-Price platen press, which he'd installed in a second floor office of the Taylor Building in Port Townsend.
The day after Kaiser decided not to build, Jim's brother, a millionaire in Seattle, had us kicked out of the building, and some of those big Chandler-Price printing presses grew feet and walked out with us. We had enough material from many fine writers throughout the Northwest to print, for the Fourth of July, 1976, the first issue of Dalmo'ma.
We set type in that sunny room in the Taylor Building for a few weeks, and printed stacks of several sheets of the little book before I thought to ask the name of the press. He said once that he'd tried writing poetry and found it easy and didn't want to do it anymore.
The first time I heard them was when I met Jerry Gorsline and Linn House, now known as Freeman.
Throughout the book, Puget Sound Salishan calendar terms set the poems and translations in specific seasonal turns. The three or four white-haired men and women standing in front of Skagit County Court House today or King County Courthouse and other prominent locations across the country are a more emphatic pronouncement against the continuing military build-up. Jerry Gorsline published an interview with a young Buddhist monk who, along with a small group of craftsmen monks from Japan, was building a Temple on Ground Zero. He had a great deal to say about publishing during that week, as well as writing and the influences a beginning writer could best profit from. In hindsight her criticism is justified, yet at the time, we found it ludicrousA  how could we not combine all these themes?


Was he a Californian Poet because he lived there, and wrote so much about his community's having claimed that place? It also examines the neglect of watershed management and how the status of the Pacific Northwest as a resource colony for timber and fish has lead to the losses of various species and to accidents, results of corporate decisions or the impact of the Trident Nuclear Submarine System in our waters.
Edited and with commentaries by Jerry Gorsline, it is monumental in the scope of Empty Bowl's vision. One gives up the long-awaited approval of some venerable editor, perhaps because the manuscript itself has become so compelling both to the author and to many readers.
Judith Roche's Ghosts (1985), Susan Goldwitz's Dreams Of The Hand (1985), Mary Lou Sanelli's Lineage (1985), Bill Ransom's The Single Man Looks At Winter (1983), and Tim McNulty's Tundra Songs (1982), connected us with Alaska, or portrayed the Northwest as wilderness at peace, a civilization of humans who fail easily, and have the victory of recognizing that.
Finn Wilcox's book is a collection of haunting poems and captivating stories about his travels on freight trains, accompanied by the startling and beautiful photos of Steve R.
While we were in the midst of publication, I returned to the East Coast to spend some time with my family. They were filling orders, although fewer and fewer, for years after the books were published. The little things, like sun and bug protection, good footwear, and clean hands can prevent plenty of injuries or owies while you're enjoying the outdoors. They'll learn to ration out their snacks and water, and have safety necessities in case of emergency.
The Hug-A-Tree program teaches kids how to stay safe in the woods if they're lost: stay in one place, make yourself big, have a trash bag and whistle, and know that friendly people will be looking for you! Overprotected children don't learn the skills that will help them avoid and judge dangerous situations. History everywhere, the tourist or antique hunter became its medium; in storefront windows sat old rockers, all shined up, beds and tables, date next to the price.
A lot of time seems to have been taken up sitting in woolen longjohns, learning more efficient ways to dry our clothes. Jim just kept framing, dismantling and reframing with new beams, the same vestibule staircase.
The title was a Pit River tribal place name I found in Jerry Gorsline's copy of Indians In Overalls by Jaime de Angulo.A  It mattered that the name for the publication should be about our own placeA  and at that time we meant, almost exclusively, too narrowly, the Olympic Peninsula.
We were looking for roots we knew we never had, but that someone had, and places we loved still contained.
Bob or I usually asked a question by way of introducing a topic we needed to discuss, and so with this. These two pieces of writing constitute the largest portion of prose in the first two issues.
There were Aztec and Sioux translations within the few pages of this issue, and in both the first and second issues the poetry and stories of such, now notable, writers as Tim McNulty, William Stafford, Kim Stafford, Bill Ransom, Sam Hamill, Barry Lopez, Jim Dodge, John Haines and Jim Heynen. Two issues of a pamphlet series, Firecrackers, went out, and a few small postcard size poems. The obligation to provide witness to warmongers and governments is the lasting purpose of a political movement. But the statement I really remember applied to me at the time because Dalmo'ma was conceived of as the first issue of a quarterly. In other parts of the country, I imagine people from around here are called Seattle Poets by way of identifying an address or an influence suggested by movie settings, coffee companies, mountains & rivers, logging. Just as Stephen Duck, who protested the advent of the Industrial Revolution with proletariat poetry that predates Marxism, and John Clare from the same era, who with maddening ferocity describes down to the nose hairs every badger in sight, just as they and centuries of local poets offered an identification with a kind of grove, or a sacred place, so did Empty Bowl. In 1986 we published two issues both funded by a grant from the Washington State Arts Commission's dwindling arts fund. The collection addresses eloquently and precisely the themes fundamental to our publications: regional, environmental, native and historic values override the general, vague, inexact blunders of political and academic systems. Although all such publications can be tarred as VanityA  or Subsidy books, we were not inviting authors to submit based on their bank accounts, or their benefactors', but because their work was significant to many of us in the editorial committee, because the work struck us as powerful interpretations of our human involvement with this region.
Without it the literature from any given area will be left up to the press that attracts the most grant support. The misfortune of such a development is the diminishing role of an editor in subsidy presses. This is an especially significant theme of Jim Bodeen's Whole Houses Shaking (1993), a series of poems addressing the cancer treatment and death of his father, the bonds of his family, the stories and histories we're forever running up against, forever avoiding.
By 1984 the editors were Tim McNulty, Jerry Gorsline, Tom Jay, Finn Wilcox, Mike O'Connor, Pat Fitzgerald and Michael Daley. Despite our minimal advertisement, few reviews of our books, and increasing disillusionment over the tough work of distribution, orders for Empty Bowl books came steadily from book stores, distributors, collectors and readers of poetry and literature throughout the world. Tip: a first-aid kit with band-aids, hand sanitizer, bug spray, antibiotic ointment for scrapes, and anti-itch gel can be vacuum-sealed in a zip-lock and fit almost anywhere in your pack. Tip: Make sure your children, whether toddlers or preschoolers or older, are wearing something bright, like a windbreaker or bandana for easy visibility at all times for added trail safety.
This is not to say that you should take a nap in the tent all afternoon, but do let your children make mistakes and learn how to be capable on the trail. But we escaped most of that for those four or five months we worked on the clear- cuts planting trees.
A system of lines ranged out from the safest point near the stove, clothes pins bearing the weight of socks and underwear. I had helped set type with Bob, Rod Freeman, and Kevin Quigley when they published a collection of poetry and art in 1973 known as The Wale.
The Pit River people lived in Northern California which was beyond the southern boundary of the region where we found ourselves. That places could be structured as natural rather than political systems seemed a more appropriate form of anarchy than measures then being suggested in cities. Empty Bowl began the first Dalmo'ma Anthology by collecting significant documents of the Northwest Anti-Trident movement and publishing them.
When they had completed the Temple, built on property adjoining the Bangor Naval Base, Trident's Home Port, it was burnt to the ground by unknown arsonists. Rexroth said, without any sarcasm, that editors who start poetry magazines, do so to publish their own poetry. It became our consensus as a group of editors meeting in one another's living rooms, that we could not criticize the government without looking at the governed. Remembering that a great deal of software originated here could suggest a Seattle Poet writes exclusively for cyber readerships.
Just as Robert Frost and Virgil meditated on how the human condition thrives in the vegetative bucolic, and as Gary Snyder depicted the ghost logger visiting the demolished grove, Empty Bowl did too.
It was an effort to expand our own sense of community, to demonstrate what the Sister City movement of that era was accomplishing, and to establish a relationship with environmental issues beyond our own bioregion. Grant support is dependent upon past performance, and for small press publishers this means bigger and more beautiful books by more celebrated authors. Compared, for instance, to those graduate students or hired guns who pre-read contest submissions, one's friends may seem less objective. A month earlier I confessed to her I wanted to write an article about Central American refugees, but couldn't sustain more than thirty minutes of uninterrupted time at my mother's house. In the years that followed most us were to remain involved in less active ways, while others would replace them: Barbara Morgan, Beth Barron, Ru Kirk, and still others who I hope will forgive my bad memory.
During those years they published many of the books I have already described: Working The Woods Working The Sea (1986), Shadows Of Our Ancestors (1992) and Psyche Drives The Coast (1990) by Sharon Doubiago. We cooked over the wood stove our odd concoctions of carbohydrates and protein; once I nearly gagged Tim McNulty with some barely cooked grain. Copies of this book, indeed rare now, seemed to be all over Port Townsend and Seattle for about five years.
A few years later, a tunnel which originated in the basement of the Weir Building caved in one morning in the middle of Water Street halfway to Seafirst Bank, Jim blinking up into the dust.
I had admired the intent of Kuksu, a magazine edited by Dale Pendell, Gary Snyder and Steve Sanfield.


I remember very little, other than the distinction between a glottal stop and a glottal click.
He smoked Drum in those days when we had money, rolling each smoke meticulously so that the end product could have been mistaken for the machined sticks of committed Lucky's smokers. It included a rough map of the strife-torn Middle East, about which most of us entrenched regionalists knew utterly nothing. A roll of brown paper from the Port Townsend mill, which employed most of the town and fouled the air with pulp fumes, appeared in our office one day. Archbishop Hunthausen attended the protest of Trident at Oak Bay at the mouth of Hood Canal, also known as Twana Fjord.
At the time, I had to admit this was true, although both Bob Blair and I were committed to the work of those authors we'd invited. In which case, does the reflection of a poet's sensory observations need to have any definable influence?
It wasn't until the following year that Empty Bowl became a nonprofit organization, and I was officially hired as editor-publisher-trainee. With these three books our group of editors was able to focus on the major themes the reviewer of The Dalmo'ma Anthology had faulted us for treating like buckshot. Yet a response by someone who can be impartial, and who is genuinely moved by one's poetry, can be as rewarding as an acceptance into a world of academic look-alikes. My own involvement with Empty Bowl Press changed in 1985 when I moved out of Port Townsend. They facilitated the distribution of Empty Bowl books produced by associates of the press, such as Whole Houses Shaking (1993) by Jim Bodeen, The Family Letters of Maxwell Perkins (1995) and Untold Stories (1990) A by William Slaughter. Just before first light the mice in our food supply would wake us, we'd stoke the stove, cook some sorry coffee, get back into damp rain gear, and carry charcoal-stained cheese sandwiches onto the clear-cut, hip bags filled with mudball treelings, Doug Fir, probably harvested by now for the toilet paper mills.
Four or fiveA  letterpress machines were located in the back of the Weir Building, kitty-corner from Seafirst Bank and just across the street from the Town Tavern.
What we were doing took some of its influence from their publication, yet the name remainedA  regional, but outside our own physical region, and paying homage to the native words and stories found in the book of a Spanish anthropologist who could never be more than an observer, despite his evident reliance on primitive ways. And being forced to admit I knew nothing about the rather odd and apparently meaningless word I'd selected for the title of our magazine, except that I liked what I thought it sounded like in my Euro-tongue's appetite for blithe colonization. Bob was steady and careful in all that he did, and painfully aware of the lack of these qualities in others. My memory, of what I'd told myself was a transition from the dual editorship toward a collective, diverged widely from his; yet despite my surprise that he'd seen it so, I could recall no conversation where the name ceased to be his property. It seemed to me that for an issue of a magazine or an anthology to successfully evolve a theme, there must be this conception on the part of the editor that a centerpiece would state the key principles about which all other entries could revolve. Firecrackers 1, which I edited, consisted of three poems by Tim McNulty, Tom Jay and Doug Dobyns. I wrote a description of that day when protesters got in boats to meet Trident on its maiden voyage to Bangor. Yet we wanted our anthology to express hope, both through our writing and through visual art.
An out of work treeplanter rehabilitating from an injured back, I was eligible for retraining funded by the Washington State Department of Labor and Industries for six months. The Rainshadow (1983), our first book published in Taiwan and bound in the traditional Chinese fashion included poems about China with those set near the eastern slope of the Olympics. The Empty Bowl editors made a decision, which may have been a factor in its eventual demise, to run no contests. Because we are so unsure of ourselves, perhaps, as writers in a competitive culture, it helps to approach one's own work with an astonishing authority. I had already lost the urge to design and publish books, and I was forced to admit I didn't have the stamina needed to distribute work which deserved to be read. They arranged to place copies of many of these books into classrooms to be used as texts in college and high school courses. The Weir building was unheated, so we spent a great deal of time planning at the tavern.A  The building was being remodeled by Jim Weir, who expressed himself mainly with gestures and grunts. Immediately after the United States incinerated Hiroshima and Nagasaki, he tore a hole in the middle of his living room floor and roof, and heated the home with fire vented through that smoke hole. The three foot roll became an insurmountable problem for days until my old mentor, Grant Logg, came up to the office with his chainsaw, divided it into three neat rolls, and left. By 1982, our Anthology's commitment was to the issues themselves, and to attempting to present thoughtful arguments, compelling images and serious alternatives. Although our organization had to agree to hire me at the end of that period, we knew the chances were slim that Empty Bowl could afford an employee. Even a regional contest can limit and stymie the body of work and the current of influence collaboration fosters. Besides which, they did the heroic work of keeping the press afloat, and maintaining nonprofit status.
Jim was always framing in walls or stairs, dismantling his work and reframing a room from a totally different plan. This was not what we've come to call a NIMBY issue, however, since the frightening power of the Trident weapons system had global reach and presented a target which would wipe out such subtargets as Seattle, Portland, Vancouver, British Columbia, and all life between. Johnson, and reproduced a triptych of paintings in black and white by the late Northwest artist, Nelson Capouilliez. It seems now to have been a shady deal, but even the treeplanters who disapproved of filing the claim for the back injury, thought their own support of the press was a significant community obligation.
Collaborations should be regional, that is, the collaborators should know one another, have more in common than an exchange of writing, like bodily fluids, for money.
I rented a light table from a nearby typesetting company and tried to keep my lines straight. Changing his mind didn't seem unusual, until we came to see the process of assembling and dismantling was chronic, and the building would never be finished. Funding for the production is the biggest burden for a small press publisher, and when the writer enters into this swamp, it may be because a publisher with integrity has found a manuscript that deserves to be published and invited the writer to help. Steve Johnson and I were on the phone every day discussing the placement of his photos, or the quality of printing. They stored the books for years in their house and their kids grew up with poets and readers coming and going to pick up or autograph copies. But it seems a Northwest Poet, with or without a National or Multinational Corporation's readership, besides living here, must write something that interests people from the Northwest, that somehow characterizes them and this quite unusual combination of climate conditions in which we live.
He also called the printer every morning to ensure the highest quality for his duotone reproductions. They filled orders continuously, ran meetings and kept the accounts of an organization that took its name to mean both replenishment and the gift that moves. Certainly Pound's reading of Yeats' later poems had an influence, as he did on Eliot, and many other poets of the day. They saw that the spontaneity of poetry needed to come to rest somewhere, and took on the steady methodical job of running Empty Bowl, permitting so many Northwest writers and artists a home. The function of the press was to keep a place for writers to publish works significant to the Northwest literary community.
The more nebulous and loose that group became, the more apparent became Empty Bowl's purpose: to record a valuable era in the region's literary history and to represent the tradition of those who stand apart, who choose within the smaller market to act locally. From our home, and the materials at hand, we did what literature commands, we made a solid thing of words. No podia acabar esta entrada sin nombrar a Felix Rodriguez de la Fuente , que tanto nos enseno sobre estos animales.



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