“In the presence of nature,
a wild delight runs through the man.”
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
When I was growing up, I had a fascination with wild places.
More specifically, I was fascinated by the idea of man attempting to live among the wildness. My favorite books were stories such as Swiss Family Robinson, Bridge to Terabithia, and especially My Side of the Mountain, in which a young boy lives alone in the woods, builds a home out of a hollowed-out tree, and subsists off acorn pancakes and dandelion salads. Basically, it sounded like heaven.
I would sit at my desk overlooking our two-acre yard, painting or scribbling in my art journal, while listening to many of the stories as books-on-tape – literal tapes that I borrowed from the library, which I would then insert into my literal Sony Walkman. The tales of adventure and wild living would dance across my mind as I brought scenes to life on the page.
I don’t think I ever lost this fascination, but it did fade as I got older – eclipsed by a new interest in big cities. I spent a summer in Boston, took weekend trips to Chicago and New York, and ultimately, after college, moved to London. I felt a certain thrill in these cities, one I hadn’t known in my somewhat rural childhood, and swept into something bigger than myself. I felt at home.
But then, like a boomerang reaches the end of its arch and begins to curve back around, I started to feel not so at home. I started to feel rushed and even stressed. If there is an energy to cities, I took in too much of it, and pushed myself too hard. I was perpetually late, which only made me more stressed. When arriving in a new country over the last couple of years, I often found myself leaving behind its big cities – be it Budapest or Bangkok, Tokyo or Istanbul – and escaping for the openness of its countryside and more out-of-the-way islands. For places where I could hear myself think again – where I could hear myself live again.
I say all of this merely to preface the fact that when I first spun the globe three months ago and stumbled across an entry on Craigslist, one that advertised a yurt for rent on a rural island in British Columbia, I immediately sensed that this was it.
This was the last stretch of the boomerang’s journey home.
I arrived on Salt Spring Island just over three weeks ago.
From the moment the ferry left Vancouver and began its 90-minute voyage through the Salish Sea, I felt something in me release. I pressed my forehead against a chilly window, watching Salt Spring slowly take shape through the fog. Mist hung over the hills and settled on the dense branches of evergreen trees. Here and there along the island’s craggy shoreline were splashes of color – a blue roof, an overturned red kayak, a Canadian flag occasionally stirred to life by a breath of wind.
My new landlord Christo picked me up at the ferry terminal, gave me a whistle-stop tour of the main village of Ganges, and then drove us back to the yurt. The rest of the afternoon passed with him showing me the ropes and me taking feverish notes, terrified that if I missed even one tiny detail, I would surely blow the whole place up at some point. Stack the cedar kindling as high as I can when starting the fire. Don’t keep the space heater on maximum while taking a shower or I’ll trip the breaker. Turn the propane tank off after cooking. Use a long hooked tool to open the glass dome and let air into the yurt. Water his two plants once a week – but don’t expect them to thrive.
“I don’t know,” Christo said, a resigned tone in his voice. “Neither of them are happy.”
And with that, the yurt was mine – for three months, anyways, but who’s counting? As I wrote here a couple of weeks ago, the island was hit by a freak snowstorm the very day after I arrived, and we lost power for exactly 28 hours. It took a few days for the snow to settle and more normal routines to emerge – but once they did, I was soon in love with this new little life I’ve stumbled into.
I love that I awake almost shivering, and am the only one responsible for making the yurt warm. I love that the only way to obtain aforementioned cedar kindling is by splitting logs at the woodshed (I’ve yet to lose a finger). I love how the dome in my roof makes it feel like I’m living in a snow globe, letting the morning sunlight stream in. I love that I can see the stars through it, and how just last night, the full moon illuminated the yurt, casting a circular moon shadow on the canvas walls.
I love the awareness that living in such a place creates in you. I love that I’m learning to listen to the world around me, and not just hear it. It is impossible to not pay attention – to the calling of owls in the woods, to the falling of rain on the roof, to the snapping and crackling of the fire, to the laughing of neighbors’ children, and even to the passing of traffic and buzzing of chainsaws nearby, reminding me that I’m not as far removed from civilization as I imagine myself to be.
I love the sense of permeability – that here in this round orb of canvas and latticework, the distinction between indoors and outdoors is forever gently blurred.
But what I perhaps love the most is the sense of purpose I feel here.
If you have ever moved countries before – if you’ve ever moved anywhere, really – or set out on a trip that was years in the making, you might relate to what I’m about to describe. There is a tremendous amount of work that goes into such a move or trip, so many months of planning and saving and coordinating, that your doubts are largely kept at bay during the process. In my own experience, it is only after I’ve arrived at the other end of the move that my doubt has a chance to surface. “Now what?” are often the first two words out of my mouth in a new place.
For the first time in my life, I didn’t ask that question after moving into the yurt, and I can’t begin to describe how grateful I was for that. How grateful I still am every day. I knew exactly what I had come here to do – and so I set about doing it. There’s a desk in the yurt, which Christo built out of these two big beautiful slabs of maple wood, and it’s here that I spend the majority of my time. Ostensibly I sit here to write or sketch, but if I’m honest with you, I sometimes just stare out this great window before me at the sky beyond the trees and say thank you about a hundred times a day, for whatever stroke of luck or happenstance brought me to this place.
In many ways, it has all come full-circle – it being life, I think. I’ve circled back and re-connected with my long-held fascination for wildness. I’m learning the names for Douglas Firs and Gerry Oaks and taking long walks to the coast. I’m working on my memoir and on sketching projects, and all the while I’ve been listening to books-on-tape again – not literal tapes this time, but a whole cache of audiobook videos I discovered on YouTube. I’ve finished John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy and have about half a dozen more titles in the queue right now.
It gives me faith, really, that nothing is ever for nothing. That the various dreams and desires that have been in us since the beginning are all there for a reason, and that the threads weaving through our lives may disappear for a time – but it doesn’t mean they’ll never re-surface again, somewhere farther down the tapestry.
It gives me faith that when we spin the globe in life, sometimes the spot on which our finger lands is the very place we’re meant to be.
Candace, lovely sketches. It looks like an amazing place and I wish I was there writing with you (I still owe you an email BTW– getting to that soon). Enjoy every moment. XO
Oh, Kim, you have no idea how much I wish you were here as well! You would just absolutely love it – long mornings spent writing, followed by long walks to the coast in the afternoon 🙂 I think of you often. And no rush at all on the email…I know you and Brian have just a *little* on your plate right now. Know that I’m sending lots of good driving and speaking vibes your way this weekend, and I can’t wait to follow along your epic mission! xo
Thanks for the insight into yurt life. I don’t know if I would have felt safe in the yurt during the snowstorm, but feeling like being in a snowglobe would be amazing. I have read lots of books about survival in the wild too. Several about canoeing on rivers in Alaska and also round the world sailing and climbing mountains like K2 and Everest. I don’t know what the attraction is because I don’t see myself ever climbing mountains or sailing around the world. Possibly I would canoe down an Alaskan river. It is wonderful that you are getting to live your childhood dreams, and they come up to expectation. I have your screen saver on my 23″ computer monitor, so it’s cheerful red lanterns for me every morning 🙂
Thank you so much for your lovely note, Jan! It’s always great to hear from you. You know, the yurt actually held up really well during the snow – the angle of the roof meant the snow was constantly sliding off and never built up too much, and the wood stove actually keeps the yurt surprisingly cozy 🙂 I’m with you on wanting to canoe down a river in Alaska, though – I’ve heard so many wonderful things about the state, and can’t wait to explore it myself one day. By the way, I loved hearing that you’ve got February’s lanterns on your desktop – that made my night!
These are some of my favorite sketches that I’ve seen of yours. I like you I guess grew up in a more rural environment and also had such a draw to big cities too. Although I’ve always been so amazed by nature too and the grandeur of it all. What a lovely little abode. And what great house (yurt) warming. I’ve had that feeling about ‘now what’ but mine strangely were more like ‘now what the heck did i just get myself into’. I look forward to reading about your adventures in nature and in your yurt. It definitely looks like you are out there living deliberately.
That desk does look quite amazing too. Just a little bit jealous 😉
It is as excellent as always to hear from you here, Anwar! Your revised version of my ‘now what?’ question is actually a lot closer to what I ask myself (except I go with a little more emphatic version of heck 😉 And yes, isn’t it interesting how we can hold both these simultaneous desires for nature and big cities inside us? I think it actually makes life interesting, and the challenge just becomes learning to strike a good balance between the two. I’m sure by the end of this little three-month retreat I might be itching for a taste of city life…but then again, perhaps not! And lastly, I just wanted to thank you for what you said about these sketches. Truth be told, I kinda feel the same way about them! It was so much fun watching them come to life this weekend, and the process has definitely inspired me to keep working on Salt Spring sketching narratives while I’m here. I’m excited to share more with you soon!
Beautifully written post and excellent watercolor sketches, Candace! There’s so much to take away from your post and I’m glad you shared the story with us. Keep up the amazing work and I can’t wait to read more about your adventures in the yurt and beyond.
Thank you so much for your kind words, Scott! They really mean a lot. I’ve already got another Salt Spring sketching narrative in the works, so I look forward to sharing that with you soon 🙂 Thank you again for reading, and I hope you have a lovely week!
Goodness, I can’t tell you how much I love this post! Our favorite childhood books are the same. I have fantasized about living in a yurt, but haven’t experienced it yet. When I was on the big island I passed one in the hills, surrounded by pasture and horses. Thank you for sharing this glimpse into your yurt living!
Joyce, I’m so delighted you enjoyed this post! And I’m equally glad we share a love for wilderness tales 🙂 I’ve also been fascinated by yurts since I was young – when I was around 12 years old, I actually built a model yurt out of popsicle sticks and brown felt, and really ever since then I’ve dreamed of staying in one. Little did I know then that I’d have the chance to rent one! I can’t recommend it enough – I love how connected you feel to nature, and how simple it allows life to be. I hope you’ll get the chance to stay in one soon! Thank you again for reading, and I can’t wait to share more yurt-living updates with you soon.
PS – I almost forgot to mention that I just checked out your blog and am loving your art updates! I’ll be in touch with more about that soon 🙂
These are beautiful! The yurt looks so peaceful and comfy. I’m a new reader and I look forward to following along 🙂
Thank you, Jackie! It’s lovely to hear from you here. By the way, I just popped over to your site and instantly recognized the handiwork of my dear friend Hannah. So great to see she designed your site! It looks fantastic, and I especially loved your post on the Picasso museum. I, too, am a sucker for quotes about art, so thank you for a few more to write down 🙂
These are simply beautiful, Candace – I would love to see it myself one day! What a fabulous idea. I might have to copy you in the future, this looks like the perfect place to think and dream and create.
By the way, it makes me so happy to see you and Jackie connecting (comments above). Yay – two of my favourite people!
I *so* wish you could come visit, Brenna! And I definitely do hope you’ll be able to carve out a few writing retreats for yourself in the near future (actually, you’ve just given me the seed of an idea…email coming soon!). But I’ve so loved slowing down for these few months here, and can’t recommend it enough. I think there’s just something about the stillness and solitude that is perfect writing fuel, you know?
And yes! I was thrilled to connect with Jackie just a little while ago, and love all these overlapping worlds and connections 🙂
Sending lots of love your way today! xx
I love what you wrote, “nothing is ever for nothing”. Your words always carry so much meaning, and every one of your article teaches me something. Lately I’ve been in a rut and I don’t know how to get how out of it, I need to restore my faith perhaps just like what you are doing in the yurt. 🙂
Nellie, I can’t thank you enough for what you said. I’m always grateful when life reveals another lesson to me, and it’s wonderful to hear that those I share here resonate with you as well! I’m also really sorry to hear you’ve been in a rut, and hope that this new season of spring will bring you a fresh sense of vision and purpose – sending lots of love your way!
There’s just something about the way you write and draw that keeps me reading till the end.
Thank you for sharing! Stay warm!
Well thank you so much, Rachel! It always thrills the writer in me to hear I’ve kept someone’s attention ’til the end of a story 🙂 Thanks so much for reading and saying hello – and as my little fire roars beside me, I appreciate the wishes for warmth as well!
What a lovely post full of emotions, the way you wrote it made me feel what you were feeling, very nice indeed like the sketches of course. My favourite one is “when the day begins” so full of details, I love the socks in front of the fire:)
Thank you, Franca! I’m delighted to hear the story evoked so many different emotions for you. And thanks for your kind words about the sketches as well – I’m especially glad you noticed the socks 😉 They were a rather constant fixture here for a while during all the snow, so they definitely had to be in there!
Fantastic “imaginary yurt warming party” Candace, thanks for the invitation! Wonderful sketches as always and I can really see your words sparkling again. It somehow feels like sipping incredibly fresh water from the deep well of your mind again… 🙂 Seems like you ARE in that place, I mean in terms of “BE” like growing instead of staying or as you put it “hear myself live again.”
Btw, is that your travel mug? At least I sense certain stories connected to it – not only due to the broken handle… 😉
Take care and enjoy your time at the soothing pulse of life!
Thank you for the incredibly lovely comment, Oliver! I was thrilled to read what you said about the ‘sparkle’ being back 🙂 I try not to post here just for the sake of posting, and while I always enjoy writing the stories, there are some that just mean even more to write (I hope that makes sense!). I have never been happier living somewhere – there’s just a calm and a peace and an openness here that I am absolutely in love with, and I think that space has given my writing room to breathe and grow in a way that it hasn’t in a while. I can’t wait to share a few more stories of yurt-living with you soon!
And you know that mug actually belongs to the guy I’m renting the yurt from 😉 He has a few different ones to choose from here, but as soon as I saw the broken handle, I knew that was the mug for me…like you said, although I don’t know the story of how it broke, I just know there’s one behind it.
Candace, All the books you listed are my Favorites. “My side of the Mountain”‘ I remember reading in fourth grade, My Family had just moved back to Seattle from eastern Washington. Our new house was surrounded by woods. So I was out making forts, identifying wild plants, exploring the creeks and yes climbing trees (I still do this). Fun times.
A love for big Cities is something I have acquired in my recent years. Bangkok and Saigon just grabbed my soul over the last 20 years, all the crazy traffic, bright colors, horns honking, the smell of pungent spices, fruit,diesel, and flavors waffing through my nose from the street side food stands… I love it. But We all need our rural landscape to recharge and bring balance. I don’t get in the woods as much as I used to but such great memories of backpacking Alaska, Mt. Rainer. And soon the Himalayas.
You keep me inspired, Thank you 🙂
Todd, I so appreciate your thoughtful comment! It’s especially great to connect with another fan of “My Side of the Mountain” 🙂 The big cities you named – Bangkok and Saigon – also happen to be two of my favorite in the world (right next to Istanbul in my top three), and for all the reasons you mentioned! There is nothing that quite compares to the wonderful chaos and colors of an Asian city, is there? But at the same time, I’ve so enjoyed getting back into the woods this last month – fingers crossed I’ll be able to strike a good balance in life from here on out, exploring fun new cities but retreating to more rural spaces every now and then. I thank you as always for reading, it means a lot!
Beautiful sketches! I’ve been dying to know what the inside of this yurt looks like ever since you first mentioned you will be living in one! I have a question, though, where is the bathroom/shower?
Also, I LOVE the writings that accompany the sketches. I can almost feel the serenity and peacefulness conveyed through your words… They make me want to get out of the city and enjoy some wilderness. Sigh.
That is a fantastic question, Pauline 🙂 And it’s always the first thing anyone asks when I’m giving them a tour on Skype! So if you look back at the sketch of the yurt’s interior, you should see a little door in the center with a red curtain on it? If you go through that, the bathroom (and shower!) is right by the yurt. Although it’s technically in a separate building, they’re only about five feet apart and there’s a roof covering the space, so it’s not a problem at all during the rain, snow, etc.
Thank you so much as well for your lovely words about the writing – I hope it brought you a bit of serenity this week in Toronto! xo
Candace Rose, such an eloquent piece of work. It just takes me to so many places. You have such an ability to enrapture your readers, and bring your experiences to our hearts. As always, your sketches are beyond beautiful, and I am soooooo looking forward to my coffee table book on display in my home one day. I love you and miss you, but having these writings keeps you close. Such a blessing, thanks.
Susie! It made my day to see your comment here – thank you so much for what you wrote, and for taking the time to look through these sketches 🙂 So just as I was sitting here writing you back, your mention of a coffee table book of yurt sketches gave me an interesting idea – I’ll send you a message soon about it! But I really love that you said these stories and sketches keep us close, that makes me so happy to hear – love and miss you loads too, and I can’t wait to see you again this summer! xo
Sorry in advance for fangirling all over you, Candace. I just find your writing to be so inspiring and beautifully done. I really hope that one day I’ll be able to write pieces like this! I also really appreciate that you take the time to reply to all your comments. One of the main reasons for me to have my blog is to connect with people, make new friends/acquaintances, etc., so it’s awesome when people engage. 🙂
Lisa, you are hilarious 🙂 Your comment truly meant the world to me, though, and was very humbling to read. What you said about hoping to write stories like this was particularly moving – I would just have to say that for me, it’s been about continuing to practice writing and storytelling…over the last year, I’ve really tried to open up here and keep the idea of story in front of me whenever I sit down to write posts. No matter what it is I’m wanting to share about here, I try to ask myself what the deeper meaning is – to draw out the connections that will then mean something to those who take the time to read my site. Thank you so much again for reading, and I hope to stay in touch!
Wonderful writing & sketches! I was thinking of you just last week while watching a documentary called “The Weeping Camel” as, while I knew you were headed to BC, and the documentary took place in Mongolia, the family lived in a yurt & I was wondering how you were making out. I’m so glad you are having this incredible experience and hoping another book comes of it. Happy trails. ♥
Thank you so much for your lovely comment, Roberta! It is always wonderful to hear from you. Thank you as well for mentioning the documentary – I hadn’t heard of it before, but now I really look forward to checking it out. And you know, my aunt also just mentioned that I should put together a book of yurt sketches, so now you’ve both got the wheels in my mind turning 🙂 In the mean time, I’m excited to keep sharing sketches from Salt Spring with you these next few weeks! Please take care, and I hope you have a beautiful spring.
Candace, this is such a fun housewarming introduction! I enjoyed the notes on your sketches – they share what really means to you and it adds so much to the already beautiful sketches and paintings. Makes me feel like I’m at home sweet home – thanks for sharing!
And thank you for reading, Andrew! I’m so glad you like the notes – those little annotations have become a big part of my sketching style…I now couldn’t imagine doing a sketch without them 🙂 I love the chance to capture a bit more of what’s going on around a scene – any little bits of overheard dialogue, certain sounds or smells, or even like in these sketches, just a small note on why something is significant for me. I look forward to sharing more sketches with you soon!
I love this post and thank you for sharing it! I know the feeling too well, living in Los Angeles for a decade… I’m about to take a seasonal job in the middle of nowhere in Montana and looking forward to the space you speak of. With no TV and phone service, I am going to get so many books read! Keep the suggested reading coming! Thanks again for your inspiration!
I’m so glad this post resonated with you, Jenny! It was amazing to hear as well about your upcoming job in Montana – what will you be doing there? That’s a state I’ve long wanted to visit, so you’ll have to keep me posted 🙂 And yes! I’ll definitely try to keep the book recommendations coming…I’ve been my own little reading spree here in the yurt, so lots more to share soon!
I love how you sketched the yurt from all different perspectives…and that you’re enjoying it!
Thanks, Alana! It was definitely a fun challenge trying to capture this little yurt on the page, so glad you enjoyed it 🙂
The yurt looks amazing, Candace! I, too, have a fascination with the wilderness and love reading books about people surviving on their own with nature. However, I grew up in a city and have yet to satiate that desire to ‘disappear’ for a while…. There’s still time, though! So glad you’re enjoying it 🙂 I bet that scenery is so very inspiring and motivating!
Thanks so much for stopping by, Lizzie – it’s great to hear we share a love for the wilderness, and I hope you’ll get a chance to keep exploring it and sating that desire 🙂 And the scenery here is indeed beautiful…so many evergreen trees, rolling hills, and rocky coastline. I’ll be posting more sketches of it soon!
Have you ever read about Thoreau’s experience of living at Walden Pond? I think you’d enjoy it.
Funny you should mention it JoAnna! Just last week, I saw that several of Thoreau’s essays are free to download for Kindle – I got Walden, as well as Nature, Walking, and Excursions…I can’t wait to read over them, as I’m a big fan of his 🙂 Thanks for stopping by, and I hope you and your family are doing well!
Such beautiful sketches Candace. It sounds just amazing, I’ve always wanted to stay in a yurt for a while. We ALMOST did so many times in Scotland. I’m supremely jealous right now, sounds icilic.
Thank you, Kellie! It’s funny how now that I’m living here, I keep hearing about yurts all over the place – a friend of mine is staying in one in Portugal later this year, my mom just discovered one to rent in California, and now I here about one in Scotland?? 🙂 They are definitely my new favorite way to live, so I’m excited to start hunting them down elsewhere in the world. I hope you and Rob are doing very well!
Candace, these are stunning drawings! I wish I could capture my surroundings in such a wonderful way!
Thank you, Laura! That means a lot – I am definitely grateful to be able to absorb new places through sketching…I definitely recommend giving it a try sometime 🙂
I’ve been saving this post for when I could sit, mug of tea in hand, and slowly take it all in. And, as always, you did not disappoint. Your words and sketches are so beautiful, and I loved every moment spent exploring your new temporary home. And you reminded me of all my favourite childhood books, many of which I share with your own favourites, but my big love was “Island of the Blue Dolphins”. I, too, used to fantasise of a life lived far removed from society, living off the land and learning to be one with nature. We are kindred spirits in so many ways, it seems. Lots of love to you in your little yurt. Stay warm, my friend x
Hannah, you’re not even going to believe me when I say this – but while I was digging up the books I used to love, one that I very nearly added to the list here was “Island of the Blue Dolphins.” I could only laugh and say ‘but of course!’ when I saw you mentioned it 🙂 But I’m thrilled you enjoyed this little yurt-warming…it’s funny in that all the things I am immensely grateful for here (the stillness, the nature, the space and time in which to be creatively energized) are what you yourself have said you love about your home in France – so although I do wish we were all together somewhere like this time last year, I still feel wonderfully connected to you and Kim! Sending lots of love right back to you, my friend, and I can’t wait for our paths to cross again. xx
Candace — It is so beautiful – and sounds so wonderful! I love the PNW, and can just imagine how amazing it is there in your little yurt. Have you read The Brothers K? It is one of my favorite books and takes place in the PNW — it certainly doesn’t have much to do with your situation, but it is all about the feel of the PNW.
Please, keep sketching and share those with us! I would love to see more, so I can be there vicariously!
Thank you so much for your lovely note, Aurora! And thank you as well for the great book recommendation – I was slightly confused at first, thinking you meant the Dostoevsky novel, but I’ve since tracked down the proper PNW-based one and can’t wait to check it out soon 🙂 And I am thrilled you’d like to see more yurt sketches! I just so happen to have a few more ideas for posts like this one, and I look forward to sharing them with you very soon. I hope all is well in NYC, and that we’ll be able to meet in person one of these days!
This nearly made me cry. I feel pretty lost at the moment, trying to find that place that feels right. It’s so wonderful to read such a beautiful description from someone who has found just that 🙂
Victoria, I can’t begin to tell you how much your comment resonated with me. The last several years of my life have been a quest to find, as you so perfectly put it, the place that feels right. I too don’t find it very often, and am all too familiar with that sense of lost-ness, which is why I think this lovely little yurt has meant so much to me so far. I’ll be thinking of you as you and Steve continue to journey through the world! xo
Hey Candace, I am so happy to see you spend time the way you are doing. I just came back from a small village at the base of the Himalayas. There was pin drop silence all around always. It was only broken by the bells around the neck of the cows, the sound of the nails of a cat/ dog walking up to my room or the sound of children laughing somewhere up in the hills.
Being at the base of Himalayas, all the elements of nature were of gargantuan proportions yet gentle and quiet. Have a good time at your new abode. Make some tea over firewood on that cold evening and wrap your fingers around the cup 🙂
Thanks so much, Gaurav! And thank you as well for such a beautiful, evocative little snapshot of your time in the Himalaya – I almost feel like I can hear those cowbells and laughing children here even in my yurt 🙂 I would love to explore more of the Himalaya in India one day, so I’ll be sure to get the name of that village from you then!
How many people in this world get to say they live in a yurt??? Amazing!
Haha, I know! I certainly never expected I’d get to be one of them 🙂 Thanks for stopping by, Andi, I hope you’ve been very well!
WOW! This was such a pleasure to read/see.
Also, I love listening to books on CD when I book-bind!! Right now I’m listening to the second book in the King Killer Chronicles and it’s a whopping 36 CDs long. I LOVE it though, so I’m quite content… I didn’t realize that there are audiobooks on youtube, but that’s great news for when I’m done.
Thanks so much! It’s always fun to hear from another Candyce/Candace 🙂 And I’m so glad you share my love for audiobooks – although I can’t imagine one that long! I’m actually thinking about experimenting with book-binding for the first time pretty soon and would love to see any ones you’ve already done? I took a quick peek at your blog and LOVE the leather journal you made – that would definitely be a dream to travel with. Are any of your other creations online?
Wow…I would so love to live there for a few months. I love the outdoors-y-ness, the fire, the view, all of it. You make it sound and look so inviting and relaxing. Such a good choice! Beautiful sketches as always!
Thank you so much, Corinne! This time in the yurt has showed me yet again how life knows best – it was a pretty random find on Craig’s List one afternoon last December, but it’s turned out to be the perfect place to work and write and live right now. I’m so glad you enjoyed the post, and especially the sketches! Thanks as always for reading and taking the time to say hello 🙂
There are grills on the window? I hate looking through windows with grills.
I also like the outdoors and would like to try sleeping in the open. I’ve read, early people in Mesopotamia have flat roofs and sleep on them on summer nights. And, the yurt’s dome made me jealous. Now, I would like a circular bedroom of my own with a transparent roof, too.
Do you love books? I do, I love Bridge to Terabithia too. Though I’ve never tried an audio book. How does it compare to reading on your own?
Lastly, I’ve looked on my friends’ notebooks a lot. Sometimes they let me; sometimes they don’t. But my really curious self keeps on doing it; now I’ve stumbled upon your blog. You write and draw a lot- and you’re willing to show it to people. Uhhmm, why? You even reply to each comment. Thank you for sharing these things to me! I really, really like it: your drawings, your photos, your writing.