local to local

Daily observations at or near Two Dot Spot, written by hand on the backs of postcards that record with ink and coffee a few minutes of the earth's orbit around the sun. The cards are physically mailed from Two Dot, Montana to those who have requested them...local to local. Ruth Marie Tomlinson


When Carl, in Willa Cather’s O Pioneers!, returns to the farm he laments his life of freedom . “… off in the cities there are thousands of rolling stones like me. We are all alike. We have no ties. We know nobody. We own nothing. When one of us dies, they scarcely know where to bury us. Our landlady and delicatessen man are our mourners. And we leave nothing behind us but a front coat and a fiddle, or an easel, or a typewriter or what ever we got our living by. All we have ever managed to do is pay our rent.  the exorbitant rent that one has to pay for a few square feet in the heart of things.” But Carl’s friend Alexandra who lives on the farm, sees it another way. “We pay a high rent too, though we pay differently. We grow hard and heavy here. We don’t move lightly and easily as you do. Our minds get stiff. If the world were no wider than my cornfields, if there were not something besides this, I wouldn’t feel that it was much worthwhile to work. It is what goes on in the world that reconciles me.” She understands that it takes something beyond herself, two sides to make a coin: permanence and ephemera, roots and freedom, responsibility and spontaneity, cornfields and delicatessens, and for me, Two Dot and Seattle.