A Life in the Desert

For the past few years, Linda Hicks and Rachel Woodburn have been team teaching a Digital Storytelling class at Scottsdale community college...

The fruits of their -- and, of course, their students' -- labor can be found in the digital stories housed at the Maricopa Center for Learning & Instruction. Although I didn't have high expectations glancing over the thumbnails for each piece, when I started viewing the videos, my attitude changed. Again and again, I was impressed.

The pieces cover the waterfront, ranging from tone poems to family sagas. More than snapshots. Statements. A varied collection. Whether fragmented or full bodied, quirky or conventional, each personal and distinct. "Magnetic Attraction" about a woman who drew apart from her beau and then, years later, was reunited.
Or "Going to Clifton," a wordless reflection on a place, and people, important to the author.

Or "Making Do." A video that particularly spoke to me with its tale of a man seemingly rootless, unmoored (each day "unfolds as it unfolds under blasted, infernal heat"). Facing a blank slate, wide-open days, but the prospect more burdensome than beckoning ("I punch the clock and write the book"). Hewing to a self-imposed ritual. Creating a sense of order. Creating meaning.

Rick Stewart, the narrator, recounts his morning routine:

• Walking his ex-wife's dog
• Making tea
• Taking journal notes
• Doing yoga
• Going for a swim
• Preparing a pot of oatmeal, then his daughter's lunch

On the surface, nothing special. A chronology. A list of simple pleasures. But the presentation, and the language, make it something more.

An appraisal. Thankful yet melancholic. Infused with Zen acceptance. The words evocative: "I make the sun rise," "ends in a muttered chant," "before the desolate desert heat unfurls," "luxuriate in the womb of water," "let the Sonoran sun bake my bones dry." Not just a recitation of common moments but moments that are grounding, enriching, refreshingly predictable. Ordinary yet magical.

And a host of details: Itchy the dog, Irish and green tea ("with fresh ginger and honey"), "Tweedle-deedles," Steel Cut Oatmeal, Aunt Effie. Ending with Stewart's daughter -- the apparent (and understandable) centerpiece of his life. (Appropriately, like a photo or keepsake, the video is dedicated to her.)

Although brief, the video achieves what all good writing does -- connecting you with the circumstances, and humanity, of someone else. That shared sensibility. That bond with the author. I felt a kinship with Rick Stewart and that made me feel good.

"The rest is just ordinary day"... but what comes before?