Hi. I’m Jonathan.
I was raised in a rural corner of northeast Pennsylvania where the mountain laurel bloomed late and the dipsy-doodle swing hung from a meadow pine. My artist mother and a wilderness camp directing dad let me run free as a boy, rambling the woodlands in search of grapevines to swing and crayfish to pinch by the tails in the cold waters of the Pocono Creek. I wish I could have stayed 9 years old forever. All through high school and college my “future plans” (to my mother’s horror) were to buy a motorcycle, cross into Mexico and see how far south I could get – I never wanted to do or be anything normal. My rebellion was an alternating success and failure. There were stints in Central America, summers in the western mountain states, dead end jobs, half-realized dreams. Through it all was the compulsive urge to somehow pin it all down – to make something of the good and bad and the in between.
I’ve always liked words. Writing helps me define and organize things in my mind. It seems a way to somehow capture experiences and preserve them for the future – hopefully do them some justice. At the same time, writing is a continual challenge and learning process – an exercise in exploration and restraint that’s often both richly rewarding and very frustrating.
My writing life used to consist of me sitting on a tree stump in the woods scratching disjointed phrases into a Moleskine notebook that I hid under my bed. I’ve come to believe though, that creative projects are inherently meant to be shared – that they lose much of their value if kept private.
The Scrap Journal is my repository of ruminations, experiences, the sights & sounds that I wanted to be able to remember and share in a certain way. I like some posts better than others, but I think they’re all true in one way or another.
Thanks for reading, and I welcome your comments.