FROM FAR LANDS

- defining Deeprespecting Hunting and Fly Fishing Philosophy

written and created by Jonas Sandison

"It was the masterful and incommunicable wisdom of eternity

laughing at the futility of life and the effort of life.

It was the Wild, the savage, frozen-hearted Northland Wild."

- Jack London, "White Fang"

Foreword

On the Dying Lands of Hunting

From a Hunter's Life

Towards Modern Hunting Culture

I The Fall

II The Borders of Vile

Towards Modern Hunting

Aforisms

Photography

Kuulumisesta erämaalle

Postmoderni Syväkunnioitusfilosofian sanakirja

Death travelling with untold winds...

Howls at night.

Wolves marking their lands.

To Mythos, not the skill of the fly fisherman, not to the art of the fly cast,

not to the battle won, but to the otherworldly strenght of the revered

Salmon, its life in the Sublime, its tragic return to loose its life and might

for offspring upstream, to the powerful stream that outruns it; to the king

of the Oceans, the Salmon, its mythic trek through the globe - the first

drink from your bottle of whiskey, on the shores,

belongs to the mythic Salmon.

Foreword

I live off a land that resents the life it has given, the animal kingdom. I've

hunted since the age of thirteen and since then, when my father took me

to duck ponds and showed me this way of life I had learned from books,

everything from the safaris and savannahs to Jack London before the first

hunting trip, I have belonged to the fall, to my hunting lands, to the dying

lands.

I'm not sure if I've belonged to the fall before that, but I know where I will

die, and live, and disappear, and come back from. I know to what and

why I owe my life to the wilderness, and I will answer that question in my

sketches and takes. I call it debt.

I'm a dog hunter, more a wolf than a human.

I have, today 11th of December 2014, decided to publish some of my

work on my Deeprespecting Hunting Philosophy as a free pamphlet, that

sketches and draws outlines and shows details from my forthcoming work

I have begun writing.

I want to thank especially Johanna Rasila, my symbiotic non-romantic love

of my life, whose unrelentlessness saved my life once, I owe everything to

you, and love you as a dear friend more than life itself, and refuse to live

a single day in this life without you. I wish you could be here today, when

I tell you, that I managed to tell a good story about a boy who was born

into a family, but who visited the Underworld... and became An Howl.

She said something to me, that will be a secret shared by the both of us.

Once - and we both were there, with the most dangerous men and

women on earth, who stayed silent - I heard the ravens. And decided to

mock life. And I did.

And I know I said that to you way before I really did that there.

I want to thank my father who made me into a hunter, gave me the fall,

from early on, since my childhood. He belongs to the wild, with the wild

caribou.

I want to thank Nosler Magnum Television for their best-in-the-world

hunting program.

I write about modern hunting, about my deeprespecting philosophy, and

the wild. I hope you like it. If you do, ask me to write the book.

In Ritaharju, on 11th of December 2014

Jarno Ahola

as pseudonym Jonas Sandison

tel. +358400151256

emai: jahenaho@gmail.com

To feel and know the savage land.

Hunting is in not being able to die where you live, in the last border.

On the Dying Lands and Hunting

It is a metaphysical battle of worldview, and death, redemption, yearning

for death from the dying lands, instinct versus a hunter, a facing, a battle

for life, a battle for action, a battle for existence, a battle for longing, to

face, to die, to find dominance and survival, and survive that, hunting. It is

a vibe, hunting, at best, deep action, the feeling belonging to the wild,

and about having a debt. Debt meant that you belonged nowhere else,

that your life was defined by the vile lands of fall, that you trekked

through something that resented life it had given to itself either by

accident or by reason. To a man there was no reason, but there was a

mind, a way, a deeprespecting balance of life, a circle of life, a hunter's

vibes of dying, death and redemption. A hunter never returned from the

wild when he left for the first time. He knew he would owe his entire life

to that, the feeling of not wanting to come back. Dying, a yearning for

death, that was hunting. Dying. Thinking about that, belonging to that

feeling of death a hunter had in him in the fall far lands. Metaphysics? A

reality defined by survival, a biological instinct to survive, a yearning for

death as contrary, a violin played violently, a prayer from the dying lands,

to die, and not leave, to stay, to find, to escape, to breath. Death, that

was hunting. The fall, the dying lands.

From a Hunter's Life

Irish beer.

...to the last border.

...at the pub, where they know about the vibe of kaira, the fall, and

survival.

A hunter left something behind.

Before he left for the last time.

Somewhere in the suffering landscape, somewhere too far, a fear took its

own.

From a Hunter's Life

A whisper of death in the stories of men at the pub.

To leave something behind is to disappear.

Towards Modern Hunting Culture

Ernest Hemingway wrote about Africa, the great white hunter, about the

first modern hunters. Hemingway wrote the first modern novel, The Sun

Also Rises, and was the first narrator of modern hunting culture with True

at First Light. He defined it in the first half of the 20th century. On top of

being the first modern writer, after sentimentalism that lasted until

Hemingway's modern masculinity and early action - living off being under

pressure waging wars, the first modern wars - permanently

revolutionatized novel writing and the concept of man, he also wrote the

first death male cult that could be found in both warfare and hunting, but

also in the documentary novel Death in the Afternoon, a book about a

public death, bull fighting, where death becomes a public ritual, a tragic,

dangerous battle, instinct and strengt against wit.

Hemingway's concept of death was the first modern hunter's experience,

that faded for decades, but returned and formed and became the modern

hunting culture, mainly the American hunting culture, of today.

Hemingway's Africa was the roots of modern hunting amd modern

masculinity.

Friction and male cult mentalities didn't arrive until a couple of decades

ago. The beginning of the modern gamesman's restlessness was in

mentalities, great dying fall forestlands, bear islands, salmon and trout

rivers, desolate, untouched wildernesses. Restlessness, or friction, was

born with the Metropol, a dangerous social experiment built over the

natural balance destroying it, dividing the world in two, the untouched,

and the maze.

”It as the asterful a d i o u i a le isdo of eter ity laughi g at the futility of life and the effort of life. It was the Wild, the savage,

frozen-hearted Northla d Wild.” Fro White Fa g. Jack London wrote about self-sufficiency, but his wild was already harsh,

full of danger and resentment towards life - London felt that the wild

resented movement and life. His life was the gold rush, pioneers, the self-

sufficient way of life. There was no cities, no hunting. Just the savage

Northrend wild. Sublime, silent, ageless, lifeless, the wild of Jack London

was survival, extremeties, the far end. "Incommunicable wisdom", lifeless

and eternal, the wild mocks every life it has given. To London it was God's

work, today it's read through contemporary popularized evolution. Life

wasn't planned, it has no purpose in its vile nature, dark, violent, hostile

to every inhabitant, it evolved into a complex instinctive natural balance

over the course of millions of years of battles for life, extinctions, ice

ages...

Modern hunting was born in the turning point where self-sufficient ways

of life faded, and life was no longer dependant of the wild wilderness. It is

a metaphysical battle that the hunter starts to wage with the untouched

instinct, a battle for life, and death, risking himself fearless for the vibe of

the last feeling of fall, and death. Modern hunting is in the turning point

where self-sufficiency disappears and is replaced by a yearning. The cities

- even though just an experiment with far reaching consequences, built

with intelligence and over history, layer upon layer - makes a hunter,

gives him his friction, his reality, hunting becomes the definition of reality,

the only reality, deeper existence, and the only land, the dying land.

A hunter yearns death from the dying fall, wants to live off death.

This was Heminway in many ways, unmodernized, the yearning. He was

the early form of it.

Modern hunting culture is most importantly the American modern

hunting culture.

Camouflage, hiding, animal behavior and modern popularized psychology,

gore-tex fabrics, optics, the compound bow patented in the late 1960s,

the turning from self-sufficient hunting into modern rifle hunting with

close distance bow hunting becoming the first option for hunters in

recent years because of its dangerous nature, and the test it has to the

hunter - he needs to know animals, hide, stalk, challenge, find...

Hemingway was there, but not modern. He was the roots to modern. He

is the roots to modern masculinity as well as hunting. He lived before

feminism, before gender equality: he treated women as his property, as

nothing, like all men did at his decades. That's why his female characters

are simple.

Americans started at some point challenging the titan into a rutting fight

with antlers. It probably is the purest form a hunter can face in hunting.

The shotgun was born out of forest industry: a shotgun shell kills small

game animals by damaging the vital organs, but don't damage tree

growth. The modern "timeless" shotgun, because the tradition of hunting

is somewhat contradictory, because in most ways it does not exist, is a

short distance weapon for small game, and as a mentality the strong vibe

of Fall and the true feeling of the dying lands for the hunter.

Fall became dying to the hunter. That's modern hunting, the moment

where death becames a yearning.

When did modern fly fishing begin? The moment when the fisherman

started giving the first drink to the King of trekkers, the salmon.

Impossible to endure, the trek of a salmon is tragic, it loses its strenght

and dies giving birth to the next generation, the same way Hemingway's

public death was a tragic bout, the salmon spawn is fundementally death

underwater during the fall months and the early winter. The strongest

ones pass on their genes. The salmon overpowers man in strenght, and in

trek. That's why it gets the first drink of whiskey matured for a decade in

oak barrels. Whiskey tasted a different time, it has timelessness to it, its

taste, just like the river's timeless, unlike man, who feels his death, and

knows it won't go away anywhere else except in the wild, where you feel

no friction about death.

My own father is a moose hunter. He talks about occassionally getting a

feeling of wanting to spare a titan running across his rifle scope, far in the

swamps.

He spares a titan in the far, calls his dog back.

My father has lost in life. He wants to give a titan a chance. He wants it to

kill him. He wants to die where he is alive, in the kaira. It is an afterlife,

the fall, it becomes that the latter side of your life, when a part of you

wants to leave this world, after you've lost in life.

My father has become the dying land, the kaira. Part of him wants to die.

Symbolic or not, most likely not, it's obvious to witness a titan in rut, in

aggression, how dangerous it is, his yearning is concrete, a wild death, in

his terms, the way he wants it to happen, in the place where he belongs.

He leaves off to his hunting lands with his Norwegian before the hunting

season, sets up a deadwood fire, lets his dog travel scents of moose. This

time it didn't find one, they were not around, not close. He returns, he

stayed for a day.

My father belongs to the travelling caribou, to freedom in the wild.

The nature of the wild is suffering. The life evolution has given birth to,

resents itself, just like Jack London wrote a hundred years ago without

having any information on, except maybe Charles Darwin, evolution and

life. The Bible was his guide. Modern hunter follows Jesus. He bears his

crosses, lives off the dying dangerous land, risking his own life, feels

redemption and afterlife, yearns for death. He belongs nowhere, but to

the kaira that he feels he owes his entire life to. It is a privilege to feel the

dying lands, and live off danger.

Jesus taught the world two thousand years ago, that there is an afterlife,

a life after this life. He turned world history in reverse, from this life to the

next. A modern hunter walks through life, his Via dolorosa, with a cross,

his burdens. Part of hunting is in the meditation of death, that is the dying

lands, the fall.

It is the only place, the kaira, where death becomes a drive, a feeling, a

passion.

Modern hunting? Friction, yearning, dying, trekking through,

deeprespecting, feeling might, feeling trek, feeling the savage life, its

battles. Respecting the savage wild, its survivors, their experience, their

dominance, their survival and violence.

The fall.

What is modern hunting? The dying land itself, the vibe of it.

I The Fall

Silence.

Bad whispers.

Blackness.

Dark vile.

A pump-action.

A clicking sound of the safety.

A hunter feels the kaira, his debt.

Somewhere in the fall.

Quiet.

Friction

What it is to feel friction? To long.

To feel the restlessness about not belonging.

You belong to your own feeling of not being able to live off from

anywhere else except the restlesness you are if you're a fly fisher and a

hunter, somewhere between the fields, far borders, dark salmon pools...

Friction.

Friction is what you are.

Can a fly fisher belong to a place?

If you spend 40 years in Patagonia, have you lived there the entire time

the river has existed?

What it is to feel endlessness?

What it is to drink expensive bourbon to the river, or let the trekker drink

first? A fly fisherman makes sure that his object of worship, the revered

Salmon, gets the first drink, if worn, won, beaten.

Mangled by erosion, rivers, they run salmon, wear them down.

Vast plains of grass and rocks, one feels pain for being out of place, not

having a feeling of belonging anywhere else except to the feeling of

belonging to the feeling of being lost. That's friction, never finding a

place.

Maybe the search for a place is the only place to be.

Ravens mark a path to a scavenge.

That's how reindeer shepherds find dead reindeer. They follow the

ravens.

It is also where wolves are, where the wolf pack is, if they hold a territory

there.

Raven calls from a distance.

It marks a natural death, the order of life.

Only ravens know where to look, where to find the wilderness.

Where to find Life, the battles for life.

Excruciating death.

Being eaten alive.

Only bears and moose die of old age, if they're fighters.

About Deeprespecting

Deeprespecting is an inner experience of an entirety. It is a season, the

fall. It is a wordlview about a year, and a meditation of and about facing

death, your own.

Deeprespecting is a panteistic worldview and an annual cycle.

Deeprespecting is about living off a land that is hostile to your own

existence in there.

Deeprespecting is about witnessing life in the wild. It is about a savage,

violent natural balance, that resents life, and movement of any kind.

Migrations, both caribou and salmon, survival and dominance in the

animal kingdom.

Deeprespecting is about the land, about the savage nature of it, that

resents life. Deeprespecting is both the nearest pheasant fields, and the

farthest borders.

Deeprespecting is mentalities about significant places: salmon rivers,

uplands, islands, geography, latitudes, wolf territories.

But it is about a season, about the dying land before winter. Animals

exhibit might and dominance during the fall, during the rutting season.

Winter months they survive, but during the fall they dominate. It is a

season of aggression.

The fall is the most dangerous of all seasons. The season of hunter killers,

moose, bear, elk.

The Kaira

The kaira is before death, before snow, winter. Before wolf's reign.

The kaira is everything before death.

The wilderness, the forestlands, remote, untouched by man, ruled by the

bear and moose, wolves. Kaira is the fall, the dying hunting lands, that

feels like it has an endlesness in it, the feeling of being at least on the

treshold to the far border.

It can be close, you're always risking being at the mercy.

Kaira is the morning mists, the cold hunter's twilight in the morning. The

dying birch. the suffering spruce. Kaira is the feeling of being somewhere

where it is easy to venture, and to think about facing, and dying, and

dissapearing. Kaira is somewhere where endlesness feels, the afterlife,

death, wanting to travel far, venture.

Kaira is the very definition of what it is to go hunting; you feel debt, you

feel the dying fall, you feel deep action. Kaira means that you know you're

a hunter, when you feel death as yearning, and going far a necessity one

cannot live without. Kaira is the definition of the hunter's image of the

wild land, his yearning, and life.

Kaira is a type of land, a fall land, a scenery, a feeling, where a hunter

feels his life is. It is a vibe of untouchedness, or remoteness in the place,

what a hunter looks for from his days in the fall. Kaira is longing,

restlesness, a vibe, a friction, but it is a type of vibe that doesn't breathe

death, even though it is a reminder of death, and breathing death, it is

serenity, a walk. Why does a hunter want remoteness? What is

untouchedness to a hunter? Everything. It is the essemce of longing, the

essemce of fall, the essence of breathing life and death, and facing.

Kaira is suffering spruce, untouched dark waters, creeks, mountains,

dying birch, dying dry swamp lands, every untamed, wild land.

Kaira is a savage, untouched land, a scenery, a hunter's venture deep,

somewhere close, or somewhere too far, it makes no difference to feel

death, and the dissapearing friction, dissapearing restlessness, if you

don't feel belonging.

...before bear hibernation.

Life

Life is death to a hunter. Dying. Living off a dying land. Life is to live for

your own death, if you're a hunter.

The wild wants to destroy its own life.

Both the natural balance and survival are cruel in their wild, the wild is

extremities, invisible to the human eye, serenity as well as action.

A hunter lives off a land that is both wild, and extreme.

Male Cult

The wild is in migrations, territories, nature types, latitudes, suitable

habitats, the natural and affected balance.

What are mentalities? Experiences shared, areas, islands, rivers, states,

uplands, grasslands, deserts, ponds, lakes, salmon rivers suffering from

erosion and melting ice.

Male cult mentalities are names and places shared by deeprespecters

about known bear islands, salmon and trout rivers, untouched

wildernesses, uplands, endless kairas, the natural hunting areas,

borderlands created by the nature itself. Male cult is knowing their

existence.

Huge salmon river valleys torn by the ice age, annual melting, travelling

ice, erosion, moving rocks, moving bottoms, pools, slowly changing

rapids. Spreading deserts. Dry sand corroding and burning trees and

bushes. Forest fires. The natural balance, slow changes, a balance of

horror and fear, a balance of extremities, hiding, fighting to survive,

fighting hunger, fighting excrutiating death, fighting getting eaten alive,

fighting getting torn by mangled ridges of rock. Animals living in summer

and winter pastures.

Latitudes, snow cover thickness, the growing ascetic latitudes.

The more north a hunter travels to hunt, Spain, Montana, Alaska, Finland,

the more ascetic the nature types become because of the growing

thickness of snow cover during the winter and the coldness of the time of

year, and the shortness of the growing season during the summer for the

biomass.

Ascetic wild. Suffering spruce, rocky tundra, ptarmigan uplands.

What it is to leave? And not come back. What it is to feel natural death?

What it is to feel the last border?

What it is to know migrating caribou and feel their freedom?

What it is to feel howls at night?

What it means to die yourself, in there, for the last time?

What it is to define yourself through death and hunting?

What it is to know salmon pools, dark and chrystal clear?

Male cult is to know the bear, know moose, wolves, howls, the night.

Know ravens. Know where they are, what they roam. Male cult is an

imaginary collection of mentalities, islands, that exist in the minds of

hunters, uplands, vast and small, trout streams, salmon rivers, routes to

the last borders... last borders. Male cult is in closeness and in the far, in

the dying land, and in the nearest rapid. It is both.

Male cult exists shared between hunters and fly fishermen. It is a

collection of the farthest and closest, the most dangerous and the most

easily attainable.

Male cult is in the hidden, in the unseeable, in what a hunter sees in an

island: bears, harems, salmon runs. Trout. Migration, natural balance,

dominance, survival. Or just in a rapid close to man's rule, the metropol.

Male cult is still in facing the rule of the bear and moose, and wolves, and

living it, but not necessarily.

Deep action

Deep action is in understanding that action is in witnessing battles for life,

in wtnessing life in the wild.

Deep action is the bear, the fear itself, the ruler of global North.

Deep action is in understanding, that no one else ventures to the wild

land during the fall. Other than hunters.

Hunters are not safe. They walk on the wrong side of the wind.

Deep action is in understanding what it is to be surprised by a hunter in

the wild.

Deep action is in hideouts, in running away, getting attacked if surprised

by another animal, or a hunter.

Deep action is the darkness of the night, when animals hunt and run, walk

on pastures.

Deep action is the wind direction, where fear lives and whispers that it

wants you dead.

About Lapinkota and Gamefires

The kaira was a feeling of friction gone. You were always bound to leave

from the wilderness you belonged to, still knowing you owe your entire

life to it, knowing that return was sure, until death. When you left for the

far, you left for the last time, metaphorically speaking at least; you always

knew you'd come back. There was always the dangers you felt, of being

attacked and killed by bears or moose.

It was a priviledge, to live off a land that had death in it.

To travel upstream. Let go.

The restless nature of a hunter gone.

The fall takes its own into a feeling of lasts, both for the animal you

decide to take, or spare. You weren't always even sure if you were even

going to take one, a titan, if you found one that was yours.

Debt. A hunter's life was to live off a land that resented you, tried to kill

you, tried to kill movement, escaping. The wilderness was a hostile place

to every inhabitant of its, and it was the hunter's priviledge to live off it as

a deeprespecter of both the dying, suffering land, and the animal might

and survival.

You learned. Survival was something that found new nyances all the time

to its presence in your mind's concept of the wild, your mind's natural

order, your mind's depiction of what it meant to witness, and live off

death and facing overpowering animals.

Define dominance. What did it mean, that a majestic caribou ruled year

after year? You took a prime at its height, a majestic king of a harem,

made sure it had followers to take the lead.

Somewhere far.

Lapinkota represented, and felt like it was the freedom you had, what it

meant to live off the lasts in life, the far, where you were at the mercy of

the savage wild, and the last, where you faced death. Hunting was in the

feeling of kaira, in the dying land that was your life in every sense even

outside hunting. It felt, kaira, throughout the year. It was your own

afterlife, your own death the way you wanted it to happen. It was the last

return, and the last trip. Risking death, and feeling it in the fall, that

meant you could breathe your fear, not the grizzly, but your own fear of

death.

The moose hound keeps watch, lying just outside the darkness, for fears,

just outside the kota.

The hunter carries both a bow and a rifle for a possible challenge.

Hunting was about the vibe of death you had in you, that meant that you

got to live off the land. Hunting wasn't in the end in the dangers of facing

and breathing death when taking the life of an animal, it was in the life

you lived there, meditating and breathing the lasts.

Hunting was always in the land itself, the idea of its hostility, its dying

season, and its dangerous animals. Hunting was the natural order there

was, and about learning. It was witnessing Life, it was about staying in a

land that died. It was about leaving, and thinking about a land that felt

was inhumanely cruel to life.

The land, the lifeless, suffering wilderness that asked for redemption in a

hunter's mind. The land. The fall. The dying land. Face.

Stay.

Leave something behind. A tale.

A fire burns out.

A life ends. A gamefire is about life, the fear of darkness. A hunter's life

happens around the camp fire. A trout or a tenderloin. An Irish beer.

A burning deadwood stump. A hunter's presence above the treelines as

smoke..

The wild starts to wake up, disappear, and hide itself from man, into the

dark, i to the morning...

II The Borders of Vile

Vast canyonlands.

A breath of desolate.

Breathing death.

A whisper of blood and bones in the air.

A coyote finds something to steal from canyonlands of bad sands.

On canyons.

Hell of sands.

Dead air.

Somewhere a breeze.

Breathing death.

Dead air mocking life.

A begging prayer.

Wild death.

A desolate vile wind over canyonlands.

A hollow.

The burning sand.

On Life

How much, in the end, was the endless hostile to its own inhabitants?

How badly did the wild want to reject movement, life? It was hostile, and

violent, the fall especially, when animals battled for dominance and for

changes in passing strong blood. It singled out survivors, the strong ones.

Why did the wild treat its inhabitants without conscience, without

remorse? Why was the wild so reluctant in accepting that it had given life,

but treated it with disdain? Did it need to accept that?

Was the wild hostile to its own life? It was.

A hunter enters this vile land. He sees his debt, and priviledge, his chosen

path, and the natural death he feels as yearning. The hunter's a

deeprespecter of the animal world. He chooses to live off, either from the

closeness, or by going far, and too close.

Hunting is not necessarily in facing, in the danger, in survival, or in fear. It

can be deep action in somewhere near, pheasant fields, whitetail plains.

It is still stalking, hiding, tracking, witnessing, but not the type where you

venture, go deep, challenge, witness, and possibly face.

The wild's hostility towards its own, to its own existence? Why was the

natural balance a balance?

A ptarmigan changes its feathers before winter. It is vulnerable, too

visible for awhile before snowfall with its half suit of brown and white. Its

laughter still mocks the hawks, owls and the hunter as it flies through the

rocky uplands, through the suffering mountain birch.

Somewhere a bear. It has gotten used to not yielding. It doesn't have to

be afraid of the hunter, either. It just starts to stalk you, retaliate, a

hunter would think. It is a game they play, hunters and bear, of winds,

getting surprised, getting tracked, faced, challenged. It's a maddening

game of survival, violence, the natural balance, arrogance, power,

dominance, battles. The rest of them survive, but not the bear or the

moose, unless they are weak.

Somewhere a deer cuts its leg going across a stream. A savage life. In the

dark, the wolves have their travelled paths in their territory. Will they

cross? Does the deer hear their howls? The fear.

A wolverine. Ravens. A weak one gets eaten alive.

The weakened...

A hunter finds dominance to admire, witness it in its prime, at best at its

battles. He survives like the rest of them, but returns to his Metropol, the

city.

What a hunter finds in the wild is silence. Winds, the sound of ravens.

Invisible signs to follow. Animals hide. Bears kill you if they are surprised

in the kaira. Even they hide during the day.

Why is the balance so interested in getting rid of all life? Why is the wild

hostile to itself? Why does the wild and kaira mock any effort of life?

Why do you want to die in there, in the fall, somewhere too far?

The Far Border

As opposed to the last border, which is about death, and not about a

specific place, the far border is an idea, an abstract, and a place most of

all, and a definition, that starts from the point where you feel you're at

the mercy of the land.

The far border is the wilderness, the kaira.

It is the feeling of knowing that you owe your life to the dying fall, and the

lands of death.

Debt

The last border is the afterlife, a vibe of death when in a far land, the

feeling of not wanting to return. The last border is every facing.

The last border is a kind of a redemption. The far border is where you feel

it.

Afterlife.

Far Border

The wilderness starts from where you have to stay overnight. From the

point where you cannot come back in one day. Where does the last

border start? Does it exist? It does. It's the endless.

Without end. At the far end, where streams flow free, where they start,

where they end. The tundra, forestlands, valleys. Kaira.

Where salmon and caribou migrate....

The impossible, the Sublime treks man cannot endure.

To face is to feel the gaze of your fear. And take its life.

To be on the far border is to Feel death.

It is the only place to breathe the dying land and its nature.

The last border is your last place. It is facing your own nature as a dying

land. It is at its best when conquering an instinct by challenging it, facing.

It is the land of bear, both fears, both the grizzly and the brown bear.

Survival and dominance

The wilderness, and life in the wilderness, is surviving in impossible

circumstances. Winter, hunger, the hostile land, hiding from predators,

constant danger, escaping, hiding. Life in the wild is, even though the

wilderness appears quiet during the day, when most animals are hiding,

fear of excruciating death, being eaten alive, left severy wounded by

either running or rutting.

Battles for life take place.

Battles for dominance take place.

Both in hiding from plain sight.

Sparse.

The wild is a constant chase by predators, wolves, lynxes, cougars, the

bear, both brown and grizzly, eagles, foxes, hawks.

Life being chased.

Life in fear.

Life of bleeding and being eaten alive.

The wilderness at night, when the darkness hides the nature of the wild

from man.

Wounded animals.

Water sources. Rutting territories. Scent marks. Wind directions. Day

hides. Winter pastures. Territories. Migratory routes.

Blood

To witness a battle for survival or dominance.

A wolf pack surrounds a muscox for days.

A hungry spring bear stalks a caribou.

To dominate. To face. To feel a might.

What it is to find dominance and survival?

What it is to repeat a search? Find a titan again. Witness its might, its

prestige. Lure, track, search, spare. A hunter's identity is in the search,

and in the spare: a hunter functions on a logic of finding dominance,

challenging it, conquering the might of the wilderness.

What it is to witness dominance and survival?

To witness rut is to see power and might first hand, up close, feel animals

in their power, in their presence. Feel deeprespect. Feel blood, a battle

for dominance, hierarchy. Witness the victor pass its genes onto the next

generation. A hunter feels that might when he looks through the scope,

and takes the life of a survivor at the height of its years. An animal who

has not felt what it is to loose, what it is to yield. It knows what it is to

survive, what it feels to hide, what it is to dominate.

A rut.

A king of a harem.

A fear, a bear in its solitude and aggression. In its silent walk, and its

violent, exploding attack.

A whitetail dissappearing before you sense its presense.

Witness blood shed for hierarchy, for rut, for dominance. To see a caribou

bleed after a battle for its harem's rule.

Blood passes onto the next generation. The strongest bloodlines,

survivors, the dominant ones, the violent ones, the merciless.

Fear

The wilderness is unrelentless in its nature, neglegent towards its

inhabitants' suffering and survival, or attempts to survive, and procreate.

The wilderness is hostile towards its living beings, the animals. The

natural balance is silent, sparse, it has a language of its own, hidden in

scent marks and raven calls.

What it is to feel fear? A hunter has no fear in him, it is the nature of the

wilderness, that is fear. The wilderness is fear in the language of man,

even though instinct knows no such thing in its mind.

What is fear? A bear, a grizzly, a brown bear.

Survival is fear. A hunter feels no fear, only death. A hunter faces, and

feels no fear, only facing a life of fear.

Witnessing is seeing fear. Or seeing might. Dominance. Deeprespect is

born out of witnessing the power animals have.

The death of an animal... how it starts to kneel after a hundred metres,

loosing its might and prestige... it doesn't go down easily, it's might is still

there, it can take you. A fear starts to stalk you, it's aggressive, it'll hunt

you before it goes down, an elk's might dissapears slowly... it's full of

survival. Full of life, attack, fear, pain, it's dominance plain to see before it

looses its life.

What it is to feel fear? It is to know what it means to be eaten alive. A

hunter feels no fear. Fear is to witness lions hunt a gasell by slowly

wearing it down by taking turns on the vast savannah. Fear is to see a lion

leap from the tall grass. Fear is to see wolves eat. Fear is to see dark

ravens fly to a carcass.

What it is to dominate? A titan, a might, that passes its genes year after

year to the next generation, a survivor, who has real prestige in its

antlers, dominates a rutting territory year after year. What is his rule?

Why does it rule? Where is its prestige, its strenght, its dominance? It is a

survivor, a strong one, a true ruler of the wild? Where is his dominance?

A hunter wants to challenge this might, this survivor and ruler, right

before it starts to fade. What does its surviving and dominance mean?

Why does it rule its kind fall after fall?

A titan dips its beard to a hole full of its own urine to attract cows. Its

antlers challenge to blood, its shere ruling strenght and power wants to

challenge especially a weaker hunter, a stranger, a challenger, a threat to

his rule. Moose are aggressive, hostile, during the fall, during the rut.

A hunter's only vibe of fear is not to be able to go back to the place where

he belongs, to what he owes his life to, the kaira, the last border.

What is fear? It is invisible, a word an instinct doesn't feel or live by. Fear

is the wilderness, it is the nature of the wilderness. Fearlesness is what a

hunter's mind finds from the wild, his restlesness is about not being afraid

of death when facing something overpowering.

Normally hunting is not about facing. It is searching, finding the escaping,

taking down a small animal, a whitetail. A trek through ptarmigan

uplands. Hunting is the fall, the vibe of living off a suffering land. It is a

serene, deadly land, dangerous, but quiet.

Fear is somewhere else. It is in the last border.

Somewhere where a hunter wants to face.

What fear is if not facing Life in a fearless mind?

On Suffering

The purest form of facing is to challange something overpowering.

The suffering land, kaira, the dying lands of fall.

The suffering. Silent fear of being chased and eaten alive.

Death. The night. The suffering Christ. Via dolorosa.

The wilderness asking for redemption through its silence that felt like it

mocked the very painful reality of its own nature. It was still sparse, the

wild, and the painful survival was and happened in silence.

Animals suffered in silence. A deer got eaten alive. In pain, silent and

kicking, still breathing, while the wolves started on its lungs, digging

through the opened stomach and herbivore intestines...

The wilderness would mock every visitor, every hunter if they ventured

far. The fall was Death. Serene. A place without friction. A place of rest.

A place of lasts at the same time, if far.

A place of no return.

A place to die.

A place to feel death.

A place to feel alive.

A place to breathe death.

Winds lie to a hunter. They don't talk like they talk to a wolf.

It's the kaira that talks to a hunter. The fall. The dying land. It says to

dissapear. Die. And feel that for awhile.

The shotgun's weight in your hand, classical wood. A trek. Somewhere a

bear.

Capercaillie's wings over the lanscape. Mid air, it's life's lost.

The Underworld

A shaman travels to another reality. Another plain of reality to ask for

guidance from the spirit world and the inhabitants of it. Advice. A

solution. A cure for a disease. You come back, wake up, as you would

from a dream. You were gone, unconscious, your soul left, dissapeared to

another world.

The world of the dead.

The world of the Ghost Hunter. An archetypal wolf.

Power animal is a shaman's true being.

To hunt. To turn into a wolf.

Raven, black as night, smell a carcass. Call signs to others to follow it. It is

a wolf's companion, the raven, a death, a follower of the wild's nature,

hunting, fear, hiding, getting eaten alive. Blood, intestines, bones

devoured by a pack of wolves. There's still a lot left for the scavengers.

To dissapear.

To feel restless.

Jack London. "- - man who is the most restless of life, ever in revolt

against the dictum that all movement must in the end come to the

essatio of o e e t.” ”Life is a offe e to it, for life is o e e t; and the Wild aims always to destroy movement."

From White Fang.

Life. In death. A hunter's life is to feel death, have it in him his entire life

as kaira, and the last border.

A ghost hunter's cave. Wolf pups are born blind. The breeding female dug

her pups a cave in a sand ridge somewhere in the core areas of their large

territory. Once they grow, the wolves of the pack will teach the pups of

the breeding pair the basics of hunting skills with dead mice and wounded

small game animals. Predators tend their offspring. Herbivores are born

to run.

To hunt on fields and plains. On open terrain with a bow. To stalk up close

where it is impossible to be.

Far border is the feeling of being at the mercy.

The near, the plains of mule deer and coyotes, stalking and feeling the

fall.

The near border. Hunting. The vibe of fall. Stalking. Hiding. Searching.

The first snow.

Snowfall.

Howls breathing winter.

Dark skies of ravens.

Vast valleys of snow.

Tracks of howls lurking across.

Ghosts of winter.

Lands of white over quiet.

The last migrating ducks to the South.

Somewhere far a raven finds the first of the rule of the howls.

Of Life

Life. Via dolorosa.

A suffering Christ carrying a cross.

A road, paved with blood.

Life's burdens, sorrow, hatred, cruelty, portrayed, inhumane, in the

beaten body of the Christ, the one who taught about the afterlife. Ex

cruciatus. Excruciating. Latin. Off the cross.

Blood.

To bleed.

To carry.

To travel to the last border for the first time, before life. Slowly find

afterlife.

To leave for the last time.

To return.

A hunter's life is to carry a cross, a burden. A hunter's life is to feel death.

The Last Border

Life and death.

Facing death.

Being at the mercy of the wilderness, the savage, vile, violent land of

hunting, the fall. To live off a natural balance.

To face in the last border is to feel a hunter's challenge.

To feel like you owe your life to the wilderness for the vibe of life, and

death, and most of all, the vibe of fall it has given you. To feel the debt of

knowing and feeling a sure return. Or is it leaving?

You leave for the last border. When will you leave for the last time? Do

you leave?

Returning. Taking a life.

To owe one's life to a dying land, to a passing time of year. To feel natural

death, and challenge that. Face a titan in a dying dance.

In the last border you're dead. And most of all alive. In a witnessing state

of challenge. The land feels no mercy, it has no obligations, no purpose,

no reason - it is a lifeless dying land, savage in its nature, vile, unforgiving

for the wild animals that live it by trying to survive. It is a neverending

struggle to escape, to hide, to top, to lure, to hunt the weak for a better

chance. A hunter tries to find, to return, to challenge, to witness survival

and dominance. To learn the natural order, the natural balance, its violent

nature, its darkness.

A hunter wants to feel alive. He finds it in the closeness of death.

There's death in taking a bear with a rifle from afar, from hundreds of

meters distance.

These's a death, your own, in taking a grizzly with a bow.

A hunter feels like he belongs to a land, that treats him as an enemy every

second. It is a dangerous, sparse place of danger, serenity, life and

death... life is death... life is already being dead... and a life that is a game

of survival and extremities.

Hunting is knowing what it is to face a metaphysical death that defines

your existence, hunting is the search for the definition of it, trying to find

the core to what it means, the attempt to live it. A hunter is defined by

the idea of being bound to the vile land, the dying kaira and the fall with a

rifle and a bow, being tied to freedom and life. It is the hunter's mind that

exists somewhere else, in a challange, in the friction of never belonging to

a single place. A hunter leaves, and never returns. He just leaves again.

Claws.

A deer has teared his aggression to a tree marking his dominance. Its

sound and dominance echo through the fall woods. Isohirvi.

A hunter witnesses rut. A battle takes place, full of power, dominance,

aggression, instinct. A whitetail buck tears another.

Take it, it's yours. You've witnessed it's nature.

It's the vibe of survival in witnessing surviving, dominating animals that

you are. You don't survive, you witness.

A wolf pack hunts every couple of days in its territory. Hunger.

Survive.

A wounded wolf bleeds to death.

The last border? An instinctive attempt, where you're already dead. But a

hunter is exactly that, already gone, lost, leaving, not coming back, not

feeling anything but out of place, searching for existence, challenges.

Witness. Go far. Don't return.

Whiskey

The feeling of natural death. There was never a return if you left for the

last border. What was the difference between the far and the last?

The last border is death, and the afterlife, the vibe of fall and the vibe of

kaira. The last is a moment where you have to face.

The far is your existence in the fall, i understanding and feeling that you

owe your life to the lands for the privilege of getting a chance to live off it

by way of deeprespecting.

The last border is where you feel and face, not only animals, and their

possible vile, but also your own fear, fear of death.

It felt like you owed your entire life to the wild fall. It was a privilege, to

feel like you belonged to a place that felt only violence, that's only form

of existence was fear. Debt meant that you belonged to your own death,

and felt it through the fall, the season that made every life hostile even to

itself. Life was hostile to itself in the wild, treated itself as an enemy to

itself through suffering. It was still a balance, but a savage one.

To die in witnessing life. To dissapear. To live without dependence.

Whiskey from a kuksa tastes wild in the cold fall. It tastes another time.

It tastes deeprespect.

It tastes something permanent, like the wild, it doesn't change, the taste

of it.

From barrels of oak. Matured for a decade.

You drink to the titan, a moose taken, to the survivor, and if it's a might, a

dominant at the height of its years, it tastes wild, your drink.

You'll drink to birds. To the wild.

Bird hunting is days in the fall.

Paddling through creeks of black waters in a duck canoe.

Depths.

You'll drink to salmon. They're the only ones who get the first drink.

To the myth, the trek.

About Wounds

A wounded paw.

A hunter's life is in witnessing... in leaving, and not returning.

A hunter's life is in his wounds. In his life.

In wounded animals. In the fear that is the wild.

In the fearlessness of the hunter.

Bears fight over salmon. Scarred faces, backs...

A hunter's scarred like the animals are, but from the inside.

Jesus, the suffering Christ, is the image of a hunter, the intestines, insides

of a hunter, the mind of a hunter.

Fear. Life. Fearlessness. Facing death.

Life without fear, scarred like the animals are, a hunter leaves for the last

time without thinking about his return.

Somewhere a deer gets eaten alive. A wolverine finds a half eaten moose.

On Hunting Plains

A coyote laughing at the plains. It runs from its hideout out into the open

to a carcass. If it is lucky, it'll get a leg or what's left of the intestines.

Harem's have their scouts, alert for predators when in the open and

vulnerable. They're also in a place of safety. The open land gives them a

chance to run from afar if surprised. Beaten trails give them cover: they

don't need to watch where they step, they can keep watch for wolves and

bears while they run for the next hideout.

Herbivores eat their calves' placenta to hide their scent, and lick their

offspring clean. A new life of running has made its first step in the world.

To run.

Plains. Grasslands. The savannah. Valleys. The tundra. Open lands.

The near fields and grasslands. Mule deer. Whitetail. Taking a deer means

something else outside lands of death. They still attack if you stalk too

close. That's still where you want to be with your bow, too close, right

there, where it is impossible to get. To stalk, to sneak, before they run.

In the near border where a hunter doesn't challenge, doesn't survive.

Deeprespecting

Deeprespecting is about the wild, it is about finding your own meditation

of death and eternity, geology, geography, territories, lands vast and

small.

Deeprespecting is about gathering meet. About living off the violent fall,

about living off animal dominance and survival, witness survival, think

about the dying lands, and your own dying land, your mind's restlesness

of wanting to face in eternal lands mangled by erosion, ice ages, passing

winds and ice every spring tearing river bottoms, making the river new for

the fly fisher.

It is never action in the same sense an outsider looks at hunting,

understands it before he steps into the world. It is inside your mind, in

the lands that become you slowly. You become a landscape of dying, you

become the kaira, a landscape of death. You become symbiotic to the

wild.

About Death and Birds

A hunter disappears to the wild. A cold morning, cloaked in mists.

The dying land only talks about its invisibility to the hunter's senses. The

wild is always somewhere else, outside your senses, in winds, scents,

urine, sounds, howls.

It's a guessing game for the hunter, reading the wild, living off it from the

winds that reveal nothing.

Why does a hunter feel like he is alive in the land of death, living off the

sparse, vile land?

A shotgun's weight at your hand.

Ravens somewhere far.

Dark ponds. Depths. Dying fields, birch loosing their prestige. To the

hunter it means life, when birch show their hollow branches that try to

reach the sky, the last breath before a life is over, a place to feel alive, a

place to die in your own terms, to the cruel game of the wild.

There's a hunter's vibe of death in the kaira.

There's death in disappearing, leaving, in migrations.

There's freedom in wild caribou.

Shot ducks in dark ponds.

Bird hunter's a trickster, as well as a vanderer. He walks through the kaira,

vanders off to the lands that remind him of his Far, tricks a call, a

capercaillie falls to his aggression, it's dominance with the hunter's

imitation of its competitor.

To vander off, to trek.

To think about death in a land that makes you feel you're alive.

Bird hunting's a trek, a reminder that you live off the land of titans, of

wolves, of the bear. It is a quiet place, full of dangers, big game. It is in the

hunter's far, where you face and challenge... witness.

It might be in the wait for the return to the far border, or to the last, to

facing death, what it means to vander in bird lands.

Pigeons, ducks, grouse.

Trekking through uplands. Ptarmigans revealed in their half white

feathers.

Escaping birds somewhere, flapping winds. The quiet hunter failed to

approach.

Timeless wood in a timeless, yet modern shotgun.

Tervaskanto. Gamefires.

The quiet wilderness.

Somewhere a bear dissapears to the winds. Bears shy away from a

strange smell of a hunter. It'll kill you if you walk against the wind.

Wild birds dissapearing. Their escape is loud, flapping winds, they're not

like owls, soundless, fast predators.

The morning yields to the last rays of the sun.

The fall is about learning what it is to live: it is to die. And to feel alive is to

hunt, to feel the kaira in its prime, in its dying nature.

The last rays of the sun. Before life fades. A feeling of being alive in a

place of lasts.

The dying land starts to turn into death, and into Night, into an howl.

Winter.

A modern hunter's a vanderer.

Migrating ducks in the sky, to the south. The savage North starts to turn

quiet. Land birds hide under the snow the entire day. A fox tries to stay

warm. Falcons migrate to the Middle East. Bears hibernate. Only wolves

and moose play their maddening game of survival in the land ruled by

death's white presence.

Raven sounds in the vast silence, just like in the fall.

What does it mean to hunt birds in the Fall?

It is in the kaira, the vibe of it, where a bird hunter wants to be, in the

quietness of the closeness of the far border. It is in the trek through the

lands of the titan. It is in the taste of the land birds, in the taste of the last

ducks, where a hunter is.

It is in the flocks, in their hiding from the falcons.

It is in the gamefires, harvested birds hanging from the deadwood.

The day pack. Kuksa, warm, black coffee in the cold warming the hunter's

intestines.

Deadwood, the suffering wild, the lifeless silvery wood reveals the wild,

its life in death, in suffering, in agony, begging for redemption from the

depths of the sky. A carcass reveals its cruelty the wild's.

A bird hunter vanders off. Wants to be in the cold lands of death, where

the wilderness reveals its cruel nature; that life is death, that you are

always dead when alive, that the only place to live is to vander off to a

land that smells fear.

What was fear, if a hunter doesn't feel fear? It was the wild, that existed

as that, fear, it was the wild that had it as its wild, had it as its face, its

nature.

A bird hunter's a vanderer by nature. He's a trickster sometimes, imitating

aggression, mating, procreation, imitating instinct.

To trek through uplands, or kaira. The friction gone for awhile.

A bird flies off your feet. Cut a flight with a shotgun. Set up a fire.

Somewhere far a hunter feels his place in the lands that want him dead.

Within

Hunting is a way of life, serenity, meditation, a death cult, a male cult, a

yearning for death, deeprespecting, facing death within, not necessarily in

an attack by a bear, even though it happens every once and awhile. It is

usually the hunter that gets killed by a bear during the fall. No one else

ventures far.

On Action

Action is in the awareness that at anytime you might have to kill for self-

defense, either a moose surprised in its hideout, or a bear, surprised in its

hideout. A hunter has a shot or two, three if he's lucky, to stop an animal

that has power and might over you, an animal that doesn't stop after a

couple of bullets.

It's in the annual cycle, the year, the awareness of the dangers of big

game animals.

Action in hunting.

It's quiet, rare.

Every move is dangerous in the wilderness during the fall, even though

the wild is extremely sparse. You can move during the day, if you don't

surprise them from underwind. You won't meet moose or bear, they're

long gone if they take your scent.

A shotgun hunter is somewhere deep, he feels the vibes of fall.

Live off the dangerous land, its silence, land that hides itself in raven calls.

A bear doesn't fear you, it starts to stalk you if you wound it.

A titan walks a hundred metres before its might starts to fade. It attacks

you if it knows you were the one who wounded it.

A majestic's rule is by blood and antlers, power unimaginable.

Action.

It is a shot to a bear from 800 metres.

You see it fall.

You breathe death.

Why?

You know it, you know what its presense feels like.

The fear of the wild.

It didn't attack you, but you know it has been there before, in the fields of

pheasant, in the islands and tundras and salmon river shores. It breathes

you, sees you, smells you. You know what it's like.

Don't take the shot if you're a hunter.

It's just yours, there, you stare into its eyes through your rifle scope,

without a shot.

Walking through fields of pheasant. It's the fall that gives it is nature.

Fighting a salmon is action. Being on the river is serenity, if in Teno river

valley, or action, if in the Alaskan untouched. Fly fishing action is in two.

It's either the crystal clear waters, and the battles, or restlesness, of living

off the wild lands, dangerous territories, salmon runs of the bear. The last

border is action. Hunting bow is action, it happens up close.

It is action, fly fishing, if it overpowers you.

It is action, the untouched.

Even though sparse, the violent lands of fall resent you, want you dead.

It is the hunter's nature to go against that vibe, live off it, fearless.

Face.

Leave.

Animals defend themselves, live in hiding. They attack.

Aggression.

A hunter's vibe is to stalk close.

Towards Modern Hunting

What was modern hunting? Hemingway wrote the first modern novel. He

was the first modern hunter as well, the archetypal great white hunter, a

lion hunter, who saw the truest Africa at first light, it started to lie in the

afternoon. Why was it? I couldn't remember why. Why did it become a

lie?

Lions hunt at night. A hunter starts to see at twilight, in the first light.

When does modern hunting start? Where is it? When did it become

something else than a self-sufficient way of life? When did it get its reality

defining quality? When did a hunter find his only reality in the violent

survival attempts of the animal kingdom? When did hunting become the

land of death? When did you start to live off it, the feeling of dying,

breathing animal blood?

When did wolves return? They were gone for a hundred years.

When did it turn in reverse? When did a hunter's mind turn into a dying

land? When did a hunter start to want to dissappear?

When did hunting become the last border?

The feeling of dying. The land of natural death. The natural balance. The

fall. Fall. Death. Dying. To dissapear. Conquer a fear, a bear. Witness

migrating majestic, the caribou.

When did hunting become dying in a far land, that's hostile to your

existence, the existence of everything, hostile to the existence of itself?

To dissapear. To conquer a fear. It was in looking through your scope, and

thinking about taking it, a hunter. Being lucky this time.

Go far. Track your fear for days. Take it with deeprespect towards its

overpowering might.

Modern hunting? It's in the feeling of it defining your existence in the

world. A vibe you're unable to live without, the vibe of both taking, and

owing.

Debt.

That you're bound to your own death.

Bound to living off migrations and natural balances.

You're bound to the city. Longing to be far. On salmon rivers casting a fly

over a dark pool.

Male cult. A pool is a mentality in a river, that means something to

hunters and fly fishers. You read it, the stream. Take a traveller, a fighter,

a sublime king of rivers, a Salmon.

Take a shot of whiskey to your fear. Deeprespect your vibe of the last

border. To sparing and witnessing.

To returning, and not wanting to.

To leaving.

To titans. To survivors.

Where is modern hunting? It has to be in the restlessness, in longing, in

death and dying, in feeling your own debt to a land, that's ruled by

violence and fear.

The serenity of the fall. The serenity of wanting to die. The one place you

don't feel fear in. Deep action. Kaira. Fall.

Take a life.

Modern hunting. Where is it? When did it begin? Can they say, or talk,

those who don't want to return? Those who've stayed there? Those who

are still there? To long. To leave.

To breathe death.

Take a long-range shot to a bear. Take a breath. Feel deeprespect.

Go close.

Let it find you.

Facing is breathing death.

The wild happens during the dark hours, when man is unable to see it in

its true. A fox steals a leg. Ravens. Wolves eat their prey to the bone.

There's nothing left.

Darkness. Fear. Howls at night.

The wild happens in the dark.

It is the first light when a hunter starts to see.

That's where a hunter looks at his fear in the eyes through his rifle scope.

That's where a hunter looks at the titan and challanges it into a dying

dance.

Fields of pheasant before dawn. Crops soon to be harvested. A Pointer

finds a rooster from the wheat. A shotgun cuts its flight mid air.

Hunting has timelessness in it, but it's not really timeless when you look

at the history of it, the short modern. Shotgun feels timeless, it's classical

in some way, made of quality wood, but it's a new form, a modern culture

without any history. It started from the idea of dying over living.

A moose tells you, you're gone with a figure eight. It's about to attack. If

you're lucky you get a shot before it does it. It's aggressive during the rut,

during the fall, during the hunting season.

What is to die in the land of death? In silence, in the last border? What

did you leave behind?

Somewhere a wolf lies wounded from a battle between his pack and a

weaker moose. It won this time, even weakened it managed to survive.

Only one in ten attacks are succesful. It tries to get up, but falls to loss of

blood. It is seven years old. Wolves rarely live longer than that.

A rule of the wilderness. Hunger. Battles.

What it is to learn natural balance? What it is to feel wanting not to come

back from the last border?

Everything.

Silence.

Raven call signs from a distance.

Suffering spruce, the dark woods over the fall dying lands.

Go far.

The dying lands of fall making way to a hunter's last.

Do you come back?

You feel debt, you feel not returning, you feel like you owe a life to a

dying land.

The fall.

Death.

Silence again.

Aforims

The far border is about survival. About not wanting to return.

Survival is the vibe of the last border.

Survival is in witnessing fear.

Hunting is a drive defined by extremities and death.

Hunting is not Hunting, if it doesn't involve a philosophy of survival and

dominance.

Hunter's own death in a natural balance is where he feels he belongs. It is

his debt and a privilege.

Debt is a hunter's oath, a feeling of understanding what it is to hunt.

When hunting turns into deeprespecting, it turns into a metaphysical

battle for survival.

A hunter's task is to know how to see through a code that masks itself

into night, into silence.

With every encounter a hunter knows he's in his final place;

his shots won't at that distance make any difference.

Hunting is a symbiotic feeling of danger and serenity, where a natural

death becomes a longing and the definition - and the danger of being too

close a deeprespecting challenge.

Hunter's own death is a drive.

When you take an easy shot to a bear, and see it dissapear wounded, it

doesn't run

- it starts to stalk you from its hideout.

Hunting is in the fear of not being able to return to the dying land.

Survival is conquering fear.

Hunting is in the fear of not being able to return to the dying land.

Sparing is the hunter's learning process about survival and fear. Fear is

the nature and order of the wild, and the word to describe it, in hunter's

language. Survival is the chosen word of his own mind's way.

Hunting is in the feeling of not wanting to return from the most violent

fall.

The last border is the feeling of being at the mercy of the vile land

through facing.

Every facing is the last border.

To spare is to know survival.

To challenge the titan of titans into a duel of eight is to conquer Hunting.

To spare is to understand the wild code, the natural order.

The caribou mean freedom.

To look at a bear is to look at your own fear.

Sparing is learned dominance.

Sparing a bear means you're conquering a more fearful fear.

Hunting is in understanding that life and the wild both resent movement

and themselves;

survival is conquering fear.

When you spare easy shots to bears,

you know it's the experience and fear you're trying to conquer in an

instinct.

The purest form of survival is to get to challenge something

overpowering.

Witnessing is what gives it its meaning.

When in the dying land, a hunter knows he's in a land where he knows

there's no return.

Hunting is the dying land.

Hunting is an attempt to conquer your own fear of death.

Hunting is in survival.

Hunters owe their lives to the wilderness for the feeling of kaira they can

carry throughout their lives.

Hunting is in witnessing a rut.

Hunting is not in the idea dying, unless one feels he owes his life to the

wilderness,

and feels this throughout the year as a vibe of Fall.

Hunting is about witnessing from afar.

A hunter wants to see a lion from his male's pack hunt an antelope with a

scope from afar.

The wild is in two parts: deep serenity and violent action.

Hunting is in two parts, serenity and extreme violence.

The animal kingdom is separate from the world of man.

The wild is cruel in its nature. It's hiding, getting eaten alive, escaping.

A deeprespecter lives off a violent, extremely dangerous land, but the

land feels serene most of the times. Approaching animals makes it

dangerous. It is difficult to get close to an animal.

Animals hide and avoid confrontations. A hunter lives in a dangerous zone

of downwind,

where animals stop escaping, and start either attacking or defending.

Normal visitors to the wild never encounter animals and are for this

reason in lesser danger.

Hunters live from the closeness of dangerous animals and are usually the

ones who get killed by animals. Hunters are typical bear victims.

Hunting is in two parts, deep serenity of trekking, watching from a

distance, witnessing,

coming back and in violence, stalking, getting eaten alive, rutting,

defending, attacking, claws, teeth

- fast, extremely violent confrontations.

Hunting is the serenity of the highlands versus the extremity of the bear.

A hunter's land is the farthest border.

You're a Hunter when you spare a shot.

When in the dying fall, a hunter feels like he is in a place of his own

chosen death.

The Metropol is the antithesis of the world.

You're a hunter when you feel you owe your life to the kaira.

To Mythos, not the skill of the fly fisherman, not to the art of the fly cast,

not to the battle won, but to the otherworldly strenght of the revered

Salmon, its life in the Sublime, its tragic return to loose its life and might

for offspring upstream, to the powerful stream that outruns it; to the king

of the Oceans, the Salmon, its mythic trek through the globe - the first

drink from your bottle of whiskey,

on the shores, belongs to the mythic Salmon.

Hunting is in the twenty stalks you have to do before you get a shot.

Hunting is in downwind.

Hunting is in the spare after the twenty stalks.

When hunting turns to deeprespecting, you're there, not wanting to die

anywhere else.

In the natural balance a hunter feels his existence as something that

defies life in general.

Hunting is about the fear of not being able to die where you live.

You're a hunter when you know you want to die in there.

The titan kneels at the height of its might, just before it starts to loose it.

The next year it would risk its position as the one who passed its genes

onto the next generation.

Younger bulls can only witness its rut and might,

and they can only try to mate with one of its cows on the outskirts of its

territory.

Antlers mark the titans position in this game.

Wolves hunt the weak, sick and the wounded.

It is the antlers in moose, that talk about their prestige and position in the

wild,

but it is the experience and survival of the titan you're trying to

overpower with your bow when you challenge one into a duel.

It is in the general hunter's spare, where a hunter's identity is.

When you spare easy shots to bears,

you know it's the experience and fear you're trying to conquer in an

instinct.

A bear is in its battles and scars.

You're a hunter when you know you'd rather die in the far border...

Every time you leave, you don't want to come back.

You always carry a bow with your rifle when you're on the last border.

It is a game of choosing whether to be close or dying.

Life is losing, it's tragic in nature. You can only win in the wilderness, in

the dying land, far border. Taking the life of a survivor, the titan or a bear

or the majestic caribou, winning it in its own land is the hunter's only

possible way not to lose in life. Only place of victory, the only real effort

of life, can be found in the dying fall, life's own canvas for dying, and in

the hunter's battle against the vile land and its survivors through the

hunter's code of deeprespecting. And you know you're a hunter when

you know what it means to observe pack structures through your rifle

scope and not think about taking the shot.

You're a hunter when you know what it means to want to witness...

The word "shaman" means "the one who sees in the dark".

Hunting is in watching a dangerous rut from too close with your

compound bow aimed ready for security.

"Kaira? The hope for an endless wild. The last border.

Fall. Life, losing. Loss. Learning. Coming back. Fall, really..."

Hunting is in maps, water sources, in hiding, in finding the animal before

it kills you.

Hunting is in the attempt of finding the natural balance.

You know you're a hunter when you know what it means to observe pack

structures through your rifle scope and not think about taking the shot...

Hunting's about sparing kills. Hunting is in the delay.

Hunting's not necessarily in taking an easy kill.

Hunting is deeprespecting.

Hunting is in following a buck for years.

It is in making sure that the harem has a follower of the right age.

Hunting is in the fall. Hunting is in the trek.

You're a hunter when you know that they got your from the wind and

disappeared.

Animals live their life in hiding. From one hideout to another. Cross an

open field...

You're a hunter when you feel you belong to the wild.

Every encounter with an animal in the wilderness is always lethal.

You have to learn to know and read the wild code with a bow before

you're a rifle hunter.

You have to stalk close. Come back empty handed an entire season

and not feel anything but the good vibes, traces of kaira left in you.

Hunting is essentially in the act of finding the animal.

Photography

Kuulumisesta erämaalle

Metsästys oli sitä, että kuului villiin erämaahan, sen kuolevaan

vuodenaikaan, jolla oli oma erityinen merkityksensä paitsi kuolemisena,

joka oli metsästäjän identiteetin koko kuva ja elämä, omaehtoisen

kuoleman valinta ja kohtaaminen, mutta myös villinä rauhana,

levottomuuden tunteen, metsästäjän mielen pysyvimmän kitkan,

katoamisena hetkeksi. Metsästäjä oli siis paitsi elämä, myös villi maa. Se

oli hänen mielensä vaellus, hänen metsästäjänvaistonsa kohtaaminen

kuolemassa.

Metsästäjä ei koskaan palaa lähdettyään ensikertaa erämaahan,

vaellettuaan siellä. Metsästäjän tunnistaa siitä, että hän ei osaa vastata,

mikäli häneltä kysytään, palaako hän erämaasta vai erämaahan, ja

nimenomaan niin, että paluu erämaahan on kysymyksenä mahdoton, sillä

hän tuntee aina kuuluneensa kuolevalle syksylle huolimatta siitä minkä

ikäisenä hän on aloittanut metsästyksen, huolimatta siitä, onko hänelle

valehdeltu hänen syntyneen erämaassa. Metsästys on tunne siitä, että on

velkaa koko elämänsä vuodenajalle, joka kuolee. Metsästäjä elää siis

kuolemasta, luonnollisesta sellaisesta.

Mitä syksy tarkoitti? Metsästäjä lähtee uolevaan maahan

aamuhämärässä, silloin kun hänen näkökykynsä antaa liikkumiselle

myöten, aamu-usvaan, silloin kun piiloutumisesta elävä riista on vielä

liikkeellä. Syksy on metsästäjän ulkoinen ja sisäinen maisema, se kuva,

mistä kuolemanvietti syntyi, itsensävaarantamisen halu, halu vaeltaa

vuoristossa, tuntureilla, kaukaisella rajalla, kadota koskemattomille

lohijoille, halu elää paitsi rauhasta, myös siitä villistä tunteesta, ettei

kokenut pelkoa kuoleman edessä. Maisema itse oli koskematon. Syksy.

Kuoleva hengitys. Elämä kuolemasta.

Maisemassa kärsinyt kelopuu, joka anoo synninpäästöä villin luonteelta.

Keneltä eloton kaira anelee vapautusta kärsimyksistä, villin luonnon

julmasta tasapainosta?

Tuntureilla höyhenpukua vaihtavat, puolittain jo lumenvalkoiset riekot

pilkkaavat lennollaan aavoilla vaeltavaa metsästäjää. Tuntea

riippumattomuutta. Tuntea tunturien valitus, syksyn viima.

Via dolorosa, kärsimysten tie, Jeesuksen viimeinen raskas matka

nöyryytettynä, ruoskittuna, tuomittuna. Metsästäjä kantaa taakkansa

elämässä samoin kuin hänen vapahtajansa, raskaana, kevyenä, vaikeasti

tai ylpeänä, mutta tekee sen, joutuu sen tekemään, joka tapauksessa

sellaisena kuin se eteen tulee. Metsästäjän mieli oli kuolema, oman

henkensä vaarantaminen karhujahdissa, villi vimma haastaa titaani, hirvi,

kiimaiseen taistoon, halu kadota ja vaeltaa riekkotuntureilla, todistaa

karhu, todistaa kiima, todistaa...

Villiin tuli palata. Mitään muuta ei ollut, mihin voisi lähteä ilman pelkoa

siitä, ettei palaisi koskaan. Janota kuolemaa villiltä maalta.

Teeri katkaisee siipensä noustessaan lentoon, paetessaan ääntä, hajua,

liikettä. Kettu aloittaa ateriansa linnun vielä eläessä. Villi kuolema,

raadollinen, vaistomainen.

Metsästys oli elämää, todistamista, seuraamista läheltä. Kiima,

dominanssi, aggressio, geenien jatkuminen, villien peurojen kamppailut

johtajuudesta, hirven taistelu susilaumaa vastaan. Todistaa karhu.

Metsästäjä hengitti kuolemaa jo katsoessaan karhua kiväärinoptiikkansa

läpi usean sadan metrin matkalta. Villin pelko oli läsnä, kunnioitettu ja

pelätty, vaarallinen metsästäjäntappaja.

Metsästys oli elämän ja erämaan opin kunnioittamista, eläimen käynnin

ymmärtämistä, sen mahdin, selviytymisen, piiloutumisen ja saalistuksen

opettelua, siitä elämistä. Metsästys oli vaellus, erämaan arvon opettelua,

kokonainen elämä, kairan hiljaista tulemista kuoleman maaksi ja osaksi

itseä yhä enemmän ja enemmän, ennen viimeistä rajaa.

Metsästys oli kuulumista kuolemaan, sen tunnon keräämistä itseensä.

Metsästys oli ajatus siitä, miksi kuoleminen oli tapahtumana vietti, ja

halu, tarve, miksi se tuntui hyvältä?

On etuoikeus kuulua kairalle, antaa sen kuolemantunnon viedä.

Metsästäjä on silti pelkkä vaeltaja. Hän katoaa vuodenaikaansa syvälle tai

lähelle, palaa samana päivänä, tai katoaa kauas, missä hän on villin

luonnon armoilla.

Mitä hän haluaa löytää? Mitä hän hakee?

Kuoleman janoaminen villiltä maalta. Se oli metsästäjän luonto,

metsästäjän mielen syksy, kuolemaan vaipuva villi, viimeisen

henkäyksensä ennen talvea ottava elämä, elämän hiipuva voima,

viimeinen taistelu suvunjatkamisesta ja dominanssista, hirven ja

valkohäntäpeuran kiima, vimmainen pakko voittaa, dominoida ja jatkaa

sukua. Metsästäjä ihaili tätä kuoleman voimaa syksyssä, hirven

kyseenalaistamatonta mahtia. Sen huippuvuotta, selviytymistä,

suvunjatkajan viimeistä syksyä odotellessa metsästäjä sai todistaa villin

elämää, ja kenties tavata saman sonnin useana vuonna ennen kuin sen

mahti oli täydellinen. Se paljastui sen sarvista, kuka oli metsän kuningas.

Sen, jonka selviytyminen ja suvunjatkaminen ja mahti näkyivät sen

mahtavista sarvista, sen metsästäjä haastoi kiimaiseen tappeluun.

Metsästys oli kairassa, ja syksyssä, elämän illassa, vaaroissa, karhun

julmassa vaistossa, mutta se oli aina ensisijaisesti etsimistä, paitsi

eläimien, niiden jäljittämistä, tarkkailua, niiden kiiman ja paon,

saalistuksen ja selviytymisen todistamista, myös vaellusta jonnekin kauas,

paitsi vaaralliseen kairaan, myös kitkattomaan mieleen. Kitkattomuus oli

metsästäjän vaellus, sisäinen kokemus joko erämaasta tai syksystä, miete

kuolevaisuudesta ja mahdollisesta haastamisesta, halusta kuulua villiin

maahan. Metsästys oli aina meditaatio syksystä, elämästä, ja sen rajasta,

jonka halusi antaa villille maalle, sellaisena kuin se sen halusi, mutta joka

oli kuitenkin aina paluuta takaisin kaupunkiin, elämään, sen

vastakkaiseen.

Jossain kaukana karhu väijyy peuran. Se vetäytyy hiljalleen talviunille.

Miehinen sisäinen levottomuus, tunne kuulumisesta erämaalle. Se oli

myös tuntureissa, jokilaaksoissa, vastakkaisena sille mitä metsästäjä oli

hakemassa luonnontasapainosta, mikä hänen valitsemansa villi oli. Pelkkä

pumppuhaulikko turvana koskemattomilla lohijoilla karhun

valtakunnassa. Vaiko asuttu virta? Vaarallinen villi oli tunne, joka veti

miehen veren syksyyn, kauas, haluun jäädä, pystyttää lapinkota.

Luonnontasapaino on ollut aina olemassa, se on evoluutiossa hioutunut

vaistojen tasapaino, sukupuuttojen ja geologian, aavikoitumisten ja

levinneisyyksien, lumipeitteiden yhteispeliä. Mitä oli olla metsästäjä

ikuisessa maassa, jota vain vuosimiljoonat muokkasivat? Metsästäjää ei

ollut ilman kaupunkia, tuota erikoista ihmisen älyn vaarallisinta tuotosta,

teräksen ja lasin imperiumia. Se oli lyöty vanhojen vuosisatojen päälle,

kaupunki, vanhojen vesireittien varrelle, siitä oli tullut hallitsematon

pääomien, raaka-aineiden, hyödykkeiden ja elämäntapojen ja

alakulttuurien labyrintti, jolla oli oma historiansa, oma mielettömyytensä.

Metsästäjä syntyi kuolemanvietistä, ja muuttui moderniksi kaupungin

myötä, siinä pisteessä, missä hänestä tuli kuoleva maa, ja hänen

kuolemastaan hänen elämänsä, vaistonsa, ja todellisin kokemuksensa,

olemassaoloa määrittävä tunne kuulumisesta elämälle ja kuolemalle,

vuodenajoista julmimmalle.

Kuulumisesta erämaahan. Metsästäjä ei vain kuulunut erämaahan, hän

tiesi haluavansa kuolla sinne, elää siitä tunnosta, että sai jäädä aina

lähtiessään, vaikka tiesi vielä palaavansa takaisin.

Metsästystä oli vain kuolemantunnossa. Jos sen tunsi. Eli siitä,

kaukaisesta. Metsästystä oli sen hakemisessa, jos tiesi mitä etsi.

Villipeura vaeltaa tuntureilla. Se on vapaa.

Jeesus käänsi maailmanhistorian ympäri, opetti maailmalle tuonpuoleisen

olemassaolon. Oli Jeesus sitten totta, tai ei, se oli metsästäjän tie, Jeesus,

kaira. Syksy oli tuonpuoleinen, kuolemanvaara, jano kadota, jäädä.

Metsästäjän kuolema ja elämä oli jäädä viimeiselle rajalle. Se oli silti

erilainen kuolema, erilainen elämä, elämä kuolemasta, elämä vaarasta,

elämä yhteenkuuluvuudentunteesta villiin maahan.

Kuoleva syksy ja sen maisema, koskemattomuus, herättää villin mielen

kohtaamaan kuolemaa, elämään villistä, luonnollisesta kuolemasta, ja

elämästä. Erämaa oli julma, välinpitämätön, armoton kaikille asukkailleen.

Evoluutio oli tehnyt erämaan maailmasta vihollisen omalle itselleen,

eläimet kamppailivat elämästä, kuolema oli tulla elävältä raadelluksi, oli

traagista kuolla vaelluksellaan jatkaakseen sukua synnyinjokensa

ylävirroilla, voimat ehtyneenä, vailla voittoa, niin kuin vaeltajien

kuninkaalle lohelle kävi, oli mieletöntä haastaa hirvi kiimaiseen

kamppailuun. Oli mieletöntä elää vaarallisesta maasta, joka hylki

metsästäjää, ja kaikkea elämää luonnostaan, piti sitä vihollisenaan, mutta

silti sinne kuului, eikä minnekään muualle.

Se oli metsästäjälle etuoikeus, saada elää viimeistä rajaa. Velka tuli siitä,

että koko elämä oli kuva syksystä, villi maa. Janota kuolemaa villiltä

maalta. Levätä.

Silti, sen rauha, hiljaisuus. Jossain korppien raakunta. Ne kutsuvat

haaskalle.

Villi kuolema.

Postmoderni Syväkunnioitusfilosofian sanakirja

- metsästyksestä ja perhokalastuksesta

Syväkunnioitus 1 panteistinen maailmankuva, metsästäjän mieli, joka

elää luonnontasapainosta 2 metsästäjän kunnioittava ja arvostava

suhtautuminen vaaralliseen elämäänsä villistä maasta 3 kunnioittava

suhtautuminen riistaeläimiin 4 luonnontasapaino 5 jatkuva

oppimisprosessi luonnontasapainoista eri mantereilla metsästysmailla

Velka 1 metsästäjän tunne siitä, että hän on velkaa koko elämänsä ja

kuolemansa villille maalle kairan tunnosta itsessään

Kaukainen raja 1 koskematon erämaa 2 tunne siitä, että on erämaan

armoilla, jossain kaukana

Viimeinen raja 1 kuolema 2 karhun hyökkäys 3 kuoleman tunto ja

kuoleman janoaminen metsästäjän identiteetin kulmakivenä villiltä

kuolevalta syksyltä 4 kuoleman kohtaaminen kaukaisella rajalla 5

metsästäjän elämäkaari, joka päättyy luonnolliseen kuolemaan kairaan,

jolle metsästäjä kuuluu, ja joka alkaa elämästä vaarallisessa maassa 6

jokainen kohtaaminen villissä maassa 7 kuolemanjälkeisen elämän tunto

kuolevassa maassa, velassa, metsästäjän elämänkaaren päätepiste,

kuoleman janoamisen tunto vaelluksessa ja kohtaamisessa kairassa

Yellowstone/Genesis 1 evoluution ja kristinuskon, maailmankuvien

yhteenliittymä 2 elämän syntyminen evoluutiossa ja alkulähteillä,

symbolisesti kansallispuiston kuumassa lähteessä 3 elämän alku,

metsästyskulttuurin luonnontasapainon konseptin kuva, koskematon

arkkityyppinen villi maa 4 elämän alku, metsästäjän kokemus vapaudesta

villiin maahan 5 Metropolin metaforinen antiteesi

Metsästäjän säästö 1 dominanssin ja selviytymisen logiikka, halu haastaa

selviytyvä ja dominoiva riistaeläin säästämällä nuoria ja esimerkiksi

naaraita 2 pyrkimys haastaa villissä sen vahvimpia yksilöitä

Transitiivinen säästö 1 metsästäjän kuolemantoive oman elämänsä

jälkipuolella, halu kuolla kairaan, mille on velkaa elämänsä 2 todellinen,

mutta tunnistamaton halu kuolla karhun tai hirven tappamana 3 halu

jäädä kuolevaan kairaan, tuonpuoleiseensa 4 tunne, että haluaa säästää

titaanin, hirven, syväkunnioituksensa kohteen toisinaan kairassaja antaa

sen selviytyä vielä vuoden

Jeesus 1 kristittyjen messias, ristintie, Via dolorosa metsästäjän elämän

kuvana, jota määrittelee kuoleman maa, syksy, ja tuonpuoleinen, kuoleva

kaira, loputon erämaa, kaipuu kadota, tulla villin eläimen tappamaksi, tai

eksyä, vaeltaa vapaana ilman, että palaa 2 kärsimysten tie elämän

kuvana, ristin paino elämän taakkana, metsästäjän elämän painopiste

kuolevana maana, jolle on velkaa koko elämänsä kairantunnosta 3

metsästäjän elämä, kuolemantoive, taakka sekä tuonpuoleinen, joka

löytyy vaarallisesta kairasta, ja suurriistasta

Mythos 1 perhokalastuksen ydin, vaelluskalojen lohen ja taimenen

myyttisen vaelluksen kunnioittaminen 2 lohen voiman ja traagisen

voiman ja vaelluksen kunnioittaminen 3 lohen ja meritaimenen

syönnösvaellus käsittämättömässä valtameressä, vrt. matemaattinen

subliimi 4 lohen vaelluksen ja voiman kunnioittaminen antamalla saaliin

juoda viskiä ensimmäisenä lohijoen rannoilla

Villi kuolema 1 luonnollinen kuolema 2 väkivaltainen, saalistettu,

armoton, moraaliton, välinpitämätön kuolema 3 villin luonnon olemus,

pelko, julma kuolema 4 villin kyvyttömyys kyseenalaistaa omaa

luontoaan, omaa mielettömyyttään, omaa olemassaoloaan, omaa

välinpitämättömyyttään kärsimyksiin ja pelkoon 5 metsästäjän

identiteetti on olla lähellä toisenlaista, luonnollista kuolemaa,

kiertokulkua, elämän tasapainoa, haaskansyöjiä, petoja, saalistettuja

Kuoleman tunto 1 metsästäjän identiteetti, kuoleman janoaminen

elämästä kuolevassa maassa

Luonnontasapaino 2 metsästäjän identiteetin kulmakivi, metsästettävän

luonnontasapainon oppimisprosessi ja sen ymmärrys

Pelko 1 villin olemus eläinten piiloutumis- ja saalistuskäyttäytymisenä 2

erämaan luonto elämää hylkivänä, välinpitämättömänä ja väkivaltaisena 3

evoluution luonne elämää hylkivänä väkivaltaisena, äärimmäisenä ja

vaarallisena luonnonkiertona 4 elämä itseäänhylkivänä villinä

luonnontasapainona 5 suurriistan voima, saalistus, selviytyminen,

haavoitetuksi tuleminen, elävältä syöminen, yritys selviytyä,

piiloutumalla, pakenemalla, saalistamalla 6 metsästäjän identiteetti

pelottomuutena 7 metsästäjän ymmärrys villin erämaan julmasta

luonteesta

Deep action 1 lintujahti, johon kuuluu olennaisesti syksyn kuoleva maa 2

luonnontasapainon kokemus, sen vaarallisuuden ymmärrys, karhun

läsnäolo 3 ymmärrys metsästyksen pohjimmaisesta luonteesta

vaelluksena erilaisissa erämaisissa ympäristöissä, kairassa,

tunturilakeuksilla tai vuoristoissa 4 ymmärrys metsästyksen toiminnasta

myös villin elämän todistamisena 5 ymmärrys metsästyksestä erityisesti

kairan ja syksyn erikoisena tuntona, jonka metsästäjä saa itseensä

kuuluessaan villiin maahan, oppiessaan sen tavan

Kuoleva syksy 1 metsästäjän koko identiteetti ja elämän kuva 2

metsästäjän melankolia 3 metsästäjän kuolemanvietti 4 metsästäjän

metsästysmaat 5 elämän pohjimmaisen traagisuuden kuva, kuoleva

metsästyskauden syksy, viimeinen elämän henkäys ennen kuolemaa,

talvea, pimeyttä ja olemassaolon päättymistä

Kohtaaminen 1 sisäinen tunne siitä, että on jossain kaukana 2 tunne siitä,

että kuuluu karhulle ja kairalle 3 oppimisprosessi vaistomaisesta

käyttäytymisestä ja villin julmasta luonnosta 4 puhtaimpana muotonaan

kuolemantanssi hirven, titaanin kanssa, tai suurriistan kiiman tai

saalistuksen, niiden mahdin, todistaminen omakätisesti 5 sisäinen tunne

siitä, että hengittää kuolemaa katsoessaan karhua kiikarintähtäimen läpi

jo 800 metristä 6 ymmärrys karhun äärimmäisyydestä, ymmärrys

suurriistan luonteista, niiden todistaminen, ja kunnioittaminen

ylivertaisina

Todistaminen 1 selviytymiskamppailujen, kiimataisteluiden, suurten

vaellusten, piiloutumisen, saalistuksen, elintapojen, pakenemisten,

voiman ja dominanssin todistaminen villissä 2 metsästyksen ohella

tapahtuva elämä villissä luonnossa

Kaira 1 koskematon erämaa 2 metsästyksen ydin, koskemattoman

rajattoman erämaan kaipuu, halu vaeltaa kauas, kokea kuoleva maa

itsessään vaarallisimmillaan

Kairan tunto 1 metsästäjän kokemus syksystä kuolevana maana, halusta

janota siltä kuolemaa ja vaeltaa siinä, kadota syksyyn 2 halu elää villistä

kuolevasta maasta vaarantaen oman henkensä maassa, joka hylkii kaikkea

elämää luonnostaan 3 metsästäjä on kairassa aina vaarassa, koska villi

hylkii elämää, kairan vaarallisuus, ja sen vastakohta, metsästäjän halu

elää vaarallisesta syksyn maasta, ovat metsästäjän elämä ja kuolema

Elämä/kuolema 1 metsästäjän elämänkaari, velka, tunne siitä, että

haluaa elää ja kuolla kairalle 2 elämänkaari, johon kuuluu vaarallinen

suurriista ja erämaa olennaisimpana osana 3 tunne, että on

syväkunnioittaja, erämaan opin saaja, kuoleman velkaa 4 halu kuolla

erämaahan, maahan johon ensisijaisesti kuuluu, eli syksyyn

Kultti 1 syväkunnioittajien väliset mentaliteetit tunnetuista karhusaarista,

lohi- ja taimenjoista, koskemattomista erämaista, tunturiylängöistä,

riistojen luonnollisista metsästysalueista ja levinneisyyksistä, niiden

tuntemus ja jakaminen keskusteluissa

Dominanssi ja selviytyminen 1 metsästyksen ydin, selviytymisen ja

dominanssin kunnioittaminen, ja niiden voittaminen sekä haastaminen

Veri 1 selviytymisen ja dominoivuuden ydin, vahvimpien veren ja geenien

jatkuvuus 2 luonnon väkivaltaisuuden tunnistaminen 3 veren periytyvyys

väkivaltaisesti 4 veri ja geenien jatkuvuus dominanssin ytimenä

Metropoli 1 luonnontasapainon ylle kehittynyt tieverkosto, maatalous,

kaupungistuminen, teknologia, teräs, raha, mikroprosessori, tietoverkot -

kaiken näkeminen luonteeltaan ihmisen kokeiluista kauaskantoisimpana

ja vaarallisimpana sen hallitsemattomuuden ja arvaamattomuuden

tähden 2 kaikki ihmisen tekemä ja vaikutuksenalainen 3

luonnontasapainon antiteesi

Kitka 1 perhokalastajan luonne, mahdottomuus kuulua yhteen paikkaan,

levottomuus identiteetissä, kuuluminen jonnekin kauas 2 kuuluminen

lohi- ja taimenjoille, luonnontasapainoon 3 metsästäjän ja

perhokalastajan pohjimmainen luonne levottomana identiteettinä, joka ei

todella kuulu minnekään 4 halu kuulua villiin maahan ja syksyyn 5 tunne

siitä, että kuuluu erämaahan, vaikka se hylkii elämää luonnostaan

Kaipuu 1 tunne yhteenkuuluvuudesta villiin kairaan 2 metsästäjän opin

jälkeinen tunne, kitka siitä, ettei todella kuulu muualle kuin

kaukaisimmalle erämaalle 3 halu haastaa vaarallinen suurriista, haastaa

villi virta ja sen karhut 4 kuuluminen tunteelle, että janoaa kuolemaa

A List of Authors of Personal Importance

Juan Manuel de Prada

Jan Guillou

Michael Ondaatje

J.M.G. LeClézio

Ayaan Hirsi Ali

Andreï Makine

M. Agejev

Ernest Hemingway

Asko Sahlberg

Jean-Paul Sartre

Hannu Raittila

Olli Kauhanen

Jeff Long

Wilbur Smith

"La tempestad" ("The Storm")

"Ondskan" ("Evil")

"Anil's Shadow"

"L'étoile errante" ("Wandering Star")

"Infidel"

"Le crime d'Olga Arbyelina" ("The Crime of Olga Arbyelina")

"A Novel with Cocaine"

"True at First Light"

"Tammilehto"

"Les mots" ("The Words")

"Canal grande"

"Usvayö nivalla"

"Year Zero"

"Birds of Prey"

The Lot / Belonging (Photo by PrivatMegleren)

The kaira (Photo by Tuntsa)

The Kaira (Photo by Pekka Koskinen)