Alright – so today we’ve got the honor of introducing you to Seneca Kristjonsdottir. We think you’ll enjoy our conversation, we’ve shared it below.
Seneca, appreciate you joining us today. It’s always helpful to hear about times when someone’s had to take a risk – how did they think through the decision, why did they take the risk, and what ended up happening. We’d love to hear about a risk you’ve taken.
I don’t think it felt like it at the time, but starting The Thlaweg has brought many risks into my life. When it started, there were no strings attached, we could do whatever we wanted, take as much time as we wanted – it was all dreams and experiments. Every step was more like a stumble to get the publication off the ground, and we appreciated all of the lessons learned. We spent a lot of time laughing at our mistakes and looking forward to all that could be.
Without really trying, we soon realized that the collaborative nature of the project required the use of many fiscal and online tools that we never intended to engaged with.
A few years have gone by and now we have a bank account, a fiscal sponsor, a submittable subscription, folks excited and waiting for the next issue, over 100 submissions for each issue to review, a website, a shop on Instagram – my god! So many things to stay accountable too! Our small creative zine vision easily grew into something influenced by our capitalistic world. Balancing it all, making it all happen, its risky business baybee.
Seneca, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?
The Thalweg features 12-15 writers and artists in each printed issue, most of which share a small collection of their work. We feature poets, story tellers, photographers, painters, illustrators, and other artists who live, work, or reflect on wild landscapes. The qualities of Wilderness in mainstream media have been defined by urban Idealism that separates humanity from wild landscapes- under the impression that “man can only mar it,” (note in subtitles that Rosevelt said this) or that wilderness is best preserved by building borders “where man himself is a visitor who does not remain.” (note in subtitles: *wilderness act 1964) Without undermining the importance of land conservation in today’s world, this concept of wilderness tends to negate the ecological relationships humans have shared with their landscapes that promote resilience through reciprocity, and the power of communities built on place-based knowledge.
We believe the people “out there” (point out there) have so much to teach us, show us, and help us feel. These folks are full of their own kind of poetry and beauty that you don’t want to miss!
So we put together The Thalweg as a platform for their stories
As one of the founding editors, I have always loved wild places and creative work. I like to take photos on my outdated film cameras, write sappy poetry, read fantasy books, and have worked as a backcountry river guide for the past 13 years. Working with the folks who contribute to The Thalweg continuously inspires me and brings me light in the complex world we call home.
How about pivoting – can you share the story of a time you’ve had to pivot?
In college I studied landscape ecology and ideology with a focus on bee husbandry (punk ass independent study program at a wonderful hippy college in Vermont). I spent years learning the niche skill of raising queen bees, and finally got “the job” raising bees at WSU for a very cool agricultural extension genetic diversity program. I was raising virgin queens to be artificially inseminated with semen that had been collected and cryogenically frozen in the Caucasus Mountains…. I had made it to the bottom of the rabbit hole, I had arrived, as they say. And yet, something wasn’t sitting right. I missed my job working as a river guide – the job where our guests often asked what we wanted to be when we grew up, the job that kept me a float through school, but offered no long term stability. I felt stifled by the 9-5 and the bureaucracy of the university. I felt like I didn’t have room to be my best self, and realized what a privilege it had been to live this way for so long up to that point. So I quit. quit raising queens, quit my “real” job, to walk back into a void of uncertainty without a destination. There were a lot of tears and lots of fear, giving up a passion I had worked hard to build. In the end a winding road lead me to live the life I find myself in now. I have room to pursue my own creative process, I spend most of my time outdoors, I never work 9-5. My back hurts from manual labor jobs, I still pay rent instead of owning a home at age 34, and I struggle to save for retirement – but I am happy, and full, and so grateful for it all.
For you, what’s the most rewarding aspect of being a creative?
For me, when I am able to access the creative part of myself it feels like magic. Like some kind of power moving though me that I get to revel in. It can be meditative and absorbing. I find it to be very important to my mental health in times of love, sorrow, or celebration.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.thethalweg.com
- Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/the_thalweg/ @the_thalweg