One person who would understand is Doug. Doug lives an isolated life in San Jose Bay, BC, Canada.
The Dutch photographer Karianne Bueno has begun an intensive story about Doug and his choice to live off the grid. Knowing Karianne, Doug's Cabin it will surely be a book someday, and probably a quite nice one. To help finance the trips she is offering special edition prints for a great price.
Here are just 2 of the images, go here to see the others.
photos, Karianne Bueno
It's been quite a while now since we met,
I hope you remember.
When we arrived at your place in the forest
we had just started our longest trip ever.
The land we travelled through was spectacular,
but your home at San Jo never left my thoughts.
A drowsy bear crossed the long gravel road.
The dripping woods, the soft green mossy grass,
the tree branches blocking the way.
The campground seemed deserted. We parked
the car in an overgrown site with rotten plastic
chairs. I walked around, puzzled. There were
the weather worn remains of a large, unfinished
building. A broken car, a shed, and a cabin with
smoke coming out of the chimney. Dark trees crept
in on the open space - wall-like, suffocating.
From the steps that led up to the door of your
cabin I saw the interior reflecting the haunted outside:
an unmade bed in the corner, a wood stove, faded
postcards on the beams that supported a sooty ceiling.
The small desk at the dirty window was covered with
papers and pictures of cougars and bears.
Then you stood behind me, your hands black with
dirt, smiling. You seemed happy to have guests so
late in the season. You showed us the dark lake that
adjoined the campground, and a short cut along a
muddy path to the beach, where we found sand
dollars in the surf. How have you been? Did you
get a chance to work on the hostel again? Or have
you really given up that dream? Did you get through
the winters all right?
When we left in the morning you made me promise to
send you a postcard. I bought one as soon as we
got home. It was only then that I found out I had
lost your address. The card got lost in a drawer,
but I never forgot about you or San Jo. Now it's
time to track you down. But no matter what I try,
your campground seems to have disappeared from
the map. I'm sending this letter, along with the card
and some pictures to the Holberg post office. I sure
hope to find you this way. Because the forest calls.
I long to breathe the damp air and learn to live in the wild.
Doug answered two weeks later by email. The few sentences
he wrote were enough for me to decide to travel to San
Josef Bay again and start a new photo project, entitled
Doug's Cabin for now. What makes someone turn away
from society like that? How does anyone survive in the
wilderness? I have always longed to escape, but would
I actually be able to do it?
You can buy the photographs below this email until the day
I leave: May 28, 2013. They were taken between 2008 and
2010 in the US and Canada, some on Doug's campground.
I selected the photographs as a sequence that recalls the
atmosphere of Doug's surroundings. The purchase of one
or more prints will sponsor the project.
The first results will be shown at the Unseen Photo Fair in
Amsterdam in September this year. After a possible follow-up
trip in May 2014 I will hold a large exhibition at LhGWR in
The Hague, The Netherlands.
The inkjetprints, on Hahnemühle fine art paper, are 20x25 cm,
with a small white border. They cost €60 each, this is exluding
6% tax and shipping costs. If you are interested,
I hope you are willing to help me realize Doug's Cabin in this way.