Steve Skafte

@SkafteSteve

Writer, poet, photographer, musician, and filmmaker from rural Canada. Anything heartwaking is everything that's worth it. Adventure is the cure for boredom.

Bridgetown, Nova Scotia
facebook.com/berserkerpoetr…
Joined June 2018
298 Photos and videos Photos and videos

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  1. 17 hours ago

    SLEEPY SEGREGATION Inglewood is a sleepy remnant of segregation, hanging around on the outskirts of Bridgetown. They had their own church and school, kept separate from the white folks in town, just... Read the full post here:

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  2. 17 hours ago

    THIN AND DESPERATE The comfort of crackling fire is primal, it has to be. These wet, damp days are damned by the autumn, and bring my desperation to the surface. The life of a working artist is thin and... Read the full post here:

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  3. Nov 20

    GATHERING IN HALOS The forest is dry this evening, all the moisture locked up in ice and gathering over water. Sabean's Brook freezes from rocktip to rocktip, gathering in halos before bridging the gaps... Read the full post here:

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  4. Nov 20

    Steve Skafte - Bottom of the Night: via

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  5. Nov 19

    BLUE IS A FIGHTER I know a man named Armón Lewis, who fished from this wharf for fifty years. He went to sea in much smaller ships than now, pulling traps by hand and getting shivered to the bone... Read the full post here:

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  6. Nov 19

    THE HOLLOW HISS Strange dreams, my friends, and strange memories in the making. These dark homes know how to live alone, casting darkness in the sighing shade. I might mistake the swish of swaying... Read the full post here:

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  7. Nov 18

    KEEPING YOU UP SO LATE Climbing a tree is the best way I know to make a bad day a better one. I don't go high, just hold on and hang tight. It's a fascinating feeling, waiting for your muscles to burn... Read the full post here:

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  8. Nov 18

    STRANGE DREAMS I can't speak for your strange dreams, but I've got my own, and they're vibrant as ever. I was promised hope and an open heart, and I got it, then lost it, then stumbled over it by... Read the full post here:

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  9. Nov 17

    THESE ARE EARLY DAYS Maybe I'm waiting to be blown away. The old intensity (you know the one) that you feel when you're young – it gets anxious over time. You grow just like always, then start to get... Read the full post here:

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  10. Nov 17

    THE UGLY BEAUTY I saw the mill, but it didn't see me, blinded by years of being forgotten. Now it's well on November, all the leaves fallen but the grasses still standing tall. This is the moment that... Read the full post here:

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  11. Nov 16

    STRANGE MUSEUM You can drive it away today, if it doesn't drive you away first. You could walk around and kick the tires, but they've long since fallen off. Every time I find a rotting relic in the... Read the full post here:

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  12. Nov 16

    THE THIRD HOUSE I finally made my pilgrimage to the mythical third hippie house today. I'd heard rumblings of it for months, a forgotten connection to the past, just down the road from its far more... Read the full post here:

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  13. Nov 16

    My discovery of abandoned photos at the BRITEX factory in 2008 were just featured on CBC Radio's Information Morning! The full album is on my Facebook page.

    Photos from the 1960s-90s were discovered by photographer Steve Skafte at the abandoned elastic factory in . They collected dust for a decade but now there are plans to turn them into an exhibit at a local museum
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  14. Nov 15

    THE FINAL ACHE I've been visiting this place for nigh on a decade, watching every inch of damage from winter weather and ocean gales. Last week's windstorms finally brought her down, snapped the ridge... Read the full post here:

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  15. Nov 15

    BOTTOM OF THE NIGHT top of the morning to you good day from the bottom of the night if I was meant to be living on the floor of the ocean I'd be able to make my own light phosphorescent in the darkness... Read the full poem here:

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  16. Nov 14

    THE LOWEST TIDES We've technically got the highest tides in the world, but I always say the lowest. That's how you really know the difference, when the barnacles and weeds stretch off in the distance... Read the full post here:

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  17. Nov 14

    SMALL TOWN FEVER The human world is made of mostly small towns, and in those towns, there's mostly silence. I don't come for community, I want an escape, to a place with not much happening. Bear River... Read the full post here:

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  18. Nov 13

    THE SLATE HILLS I make my way on the narrow footpath, up the steep slate hills that surround Bear River. They don't mine it like they used to, but my mind is still crowded with the hammer pounding of... Read the full post here:

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  19. Nov 13

    THE THUNDERING I can already hear the ice in my mind, all these rocky rapids overflowing and slowly turning solid. It will be just seconds before the West Branch of Bear River end her final descent to... Read the full post here:

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  20. Nov 12

    SHE SPEAKS FOR ME There's not much light left. I know the midday is safer and warmer, but twilight is where my reasons for living hide away. I've walked for sometimes hours before the sinking spark of... Read the full post here:

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