Mom and Dad, sometime before 1985

My father, the sky, cold and distant
My mother, a field, her grass so tender and sharp I would cut myself on her.

She is King of the Wood. 2024

failed film scan, 2025

Winter is in full bloom. I'm frustrated with learning to scan my own film; I'm doing something wrong. I have burnout from trying to learn so much so quickly, but I'm addicted and I can't stop. December, I met with my shadow and called the repressed versions of myself to come forth. Let's turn this straw into gold. 

Bane, 2024

Healing salve; Calendula, Yarrow, + Plantain in oil, 2024

I told my mother that she's a kitchen witch. She's always concocting salves, playing with botanical properties to see what she can make. "You mean apothecary", she protested. Being called a witch didn't taste right on her Jesus worshipping tongue. What she doesn't realize is that's all a witch ever was. 

The Holly king peaks. Thus begins the rise of the Sun. Happy Birthday my boy. 

Creek coulee, 2024

"Welcome Winter", I whispered into the fall wind as it dawned on me that winter is Nature's monochrome work. This is the first time in my life that I haven't dreaded the cold.

2023

Until Death

Me and the Gods, 2024

I still worship the Old Gods: Pine, Birch, Hazel, Oak, Aspen, Alder, Ivy, Hawthorn, Yew, Rush, Rowan, Blackberry, Ash, Gorse, Apple, Elder, Holly, Heather, Blackthorn, and Willow.

Beaux, 2024

grain bin pigeons, 2024

I went to the city and felt like a scared wild animal. I think I might start growing fur.

River babies.

He's got iron and dirt in his viens.

Week long camping trip, the talking trees creek, 2024

Home, 2024

When I was 15 we lived in a shack without running water 45min from Quesnel BC. There was a spot by the river along the way with a fresh water spring we would stop to fill reused gallon milk jugs for drinking water. My mother parked the truck on the side of the highway and disappeared into the hillside trees, re-emerging with jugs filled to the brim. It was the best water I ever tasted. I remember knowing that the further we got from town, the cleaner the land was. We used to drink straight from the earth, not 100 years ago, but less than 25. I don't know if that spring is still there.

He says he loves swearing and can't wait to be older so he can do it whenever he wants. I told him I don't care if he swears at home as long as it's used for poetic emphasis and not just to be crude. I'm learning that strong willed people need you to be adaptable. Coming down hard only flares up their beautiful combative spirit and created turbulence. Autonomy is a core value. 
May you always be wild and challenge societal norms. A lot of them are just dumb grown up games anyway.

Mammary, the dugout 2024

Bane, backseat window ritual on 40-2, 2024

Personal reference image.

Mom + uncle Luke, 1970s

We made corn husk dolls to give to the Earth, a yearly tradition. I waited too long and the husks were dry, flaking all over the floor as we formed them. September waits for no one. We buried them in the field and thanked the soil for our sustenance and I worried about the slippery slope of time. I only have a few more years left to normalize for them what I'm only just learning myself. Raised in the wild I should already know, but I spent that time dissociated, my thoughts consumed with escape. I was an ungrateful fool back then. Sometimes I want to dig myself a hole in the field and grow myself anew. Maybe this time the roots will

corn husk dolls, 2024

take. Maybe this time I'll remember I'm kin with the Dirt. If I could drink the soil I would; to taste the songs of the earth my ears can't hear but my body can't forget. Dirt religion is in my bones. 
Remember, remember, so I can teach them before it's too late.

We made corn husk dolls to give to the Earth, a yearly tradition. I waited too long and the husks were dry, flaking all over the floor as we formed them. September waits for no one. We buried them in the field and thanked the soil for our sustenance and I worried about the slippery slope of time. I only have a few more years left to normalize for them what I'm only just learning myself. Raised in the wild I should already know, but I spent that time dissociated, my thoughts consumed with escape. I was an ungrateful fool back then. Sometimes I want to dig myself a hole in the field and grow myself anew. Maybe this time the roots will take. Maybe this time I'll remember I'm kin with the Dirt. If I could drink the soil I would; to taste the songs of the earth my ears can't hear but my body can't forget. Dirt religion is in my bones. 
Remember, remember, so I can teach them before it's too late.