Dispatches to friends

A vertical colour photograph of me looking at the sea. The sea is blue and a little frothy. The beach is all grey rounded pebbles. I am in the middle, mustard jeans rolled up to my knees. They are damp at the bottom edge. I have a blue and green and yellow checked shirt. My hands are behind my back holding a wooden stick. I have short dark cropped hair.

I am a writer, an image maker, a sound artist, a microadventurer, a pootlist. Not necessarily in that order, not necessarily all of the time.

I seek a quiet life, one rich in time spent living and connecting to the more-than-human and human world. This is not an easy task when I spend most of my days in an insulated office of metal and glass. I get caught up in the loop of forgetting and remembering what it is to be a part of earth. Still, I try to break that loop so I may remember more often than forget. I carry a camera and notebook at all times. They are tokens, amulets, ritualistic tools that help me slow the frenzy of the too-human-world. I pause for a moment and find a balance.

In that moment of pause, I bear witness and enter into an act of reciprocity with the world. I step out of my worries, quieten my mind, and let my body experience the world. In return, I attempt to capture those daily moments of wonder and stillness. Sometimes I share the results, sometimes I don't.

These days, I'm more of a couch surfer courtesy of long covid. The above is still true but is changing, evolving as I discover a life indoors. I am now developing an obsession with spinning, crochet, embroidery, and weaving. I am sure more fibre arts exploration will happen eventually.

My pronouns are she/they. Most of my work is shared under CC BY-NC-SA.