after some time

It has been some time since I have posted about the Northern adventures I am having. Life is full and rich, and sometimes just being in it feels like the only thing one can do. 

Times now feel uncertain, with the swirling of change. One thing does feel certain, though: the place where I am now is full of magic. This is a powerful place where the land is abundant, and the community in which I make my path is diverse, vibrant. And, no matter what political persuasion it seems that folks here respect the environment that surrounds us, and have deep care for it. 

I had the opportunity to perform recently at Babefest III held in Fairbanks-- an event celebrating . The piece 'Wolf Dreams' is available for download on Bandcamp. As a cisgender female, this work is about the process of finding the complexity of one's own identity and power. Finding the support for this process is something very much on my mind as uncertainty and vitriol swirl. 

An audience member happened to film my performance.

Here are those 5 minute films (part 1, 2, 3).  

underneath the expected

Termination dust has caps the mountain peaks in the Chugach. And, the clouds warm with dusky alpenglow pink in the morning and the evening. The landscape transforms day to day, and the sense of awe at being in this most amazing place does not fade. Each moment opens up some other color or sensibility, nothing feels expected.

I performed a simple piece for harmonium, guitar, 35mm slides and mason jar the other day. Here is that soundwork. 

just enough

The seasons are already starting to turn. Almost overnight leaves changed from verdant green to bright, vibrant yellow. There is talk of termination dust soon capping the Chugach. In the meantime, I am acquiring more massive vegetables from the farmer's market, scaling heights that take my breath away, exploring (with) abandon, and preparing for things to come. I am practicing finding just enough in what unfolds.  




The light is profoundly radiant, and everything is bursting huge. 

Two dollar bunches of kale are big enough to use for weeks. Moose wander in the neighborhood tearing down the tender shoots of trees profuse with growth. 

Even still, each day holds about five minutes less daylight than the day before. So, in the midst of the abundance, one cannot help but feel the drive to store for a coming time that is darker, and scarcer. 

On Settling

I should say: the house shelters day-dreaming, the house protects the dreamer, the house allows one to dream in peace. - Gaston Bachelard, The Poetics of Space.


I have been creating space for myself in a new place.

This new place is wildly, and intoxicatingly expansive.

And the most ordinary moments-- the commute to work, the changing of day into night, turns in the weather-- feel extraordinary. I have been trying to hold onto those ephemeral and exquisite flashes of the extra-ordinary, to capture and bundle them in words, and thread, and sounds. There is something to this practice of gathering and keeping. Even science seems to agree that pleasure comes from the remarkable but ordinary. And so the collection of these fleeting glimpses grows. Bundles accrete. And, as I arrange all these captured moments home space emerges. And dreaming, dreaming opens wild.

some images by SHM, some by DBP

journeying part one: america

A drive from Rhode Island to Alaska begins with journeying across America through vastness, natural wonder, and roadside attractions.

Listen to a reflection on the first several thousand miles of my drive.