Long Road Home

The last 4 years I’ve been looking for land to collaborate with. A stretch to know and be known by. Space to grow some things. Hopefully hard soil, so I can learn what softens it. Some place that sings a song the deep down place recognizes. I’m curious about what happens in the space between wind gusts, tree rings, starlings.

Thankfully, it’s been a long, swervy road. A school of nomadic belonging that’s taught me home is an inside job. Less a place than a practice.

I’m drawn to the West for reasons I can’t yet name. It feels native and wild at once. High and dry, silent, singing, and extreme. It’s been a long road home, but the Land of Enchantment feels inevitable.

I want to be part of reconciling. Healing the scars of colonial history as we weave the future. Repairing. Repar-ation. Forging a way of ancient-modern devotion. Humble awe. Reverent technological progress.

New Mexico. What a ridiculous, impossible, offensive, enchanting name. I bow to what you’ve been. To excavate complexity. Listen. Volunteer for your becoming. Mostly, gawk and awe at what the cloud are up to. Become less alien.