Iโve been collecting words like breadcrumbs for thousands of miles. Wet, juicy words from mossy misty woods. Bone-dry, dusty words from the desert. Grief-filled, resistant words from ragged places. I try to sit long enough to catch whispers on the wind.
Just a wandering nomad mama noticing the world.
What it means to be a woman in the world making slow, chewy art
Whatever's on my mind that makes it to the page. Usually, Nature is involved. ๐ฟ
Perspectives of an animist herbalist, poet, and priest on things new and old, human and wild