“I returned to my Holy Mountain, possessing knowledge from over a hundred hosts, but still knowing nothing about my origins. I had tired of wandering. The Holy Mountain was the only place on Earth I felt any tie to. For a decade I inhabited the monks who lived on its mountainsides. I led a tranquil enough life. I found companionship with an old woman who lived in a tea shack and believed I was a speaking tree. That was the last time I spoke with a human.

One writer in Buenos Aires even suggested a name for what I am: noncorpum, and noncorpa, if ever the day dawns when the singular becomes a plural.”

-David Mitchell

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the gesture of nature

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“We live in all we seek. The hidden shows up in too-plain sight. It lives captive on the face of the obvious - the people, events, and things of the day - to which we as sophisticated children have long since become oblivious. What a hideout: Holiness lies spread and borne over the surface of time and stuff like color.”

-Annie Dillard


“We are the earth’s organs and limbs; we are syllables God utters from his mouth.”

-Annie Dillard

,.- ` ~ ' -.,

It is an odd feeling creating something which you don't fully grasp, but know enough to understand the potential

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Searching for magic in the largest and smallest scales

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I wanted to be a detective when I was little.... tracing roots back... figuring out connections. secret messages, puzzles, systems, connections

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Points on a map… tracking the routes that time takes

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Like ‘desire paths’ forging their own way and finding connections organically

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A series of connections... stringing one moment to the next

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Invite and incorporate chance, mistakes, improvisation and imperfection as all part of a journey and integral to the whole and what comes next. One image leads to the next and to the next etc. Reflections of a scattered mind on a journey of imperfection

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Unearthing, not creating