echo memory :: june 19, 2018 : i am sitting here, in the mountains and i can smell the alfalfa near me. it is not growing. it is tied up, in a bundle. this bundle is for my use. it is for the practice of archery. i have yet to transport it to the forest for this purpose. the smell of it is nice. it lingers. it reminds me of fall, which reminds me of my childhood, which reminds me of my birthday. as i was transporting it, it shed many pieces of itself and they ended up collecting along the edge where the wall meets my deck. i liked this. i hope it liked it. i kept them there. for the lingering scent, but also for the sight, of something beautiful. of a chaotic, kind of beauty that i feel happens the most in the fall, when things are letting go and finding themselves strewn about everywhere, in a surrender to death, to change, to transition, to life. the rain is trickling, the rhythms of it can be heard against the trees and the rooftop. playing with each other. the birds ec
this blog is a place for feelings, it is a place for critical thought, for wonder wandering through curiosity and uncertainty. for dreams, for tracking, for documenting my life as a queer, white, ancestrally slavic, welsh, and english, genderfluid, pagan, highly sensitive, psychic, hearing, heartfelt, tender, human being. based in turtle island. currently occupying duwamish territory.