#conneciton

The secret that I had for about a month, and on the very rare occasions when I accompany my parents to their church. I worked in the church’s regional office as an admin assistant and I was holding back a lot of things. I have dear friends who are queer and trans and I don’t think that they are a sinner, they are just people. There is the sticky concern about my beliefs in which I have…

Connectedness: New anthology of art, poetry and essays offers perspectives on our connection to nature — Life & Soul Magazine

A new anthology, Connectedness – An Incomplete Encyclopedia of the Anthropocene, is offering perspectives on what binds us together and how we can strengthen our connection to nature. The book – which features contributions from young climate activist Greta Thunberg and Icelandic singer Björk – is a frame of reference and an incomplete encyclopedia, which […]

Connectedness: New anthology of art,…

Leader Shift | The FRONT

Let’s talk about the leader shift that must take place in business so that everyone can continue to enjoy success.

This is relevant to both leaders that are already running a business, and also those that are about to be taking on leadership responsibilities.

Social media, technology, peoples mind about social media, and…

Dear Jodie,

How old were you when you started checking off the days of the year with monster stickers? Where did you get your lunar calendar and how much do you know about mushrooms or existing as a strange loop?

I am just a strange loop sipping courage in your kitchen and watching leaf-long sail boats. They are built from the harmony of your windows, your plants, and your wind chimes. These shadow boats float to the homes of some creatures I forgot were hiding in my soul.

I remember now.

Jodie, I am fully forested. I am stocked with creatures that live in my hollow logs and bent branches. I am composed of burrowing shy monsters. And somehow, Jodie, the sailboats of your kitchen melody lilt to them. They coax them sweetly out. Away from their pots on the stove. Away from their crocheted blankets and their obsessions with comparison.

What I’m saying, Jodie, is that I have been through all of your cabinets and drawers.

Do you know Anubis personally or are you just a big fan? I only ask because you’ve got it his autograph and also because I’ve been wondering whether my heart’s any lighter than a feather. Do you think he’d feed either of us to a crocodile monster?

Oh, Jodie, you’re the first person I’ve known-- not known-- met-- not met-- been vaguely aware of through material possessions who’s made me think it might be nice to go to sleep alone.

Jodie, I am in love. My love is a small corner of all and none like both of us and everyone else. My love has tree ring eyes and a big blue scarf. Sometimes my love reminds me of all those woodland creatures hiding in soul roots. Other times he is a dance on the rocky shore of sea, pink spirits spinning around him. Sometimes my love is green. Always my love is your refrigerator saying “Be too busy having fun to go looking for joy.”

Everything in your apartment is so intentional and specific. Everything is made so you can make art. Everything is yours even if it came from someone else.

Jodie, how old are you? You are a fibers and performance artist. You live from festival to festival. You have two kinds of mood lighting around your bed. A speaker set up where the wires aren’t tangled. And fifteen houseplants with no brown leaves. Jodie, how old do I have to be?