.t h i r t y f o u r.

I always love to write something as I begin another orbit around the sun. I turned 34 on Tuesday this, whoa! This year held so much movement for me I wanted to journey the year again to remember it all, here it is.

My 33rd year was a wild ride of adventure - travel - big questions - dead end roads - unplanned journeys and new layers of awareness!!

IDAHO

I started my year last April celebrating my birthday in the mountain town of Ketchum, Idaho nestled at the foot of the Sawtooth Mountains. I lived in Ketchum for 9 months working at a Community Health Educator with Planned Parenthood. Most of my time was spent teaching puberty and sexuality education to middle and high school students at both the public and private schools. The experience was challenging and isolating but also allowed a flexibility to explore the amazing nature around me. The Wood River Valley is one of the most beautiful places I have ever lived. The foothills are blanketed with sagebrush and having grown up in the high desert of Central Washington I always feel at home where sagebrush grows. The position lost most of its funding and with fall approaching I decided to head back east for holiday art shows.

EAST TO WEST

It took 21 days for me to drive from Idaho to Massachusetts, camping 18 of those days and staying with friend on the other days. I remembered how the road is my happy place. Setting up my campsite and packing it up every morning was such a innate rhythm for me. I met a kindred spirit at Craters of the Moon, went fly fishing on the Teton River, slept in a yurt, slept in a tipi, fell in love with the mud pots at Yellowstone National Park, took slow walks along the madison river at dusk, moon bathed in a tipi next to the Devil’s tower, got lost in the cornfields of Nebraska, saw Georgia O’Keeffe art in Iowa, Slept next to the Mississippi, fell in love the with fingerlakes and Ithaca, Slept by a tiny lake in the Catskills and only had rain as I was driving into Boston. It was the most reinvigorating 21 days!

NEW ENGLAND

Coming back to New England was such a reflection to realize how much Idaho had changed me in just 9 months. I ached for the vast openlands and silence. I had a busy holiday season and reconnected with friends. I also continued to teach metalsmithing workshops. I love teaching these workshops and learned so much from teaching adult learners.

HOME

In January after 5 day delay due to a Nor’easter I arrived in Washington for a delayed holiday time with family. I spent my days hiking and soaking up the colors of Central Washington. I realize how the land feels like home to me. I created a personal residency during my time there, a quilt project. I took walks everyday, took a picture, translated it into a very simple design and sewed a patch. It was such a great project to get back in the rhythm of see - design - create.

MAINE

I came back to the East, to Maine this time to a small town 1 hr north of Boston. Due to my beloved turbo engine subaru exploding and being without a car for weeks I translated my quilt project into a brooch project. Now translating the designs from fabric to metal. I have 12 brooches made. I am so excited and proud of this project. There is no motive in this project except just to make - to tell a story of where I come from - to explore how to translate landscapes. I also was able to take a pie workshop from one of my favorite bakers and it inspired me explore baking more. So I’ve been baking a few pies every week learning and improving recipes.

NORTH CAROLINA

This all leads to the end of 33 and beginning of 34. I’ve moved to the south, Western North Carolina nestled next to the Great Smoky Mountains. It’s a special place for me with my Mom’s family being from the Tennessee side of the Smoky Mountains. I always feel connected to my Nana there, even after living most of her life in Washington Tennessee and those mountains were always home for her. I’m excited to explore the mountains more and to start a massage program in the fall. With over 10 years working in health I’m excited to connect bodywork to the experiences and knowledge I have gather my journey so far.

So much to unfold and learn this 34th year. I hope you are healthy and learning!

.moonrise.

I live in a tiny studio above a garage, it's very typical in this small tourist town for families to make extra income and a source of "affordable" housing in a town with very limited options. It's a quaint space that seems like a luxury in some ways, having spent the past several years living in old houses full of roommates in the city. The bedroom nook has a window facing southeast, there's a tall line of evergreen between the neighboring open lot and adjacent house. Tomorrow is a full moon and I like to leave my window shade open on full moon nights so I can watch the moonrise from my bed. I noticed tonight the thickness of the tree offering only small flickers of golden light through the branches with alternating moments of pure darkness. It's strange to see the barrier of light that they offer - moments of bold light and of deep darkness as the moon slowly rises. I've fallen in love with the rhythms of land and place, I've missed that.

.open lands + light.

I've been staying in a log cabin the past 10 days, it's east off the highway a good ten minutes if you drive 50 mph on the 35 mph roads. There's no cell phone service out here just an open valley of land and incredible views of the snow capped mountains in the distance. It's beautiful out here, no street lights to pollute the night sky, just the soundtrack of the flooded river rushing through the cottonwoods and the chorus of birds chirping. I've savored the early mornings watching the sun rise and stretch over the mountains in the east and slowly make its way to the west throughout the day with the sun rays and shadows dancing thru the cabin until once again the pitch black settles in for the night. Yesterday a storm was coming through and the land illuminated a bright blue-grey color and I realize how in the open land I am able to see and feel the many variations of the land.  Unlike the city where the buildings and light overpower and distract us from experiencing the subtleties of a place. The overexposed washed out morning light that makes the mountains melt into a mix of colors that slowly clarify into the mid-morning shadows of the hillside that start to illuminate the individual trees and the colors separated to various shades of greens and some burnt orange from last summers fire. The shadows drape over the hillside bringing depth to the curves and as the sun starts dropping down behind, sinking into the west a muted earth tone come over the trees, the definition of the land is gone, just a bold emerald presence until the mellow shadows of green fade to black and we wait to see what tomorrow will look like, all over again but different, always different.

.what now.

I am forever curious. It's something that I pride myself on - it's something that allows me to take brave jumps into the unknown over and over again. It's also something that keeps me painfully aware of this internal compass, that despite my best attempts to ignore or drag my heels into the ground it wakes me up in the middle of the night and doesn't let me go back to sleep. I can list off every single one of these instances - they are branded in my memory maybe as reminders that against my initial reactions things will work out - this is just the process. 

I remember 5 years ago I was living in a restored barn in a small town north of Seattle working as a Health Educator at a Community Health Clinic. I had just returned a little over a year from serving in the Peace Corps for two years in Ecuador and I started to feel that internal compass. My days were running into each other - my energy was sagging - the question, what now. I had been contemplating whether or not to go to midwifery school and had also applied to water sanitation program with Peace Corps Response in El Salvador. The midwifery school invited me to come do a 24hr shift at the birth center and 2 two weeks later Peace Corps called me to say that the water sanitation program didn't exist anymore but they thought I would be the perfect candidate for a new program in Malawi. Wait, what? Where? I didn't even know where Malawi was, I am a traveler but really I was a Latin American traveler. All my experiences of to that point had been to Latin America. That is where I travel - that is where I want to travel - I speak Spanish. The birth center was in El Paso, Texas just a mile from the border. I know Mexico. I love Mexico. I've been working with moms and babies forever - it's what I do. It seemed like the perfect fit - a longtime goal/dream. I went to the birth center for a 24hr shift. It was small and chaotic - it was Mexico. I loved it. A returned home and within a few weeks a receieve a letter of acceptance to the midwifery program and an offer from Peace Corps to go to Malawi for 9 months. I didn't know what to do. The midwifery program seems like the perfect fit but there was something about Malawi that I just couldn't say no to. I ran all the possible what ifs over and over in my head, made pro and con lists for both and then called my mom. She asked why I wouldn't go to Malawi and I said, "Because I'm scared" and she said, "then you already have your answer." That curiosity - that internal compass sometimes starts out looking/feeling like fear and when I walk thru it I find the most beautiful things. I went Malawi. It broke my heart and healed it. It made me feel rooted and alive in ways I'd never experienced before. 

Curiousity is knocking at my door, again. I've been living in Boston for the past almost 3 years. That is the longest time I have spent in any one place since I graduated college (10 years ago!). It has been such an adventure living on the east coast - it's a different world from the west coast in so many ways. I took risks - I learned a new speed of life - I became bolder from the city - I explored New England - I met new people. It was feeling comfortable but I started to feel that internal compass. I started to open doors to see what would come and out of nowhere an opporunity started to unfold from small town, Sun Valley, Idaho in the Sawtooth Mountains. A chance to work in reproductive rights. A chance to feel like I’m investing in what I believe during a time that demands us all to speak up. So I’m moving west again. I’m sad to leave that city I have grown to know and the little community I was apart of - it seems like with all things being questioned and challenged what we really need is community and love and support but I made the decision to live a life that demands risks - that expands and new places seem to be the way that my life unfolds. It seems we don’t always process our learning until we leave and I feel I am just starting to see all the love and support that Boston gave me, a tough love but a love nonetheless. A firmness that allowed me to grow taller. A pace that helped to begin to leave perfection aside for the opportunity to complete the task. I’m grateful for all the teachers I met in Boston. My heart feels sad in a lot of ways but also excited to see what unfolds in a small town in the mountains. 

.idaho.

going through pictures from the road trip. this is the third state visited and the first state we photographed, idaho. 

a beautiful dry arid landscape.