I was driven to this place in a spicy red hot convertible, with Fear at the wheel. I am ultimately an art-maker because of Fear. And Fear is my home-girl. I was born to compulsively creative parents. My mother danced by the tides of the moon, and ...
Kadusné.01: to praise the pussy. Move, bounce, flow. As I marinate in this Spring’s energetic overhaul, I’m focusing on reconnecting with the Divine Feminine and created a juicy playlist to accompany and fuel my exploration. ...
Mama kept her bedroom curtains open so that in the morning she would be woken by the sun. She would point the foot of her bed toward the east-facing widow when possible. She would drink her tea in the warmth of the sun rays, and plan her work schedule ...
I always wanted my photo taken on a paper moon. So when my bro-in-law Blue Haas and partner-in-crime, Chenni Hammon, thought we should do a Prohibition-themed fundraiser for the Pagosa Peak Open School, I demanded that a paper moon be made ...
Quest for yellow cedar bark in SE Alaska’s rainforest.
Lily and I were fortunate enough to visit the Burke Museum in Seattle, Washington in place of our mother, whom was awarded a research grant from the Bill Holm Center before her passing. We also offered to demonstrate weaving Ravenstail and Chilkat on two ...