to nestle into and fit

Self-portraits and writing from my trip across the country: Danville, CA to Chatham, NY in a 1996 Ford Ranger.

Shot on 35mm color film

questions to ask how much effort, skill, bravery do you have for keeping yourself healthy?

in a pool of the river, i give thanks to the water for sustaining me. i give thanks for the trees for being my older brothers and surrounding me. i give thanks for the sky for enclosing all that i see in the world. i give thanks for the fish for preceeding me. i am new and lonely and settling into my old, good rythms of adventuring alone. i will notice my body's needs and work for them right away.

the house is beautiful and painted inside and peeling and falling apart. it's filled with art from at least three generations. reminds me that the house does not need to be perfect to hold a thriving family. what if i understand my house as something temporary, to be enjoyed, not preserved?

i walked to the water and it looked so gross. walking back i felt rejected by it, and betrayed. water should be sacred and beautiful, but this was dirty and hot and in the wrong place. i miss forest.

it's almost a full moon. it's pretty here. insect noise, quiet, occasional thundering of a car crossing the wooden bridge. i was un-rooted in those weird places yesterday. i'm gonna cook an egg.

waited 2 hours for the only firestone in the phoenix area not backed up to fix my a/c. moon rose while i was driving right for it. i did my gratitues standing on the truck cap at sunset surrounded by the rocks. moon so bright.

over the mountains on 82. i get more uncomfortable on those more remote routes. what's it like to live there? is it scary and dissonant like it seems? the moon is rising now, the previously-scary campground now bright and beautiful. all lit up.

pipeline track interrupted by full-size bushes and washes. the bats, so agile. the earth is big and beautiful and it's holding me.

"bathrooms for paying customers only". they've stolen a right that nature provides from me. good comedic timing on part of the world. it's lightly raning, there's a forest of pines, maples, it's warm but not crazy hot. i was peeing with my shirt off and the rain dripping from the canopy onto my skin. a hug from the world, so familiar.

farm is gorgeous and huge, organized. i want to do it all! bats above the picnic table, picking up glass from the forest. home and growing space for me, to nestle into and fit.