The Healer’s Tale

This is a piece that emerged from a vivid nighttime dream. In a not-so-distant future, I am living in England where, as a healer, I’m telling a group of people (herbalism students, I think) about a time in the past when the pharmaceutical medicines and antibiotics stopped working. Blurring lines of fiction and a shaman’s reality,…

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Belonging In A Real World

Friend, if you do not know how to live in the world because it breaks your heart, sometimes daily, you are not alone. This morning I woke with grief like a dark lion in my chest, some nameless fear, stalking me from the Dreamtime. And I felt the old weariness in sullen bones, the quiet…

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The Dreamtime of the Plants

In the distance, the grey ocean rumbles with a low voice, a primordial chant that my bones know and always resound with deep longing. The full moon rises to the east, a luminous pearl set upon dark blue velvet, while the shapely, shadowed hands of trees reach up as if to touch it, or perhaps simply offer their wordless song…

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New Year, New Directions

In 2012, recently returned from years of living in Europe, in hopes of attracting a publisher for my manuscript, I launched the Soul Artist Journal along with the Riverspeak podcast (now defunct, despite ongoing requests to bring it back). What began as merely a means to an end—establishing an author’s platform to help promote my…

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