Watching birds flitting around a bush, getting closer finding berries, looking at how they stain the earth below them, crushing them in my fingers, a magnificent purple. Then looking, finding identification Sambucus canadensis the American Elderberry. There is a history I have been severed from to not know the name of a plant like the name of a friend. Nestling my nose in a freshly wound cake of yarn taking me back to a hay stacked barn. Delighting in sharing this knowledge with friends, in remembering my past and marveling at the transformations that take place when colors shift on natural fibers.

My practice is concerned with how my relationships to people, nature, and fibers interconnect. It often takes the form of poetry alongside an often handspun and always naturally dyed woven, knitted, nålebinded, or quilted object.