Alberta


Building Sanctuary throughout a lifetime

Building Sanctuary throughout a lifetime

Sanctuary is the name of my parent's home on the LaHave River. Sanctuary describes both the soul of the place and the meaning of home. Home, not as a structure or a particular location, but as a place where relationships are built and sustained, where family can always find refuge.

From field and forests, across oceans (week four)

From field and forests, across oceans (week four)

I feel at home in the trees in a way that defies my prairie upbringing. Maybe because before they were farmers, my ancestors carved small homesteads out of primeval European forest in ages past. And even more recently lived in the woods.

For the pain that can't be borne

For the pain that can't be borne

I can't guarantee their safety, success, or well-being. I can't guarantee my own. This is the deep aching vulnerability of being human.

The loopy trail that is our lives (The mountains are calling)

The loopy trail that is our lives (The mountains are calling)

If I had known, in my early twenties that I was a mountain girl I would have never moved east. I would have gone west.

Softer, older, rounder (The mountains are calling)

Softer, older, rounder (The mountains are calling)

I associated the mountains with summer vacation. It wasn't a place you lived, despite the obvious evidence of locals, it was a place you visited.

Moving to the margins

Moving to the margins

I grew up in the happy bubble of secure ignorance. This is not a bad thing for a child to experience. In fact I think it's one of the most developmentally supportive conditions, for childhood. But eventually you have to grow up and become aware of your own privilege.

Where is the margin?

Where is the margin?

Somehow in the story telling, in the life living, we forgot that we were outsiders once. Every single one of us.