I’m a Texan, and for ten years now an immigrant in the cold north woods of Montana. It’s here in Montana that I began my naturalist studies, examining the ecology of the mountains and how life interacts with environment. I’ve hunted the deer and the ducks, gardened the soil, and I’ve learned the names of plants and birds. It’s here I learned to canoe a river. It’s here I honed my craft as a woodworker, trying to understand the material as living creature, artistic medium, and structural pragmatism.
Sunrise in the desert-Death Valley, CA
Hiking in Patagonia
It’s in Texas, though, that I learned about music. I learned about country music and blues. Unfortunately this has led to years and years of frustration with a guitar in my arms. I have a grand tradition to live up to and I’ve a long way to go.
Sitting with Wylie on the coast of the Puget Sound
After a long day on the slopes of Aconcagua
Writing songs and studying the natural world have thus far been the best tools in my attempt to comprehend just what the hell we’re doing here on this planet. So far I have very few answers, but I do still have an inclination to leave the world, or at the least a few lives, in a better condition than when I arrived.
With my sweetheart in the San Juans
Fall in Montana with friends and familiy
Lately the beauty of boats has consumed me. The distance, the depth, and the complexity of the sea has consumed me. It’s a romance for certain, but that’s okay. It’s a romance that makes me think of Katie.