This piece was written after avoidance failed and accountability became unavoidable. Behind Old Bellingham City Hall, with the bass of Drowning in the Drip grounding me in my body, I stayed present with the harm I caused, the consequences I earned, and the amends I am making without asking for forgiveness. This is not a…
I woke up anxious and didn’t run. I faced anxiety and didn’t spiral. Thirty-seven days sober in the hardest season of my life, I chose movement over meltdown and discipline over drama. This dance isn’t performance. It’s proof. Identity death cracked me open, and what came back is steadier, sharper, and done selling out.
A feral meditation and interpretive dance about shadow, surrender, and radical love. “Devastate Me” is a vow to keep giving my heart—no armor, no regrets—even when it breaks.
A 12.8-mile photo walk through Bellingham became more than a color study in orange, it became a marker of recovery. Long-distance walking helps regulate my nervous system and acts as somatic exposure therapy, keeping me engaged with the world instead of retreating from it. Thirty days ago I threw away my cannabis, and I’m about…