I explore how people connect, transcend, and heal through sensory experience.
That includes art, music, and dance; food, drink, and drugs; spiritual and esoteric practices; and all forms of altered states. I represent and connect with experiences, traditions, and communities outside the Eurocentric mainstream.
We learn who we are through the ways in which we nourish ourselves.
The things we eat and drink, and the ways we cultivate, create, and consume them, are powerful markers of identity. Not only do they teach us about ourselves, they also provide a portal to other places, people, and times.
Ask anyone involved with food and beverage anywhere in the world why they do it, and they all say the same thing: because it brings people together. I find fascinating stories of innovative producers and creators wherever I go, building instant bonds over bottles and cans, plates and plants.
The stories I share are enveloped in sight, sound, smell and flavor, enlivened by the experiences of the people behind them. I serve deep historical, personal, and sociological insights with an approach as warm and inviting as a steaming bowl of handmade pasta.
The Pacific Northwest is where I’m from, and it’s always in my heart: naturally abundant and breathtakingly beautiful, from soaring peaks to searing blue coastline, where food and beverage is a bounty of biodiversity in every bite. My second home is the UK and Europe, where vibrant communities of global misfits live loud and make art in every medium amidst bustling, foggy cityscapes where ancient forests stand sentinel. Both places, like anywhere, are ciphers for broader problems and solutions.
Connecting in community and remembering what we forgot.
Through my work, I challenge consensus reality and explore that most ancient and universal human drive: to return to oneness with each other, the Earth, and what’s beyond through states of softened ego. Whether we get there through plants, prayer, pints, or that most powerful medicine, music, it’s all consciousness-altering, and it’s all part of why we’re here.
Our relationships with these substances and practices inform and reflect individual and collective identities, inherently defying binary conceptions of nature and culture. Especially for underrepresented populations, these can provide pathways for awakening, helping us explore our true selves and heal from trauma—as long as they’re used intentionally and stewarded carefully, always defined by cultural and environmental reciprocity.
We’re all looking to connect with other people, each other, ourselves, and higher forces. There are lots of ways to do this, whether it’s sharing a meal with friends or reconnecting with a lost and wounded part of ourselves. I have met many all over the world who are following timeless traditions, forging their own, and forming unions of syncretic cultures, practices, and people aimed at healing and community. I not only explore these through my art, research, and life, but can help those who are new to spiritual practices and healing modalities find the right one. Contact me to learn more—or, if you’re a provider or practitioner, to join the mycelial network.
The subtle realms speak through the senses.
The things we eat and drink teach us about ourselves. You truly “are what you eat,” for food and drink is the basis for civilization itself. It is intimately interconnected with all aspects of life: art and craft; history and heritage; religion and ritual; politics and economics.
Subsistence methods define the anthropological record, because this is how humans interact with and shape their world. As we cultivate our nourishment and share the fruits of these labors, we participate in the cosmic dance, marking with food and drink ritual and ceremony; celebration and sorrow; all the things that make a life.
Cuisine is also a powerful means of understanding others. In one taste, you are transported to a bustling street corner on a sticky Bangkok night; a Pacific Northwest forest, the scent of wet leaves and fresh pine filling your lungs; the clattering markets of Cairo, spiced aromas suspended in the hot, thick air; a verdant pasture in the Skagit Valley where cows graze lazily, blinking long-lashed into the sun; a Sunday dinner table laden with tureens of rich, savory dishes, warmly spiced aromas wafting from their carefully lifted lids.
Food and beverage, produced outside the corporate system by people who care, is more than just sustenance. It helps us understand our past, anchors us in the now, and bridges to a better tomorrow.