THIS COUNTRY IS BREAKING MY HEART

I don’t have a neat or poetic way to begin this. No metaphor, no clever hook. Just raw fucking heartbreak and rage.

Every day, it feels like we’re watching this country rot from the inside out. The headlines don’t even feel real anymore…people are being hunted down, tortured and murdered for the color of their skin or because of who they love, all while literal fucking Nazis are getting elected and over half of the country shrugs and looks away or applauds this shit. The hate is loud. The silence is just as fucking loud. The feeling of helplessness? It’s real.

I keep thinking I should be doing more. I want to be doing more. What the hell does that look like though? The scale of violence…this white supremacist, greedy, power-drunk system…it’s all built to make us feel small. Overwhelmed. Helpless. 

And that’s where I get stuck…between freeze and fury. I don’t want to become numb. I don’t want to tune it out or fall into some gross, toxic optimism. I want to feel. I want to stay awake. I want to DO MORE.

No matter what anyone tries to tell you - this isn’t about politics. It’s about fucking humanity.

And honestly? All of this…the hate, the violence, the helplessness…it makes it really fucking hard to create. For myself and for my clients. 

Some days I stare at my camera or my computer and think, What’s the fucking point? How do I even attempt to make art right now? How do I sell anything, market anything, speak beauty into the world when everything feels like it’s unraveling?

The deep, intimate, soul-connecting kind of work I usually love has felt meaningless most days. And yet…I have to keep doing it. I have to keep pushing out content, booking sessions, keeping the machine moving. If I stop, the rent doesn’t get paid. The roof doesn’t stay over our heads. 

It feels dirty. It feels wrong.
I want out of this system so goddamn badly I could scream.

I dream of living in a community of mutual aid and shared resources. Where we trade time and goods and care and love. Where I photograph someone because they bring me fresh eggs or make me a tincture or help me split firewood…not because we’re all trapped under the weight of capitalistic survival. I want a simple fucking life. One built on community and interdependence and enoughness…not hustle and output and pretending everything is just fine and dandy.

But I don’t live there. Not yet.

The closest I ever got to it…the kind of life I crave…was while living a nomadic life…bus-dwelling in the desert amongst others like me. I CRAVE that simple life so badly. It was scrappy and beautiful and grounding in a way that nothing else ever has been. For a moment, it felt like maybe that dream life wasn’t so far-fetched. Maybe we really could build something slower, wilder, more human.

But now? Everything’s different. The country is crumbling even more. And because of this broken-ass capitalist system, it’s nearly impossible for many of us to find and hold onto that dream. To stake a claim in something simple and sustainable. We’re expected to create beauty and pay the bills and fight injustice and keep fucking smiling through it all.

I want out of this fucking circus. I want the dirt between my toes. I want the wind in my face. I want a communal life among people who give a shit.

I want to make art because I love it. I want to make art because it connects me to people and the natural world, not because I’m terrified of what happens if I don’t.

But for now, I’m still here. I’m still clawing my way through this mess of a country, creating because I have to, trying to remember that even under capitalism, art can still be rebellion. Love and motherfucking joy ARE a form of resistance.

If you’ve followed me and my work for any amount of time, you know this already: I’m not here to be palatable. I’m not here to attract humans who can compartmentalize or stay comfortable in the face of injustice. I have been building my life and my work to create community with, work with and be seen by the ones who feel deeply, who know that rage is sacred, who understand that we are bigger than our financial worth.

I’m writing this because I need to say it out loud: I’m heartbroken. I’m angry. I’m overwhelmed. And I refuse to look away.

I don’t have answers. I don’t know what to do right now. Sharing our grief, our rage, our stories is fine and all…but what the fuck do we do to incite actual change?

I want to hear from you. What are you feeling right now? What’s been sitting heavy on your chest?  Where have you been finding even the tiniest sparks of hope or fight? How are you staying present without drowning? And MOST importantly…what are YOU doing to fight the power? I truly want to know. I WANT to do better, I want to do more to create change in this filthy, ugly system and country.

Leave a comment. Send me a message. Talk to your people. WE MUST NOT STAY SILENT.

We may feel helpless, but we cannot let ourselves feel hopeless.

And, although it sometimes feels like it, we sure as hell are not alone.