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To come back to nature is to come back to yourself. We are electromagnetic—connected to the center of this spinning ball we call home. We are brilliant as technology revolutionizes our footprint. And the source of this brilliance comes from our connection to nature, understanding how it works, and having reverence for its presence.


We are all artists when we are in nature.


I love taking artists I'm working with into the core of the earth—through trails and trees, as we know it will light up the music in the atmosphere. It lights up the music inside you, which makes it easier to bring your unique song through you and into the mic.

Concrete Wall

Templeton Trail to Cathedral Rock

For so long he was held close in their arms wrapped in everyday comforts, shielded from the hunter’s gaze.


The horn sounded his initiation. The sound rattled their bones and their knees gave way,


The townspeople, seeing him grow over the years, Wailed at this sight.


Our young one entering the forest with nothing but hands to hold up his underpants.


Will he disappear forever amongst these trees and red rocks? Those unkempt paths have no light after the sunset.


Heaviness circled in their hearts

Synced to the circling of the

Sun Despite its many rotations their heavy heads weighed with chop wood


Their heavy heads weighted with wood


Many suns crossed the sky


Until that same horn signaled his return.


Everybody turned their gaze in the same direction and saw him emerge.


Resting on his shoulders laid a tiger skin keeping him warm. In ever moment, face to face with the tiger now draped over his shoulder.


Without opening his mouth you can see his roar.


The roar in his eyes came before spoken words Revealing the vision of what happened.


This tiger tracked him for many days and was the constant story of his mind.


Face-to-face was inevitable.


As the heat passed between sharp teeth


he thought, “Oh my god, I’m going to die.”


Terror became him


And he gave himself to it.


A roar from his root claimed the space.


A new depth took over.


Jolted completely into the present moment, All in a moment questioning the value of his future. The significance of his past.


In this battle he triumphed but he bowed at the lessons he learned from the tiger.


Why was this battle that now results in the tiger skin drapped over his shoulder.


The tiger skin drapped over his shoulder expressed moments of necessity.


Next to his right foot dug a cedarwood staff.


He gripped an obsidian stone fixed to the top of its wood.


Reverence in his walk. As his people witnessed this sight,


Every cell of their bodies celebrated.


The one they knew was gone,


Left behind in that wilderness.


He looked at his hand. The blood pumping through his skin.


The lines on his palms read a new story.


In a voice deeper than was familiar to them, he said:


There’s a gift in an animal’s ferociousness.


A treasure in the terror of a spider’s home.


Here, the trees repeat one phrase:


“Stay alert to us in constant love, and when there are any concerns,


We’ll let you know.”

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