nature

  • Inside: 90,000 Reasons I Count Myself Lucky

    To all of you who joined me in Limbo-Land, thank you. It was comforting to know the message did get out. I’ve never been locked out of my site and it took weeks to get help from the Behemoth, but the portal did eventually open. The experience left me curious; how often do the other…

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  • My Friend Chaos

    “Verily at the first Chaos came to be, but next wide-bosomed Earth…” – Hesiod,  Theogony Sometimes I have to remind myself; even though there’s a lot going on around me and in me, I have choices; Make the moment the priority. “Chaos and Order are not enemies, only opposites. Chaos and Order combined equal balance.” –…

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  • Innerscapes, a reprieve

    …how unlikely it is

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  • Chair Noir: A Chew Story

    What’s your most memorable dental adventure? Have you ever had to play dentist to yourself or a furry friend? Share your survival stories at augusteh.blsky.social – misery loves company, and we’re always recruiting for our club of uprooted dental warriors.

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  • Julia Cameron’s Way

    Remember the book, The Artist’s Way, The tiny events one did with oneself, the Rated-PG kind, were prescribed by Cameron for filling the well of inspiration within the container of attention. This Sunday I plan to start artist’s dates again. I’ll enter one into my calendar for the afternoon. The West Coast fog lifts after…

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  • Little Rituals

    Some mornings I go out as the sun is lighting up the pavement on the runway, sip my hot tea, and let the metaphor of take-off fuel my imagination. The faint outline of potential stretches over the next several hours opening doors to figurative realms. Many will remain uninhabited but a few will beckon with…

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  • On Purpose

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  • Ouroboric: Tailing the Year as Limit Experience

    Looking back on 2024, one of my dreams came true; it was a colossal one for me. I’d been incubating a dream that emerged when I was six years old. In my twenties it had come to fruition, then been overtaken by my soul’s desire to become a mother. Over this past summer the vision…

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  • just us

    the further along i get in my own story i realize i am less and less the author.

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Auguste Hill