intruder/guest

Most of my work is about relationships. This piece is about relationship with place. A document or remnant of my walking practice, my sticks-and-stones-collecting practice. I am exploring questions about belonging and connection. How do we belong to a place? What is our impact on the land? Is it enough to hold love, affection and respect? How do I know if I truly belong? Am I a good guest or an intruder? Can an intruder ever become a good guest?

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pound of flesh/ flesh of my flesh

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there's a time and a place