Wherever the trail may lead.

Here is the path to a world of materials and objects and stories and all the time that goes into making them. All the time that goes into disintegration, back to the dust from which they were blown.

Follow that first shot. Back to where it came from. To where you were shaped and formed between the tall grass and the lake water. It's the raw dirt of home that scraped us together. That's what we put to the page. It's the legends of landscapes, and the people tucked up in between. It's the call of the holler and the hills, telling us to take that path. Now. While we got the chance. Time shifts, you know, and it's gone.