Who are my people? The silenced. Those who stood and died without voice or recognition. The unremembered beautiful. The ghosts whose dreams rose and departed in quiet splendor, without acclaim. The rarely noticed. The ignored. The disappeared. The destroyed.

These are my people… and though countless humans are amongst them… the vast majority are trees, living places, animals… and beings without the forms of speaking that the human cultures admit. I stand proudly with their number, and humbly offer my voice in remembrance and recognition of their struggles, beauty, dreams, and memory — in admiration and respect for their secret and often sacred missions.