I’ve spent most of my life plowing this field.

The language changes, the industry shifts,

but the work stays the same:

cutting into earth that doesn’t ask for a name,

sowing songs in rows too crooked to harvest cleanly.

This is my first ever fully independent release.

I wanted this because—isn’t most of the joy

in having your knees in the dirt?

Isn’t the harvest sweeter

when the soil has stained your fingernails?

And isn’t this harvest enough:

the days spent with the sun browning your neck,

with callouses sprouting on your hands,

saying: you were faithful to this calling, child?

There is no one now

waiting to convert grief into data.

There is only me,

making things, and releasing them

not like balloons or like birds

but like stones—

back to the river that shaped them.

Strange Thought is out now.

Whatever it means, I trust it to mean it on its own.