the enchantment is real. come and cast spells together. see what magic grows.

i’ve been hanging out in remote east-central new mexico for nearly two years now, and somewhere along the way, i realized i was spellbound here.

most of my effort goes into building a small, increasingly self-sustaining base through regenerative agriculture and land stewardship. i usually avoid calling it permaculture, but for conversation’s sake, let’s call it that.

i came here from pennsylvania with the romantic idea that growing food would mostly involve just that. the magic is different here — more primal, indifferent, and occasionally pretty brutal: wind, heat, cold nights, poor soil, water management, infrastructure, shade, and the occasional reminder that it doesn’t particularly care what i had planned for the day. so far, it feels less like success or failure and more like paying tuition in fairy dust. haha.

and yet, i love it here. the land kicks my ass with some regularity, but whatever enchantment is woven through this place softens the blow. each morning, the panoramic sunrise heals me enough to go at it again.

i love the wide-open scrublands, the big skies, the silence, and having enough room to think. i like the rhythm of remote living: hands in the dirt, stirring up mycelium; figuring out complicated spells; brewing something delicious; sharing it with neighbors; watching raw forces simultaneously ravage and nurse the land.

the place is nowhere near finished. neither am i. that’s part of the appeal.

i’m predominantly vegetarian, and tend to borrow from zen, buddhism, and taoism for perspective. growing up in pennsylvania also left me with an appreciation for amish notions of simplicity, utility, stewardship, and making do with what you have.

ambivert is probably the closest label. i enjoy practical problem-solving and creative wandering, thoughtful conversation and ridiculous conversation, being outside and disappearing into an interesting idea. i like people who can move comfortably between those spaces.

i’m fairly open-minded about who people are and how they identify. what matters most to me is how someone weaves their own path through the world — with curiosity, grace, self-awareness, and enough mutability to keep growing. sometimes it’s good to give in to the primal magic, abandon the plan, and let ourselves be moved.

for me, richness looks something like cooking together, wandering around a garden deciding what needs doing, having a few people over for dinner, learning something neither of us knew before, making something with our hands, sitting outside when the evening is good, and occasionally abandoning whatever we were supposed to be doing because an interesting conversation took over.

richness, both in depth and breadth, is the real treasure. but if you came with a bag of gems, that’ll work too. haha.

i’m not looking for someone to simply fit into a life i’ve already designed. things are taking shape here, and having a companion spellcaster could conjure some pretty interesting results.

i welcome your magic. let’s cast something together and see what grows.