My 12/03/25 postcard is a cluster of empty drink cans hanging from the bare branches of a winter tree near Zuni, each one wired on like an ornament. It feels accidental and intentional at the same time, a tiny gallery of what people leave behind, caught in the limbs of a tree that didn’t ask for any of it.
My 02/04/26 postcard is a withered sunflower head hanging heavy at the end of its…
My 02/03/26 postcard is a torn prickly pear fruit, its skin split wide to reveal…
My 02/02/26 postcard is a Monday morning on Nob Hill, the city easing itself awake.…
My 02/01/26 postcard is shards of broken glass embedded in the soil at Albuquerque’s Glass…
My 01/31/26 postcard is a rolled, weathered leaf that was still attached to the tree,…
My 01/30/26 postcard is a dried flower head, stripped of color and life, that is…
