I have worked at Astarte Farm, Hadley, MA
Mandaamin Institute, Elkhorn, WI
Sylvestor Manor, Shelter Island, NY
Eartha's Farm in Jacksonville, FL
Down To Earth, Jacksonville, FL

I am from Florida and from a very Florida family, as far as the dysfunctional, wild stereotypes go. I was out of my house by 15 and in community college until I applied on a whim to The Cooper Union where I went from 2012-2016 studying Fine Art. There I grew very disillusioned. I had not entered the enterprise with much ambition for anything. What I had seen and smelled had only repulsed me further. When I left New York I moved around a lot, doing residencies, visiting friends, trying on countries and cities for size. I can't say this helped, it made it all seem so much more silly. What was silly? Life, I supposed. I was way too free- in an endless youthful nihilism, alienated from my body and my present. It was never an indictment of life- just a testament to my own unexamined predisposition. I did not try very hard and still seemed to go on. When I started farming, a reaction occured. I was doing something real in a way my soul really celebrated. Not to eventual fatigue but to my dismay an unending march of novel and deeply spiritual themes, dawn to dusk. And it was something I could eat. It was only ever owed to needing a job, renting a room across from a farm. I was used to taking whatever job for however long in order to scoot my days forward. I had already been on the path of preferring Labor, more tangible less interfacing jobs. It sounds silly to wax poetic about it like this but I regularly say now that it is the only real job that exists.
So anyways I carried on like this and as you can imagine a whole lotta stuff happened in between. I hybrized my twee little ennui with a vague satisfaction in my days uncertain if there was any aim to be found. I'd sometimes think I saw it but it would always switch up. Reach for it, but it was a sneeze. I'd decide it was never really real anyways. Finally, life handed me a Lemon. I started dating this real freak this real weirdo. Lord knows I had done that before but this one made me lose my damn mind, I moved all the way to Virginia just so I could manage to start speaking gain I was so messed up. Not from heart break but from a little freak getting so hard up in my brain like the copper pinchers of a virus I really had to unplug and plug it back in. So once I started talking again, a season had changed and I had managed to get hired running a farm by an even worser weirdo, like the boss level of real messed up mind effers. It blew up and I was so lost. I got another job very quickly but decided then to just do my own thing. I had tried that once before but the land flooded too often. I met some nicce people in varina willing to let me lease their land, and it's working out well. The more I give to others I don't necessarily receive but I instead experience an inverse of that lack of certainty in meaning. Cause in my mind the logic is if I give to others and expect nothing back, well- there is no quip to end that phrase. My satisfcation is in that, that I don't get anything back. I just do it and see. I just do it and see what comes up, or I don't, mow it over. I don't know. I am playing the game. Thanks for reading.