Learn your Landscapes is an ongoing series of paintings and poetry snippets depicting landscapes of places I used to call home, or places I visited and which shaped pivotal bits of my identity. 

The air is always thick

with humidity and the certain promise of

oncoming chaos.

Rebuilding on rubble is routine.

For now the sea beckons and the arak flows.

There is no sound more soothing

than the farewell of a whale.

It’s just you and the sun now. 

We are so insignificant

mountains tumbling into prairies rolling into

cities that feel accidental.

If you want to get lost, this is the place.

Hair frizzy skin slightly cold

sidewalks still glistening with rain.

Fog is a permanent state of mind around these parts.

Move slow and with intention, we’re all friends here.

Bright blues mask missing mud

what else did we take that wasn’t ours?

The history cuts so deep

and the salt stings.

When the skies turn orange it’s

the desert vs. man.

The smell of garlic

and garbage burning.

In the summers thunder lights up

endless horizons buzzing with mosquitos.

Snow can be shovelled with brooms

hope gathered time and time again.

Cargo Collective 2017 — Frogtown, Los Angeles