Our spirits cry out for all that has been lost in the machine-induced amnesia of our times, and for the viscerally wounded landscapes of our home. We feel an irrepressible desire to re-member, to speak truth, to light a guiding flame for our fellow wanderers in the cultural wreckage of this age; those who yearn for meaning, those who seek reconnection to primal forms of wisdom and Knowing.

We pour ourselves into this work, and build the flame into a bonfire, against the darkness of alienation and disenchantment so ubiquitous to this era. We turn towards the light of the Numinous; that which defies logic and reason, that which is imbued with a sacred mystery. What we cannot understand and quantify is the purest inspiration; the sweetest wellspring from a deep source. We rage against the soulless machine logic that plagues our world, dissolving landscapes and human cultures alike into a grey homogeneity. We venerate the strangeness and heresies that exist at the margins of culture, that come surging forth when the center cannot hold.

Our old ones whisper to us in dreams and fleeting visions, but the wisdom that we seek lies buried in a cloud of forgetting. Our connection to the realm of Spirit is an atrophied muscle, left unused by our ancestors in their migrations across the Earth, as both colonized and colonizers. In our grasping forays into ritual song and performance, we gain strength once again. We are re-membering parts of the soul that have long laid dormant, that have no use in the world of the rational and mechanized. We do not espouse a specific path in this healing work; our journeys thus far have shown us a vibrant multitude of paths that all lead back to the Source.

Our animal souls thrive with direct experience and connection, unmediated by the depthless mirrors of modern digital media. We open ourselves to the inhuman and ancient entities that surround us: Salish Sea, Olympic Mountains, the Skokomish, Steh-Chass, and Quilcene rivers. Towering cedars shedding their needles at summer’s end. Sun setting over salt water. The rain in endless fall. Each performance is informed by its locale, whether forest grove or industrial decay, as we call on our surroundings to participate in our story. Physical place and movement within it has become the heart of our meditation, the medium from which our visions spring forth. Our terrestrial reciprocities lead our hearts to seek hope, and it is towards hope that our songs and performances gravitate, always.

We do not seek to recreate a bygone golden age, nor do we revel in dystopian visions of what is to come. Our work is the work of the seasons changing, the planets wandering across the sky, the bodies decomposing in the Earth. Above all, our work is to re-member. It is the shadows of forgetting that shroud our futures in darkness. Through the endless storms of fracture and dissolution, we lift up this offering for the sake of all Life.