Everywhere Green, a colorway
Hiking, hillsides, tracing the edge of grief, and prompts for the inner terrain
Colorway is a meditation on color — an additional, monthly essay for sustaining subscribers with deeper dives into memories, practices, and colors in the Odette Press collections. Today, an essay on Hillside, walking, and trails of thinking. Read to the end for landscape-inspired journaling prompts, book recommendations, and a discount code for 10% off the Hillside colored journals over in in the Odette Press.
First, sound: feet crunch soil. Two feet, solo. There’s a rhythm to it — this dirt gravel, this growing light. Malibu. Wintertime. Hillside.
One February, seeking some sun, I take a plane out West. I cross coasts, touching feet to landmasses as parenthesis. The moment is two hands cupped together and whispering from some other isthmus of feeling, a place off in the distant horizon. The gift of space. I am barely holding it together as I land, liftoff shifting some density from body and mind, some semblance of grounding starts to settle in landing. The winter of disengaging of loss, of relating, of place — the kind of moment that coils its way in and around your existence.