In this uncertain time of climate change, growing economic disparity, social unrest, and "housing crisis," floating bones concocts an elixir of healing and interconnection by combining the traumas of homelessness, heartbreak, and loneliness with a kaleidoscopic meditation of language, image, sound, and nature.

I was homeless during most of the 1990's. It was a skeletal existence, revolving around the basic needs of obtaining food and a place to sleep. I floated within and observed the world from the empty spaces I found within it. Thirty years later in the spring of 2022, I relocated to the Pacific Northwest. Circumstances went awry, and I ended up un-housed for three months, caught in the current “housing crisis.”

floating bones is the product of this time I spent between homes. It conveys an unseen face of homelessness—that when one is not attached to an inner space, at once everywhere and nowhere is home; that homelessness is a lonely but vast space to inhabit; that the aperture of right-here opens and receives one with nowhere to go; and that even once “safely” housed again, inside spaces seem less solid than they did before, as does one’s sense of place within the human world - a world that is dependent on the Earth as a home we all share, a home that is itself in crisis.

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