Right now, most of my creative energy flows through Metamorphosis Works!, my main Substack. It’s where I publish long-form essays on ecology, grief, mortality, and cultural change. These pieces are slower than the internet prefers. Working on metabolizing death and impermanence so life feels more vivid, not heavier.

Alongside that, I’m serially publishing my first novel, Catharsis, inside my literary Universe called the Metamorphoverse. This is speculative fiction with fungal intelligence, inherited memory, and ecological power at its core. Publishing it in real time has changed how I write. The story is still warm when it reaches readers, and that immediacy matters to me. It keeps the work porous and honest.

A quieter but equally important project is Metamorphosis Mail Club, a monthly ritual delivered through the postal system. Each month, I send a letter and a simple seasonal practice to remind my audience that meaning doesn’t only arrive through screens, and that ritual still belongs in ordinary life.

On the learning side, I’m currently taking the Mythic Body course with Josh Schrei of The Emerald. The course is deepening my relationship to myth as something lived and embodied rather than analyzed from a distance. It’s influencing my writing, my movement practices, and how I think about culture and initiation.

My body is no longer an afterthought in all of this. I’m preparing for yoga teacher training. Endurance and softness are learning to coexist. This season is teaching me that discipline doesn’t have to feel violent, and that care can be rigorous.

I’m writing this while sitting at a cafe in Lima, Peru. I’ve been traveling the country for the past three weeks, soaking in the magic of the Sacred Valley and the Amazon Rainforest while planning out my work for the year. I think Aquarius season is the best possible time to travel. Back home, it’s freezing and the landscape is covered in snow. Here in Peru, it’s 81-degrees and sunny. I’m going to be going on a yearly trip each winter for the rest of my life. It’s the only way I can fight off seasonal depression while getting myself organized for the year.

All of this rolls up into a broader intention for 2026: strengthening my relationship to myself and to my community. Fewer performative commitments and more reciprocal ones. Building structures that can hold care, creativity, and rest at the same time. I’m mapping the year slowly, paying attention to energy rather than forcing outcomes.