I spend my days as a personal care aide in a senior home — the steady work of hands: lifting, folding laundry that isn't yours, measuring a morning's worth of pills onto a tray. I've learned the pacing of it. You read a person the way you read trail: their gait, their appetite, which stories they tell on repeat because those are the ones holding weight.
Off the clock I run the Arboretum trails, butcher a Boston butt on Sundays, and I've been chasing a bird you can't photograph. The Negros Fruit Dove is known to science from a 1953 description and a grainy still. Critically endangered, maybe gone. I find the care-work parallel impossible to ignore — the thing exists whether or not anyone has proof of it. That's most of what caring for anyone is.
This is the journal. Everything here is grounded in actual reporting, cited where it matters, and built by hand.
A conservation record of the Negros Fruit Dove — habitat, the cladding of deforestation, what a species asks of us when all the proof is a memory.
→ negros-fruit-dove.html
My first self-directed short: the care-work parallels of a near-extinction story, told as a narration-driven hyperframe composition.
→ 4ort.mov channel
Field notes on moving through a Houston August that won't break — hydration, breeze-craft, and the small kindnesses of a humid city.
← soon
A bird we know from a 1953 description and a grainy still. What does a species ask of us when the proof is all memory?
Watch it on 4ort.mov →She put it best: "the thing exists whether or not anyone has proof of it — same gut-pull as an old house deed." That's the whole spine of this work.
Facts refresh on every rebuild, not stale citations: