I had come to depend on it in the way that only a walking stick can be depended on.

A simple guide for—and personal account of—harvesting and smoking red osier dogwood, or what Native Americans and pioneers of the Ohio Valley called kinnikinnick.

Erik tells me he’s thinking of eating psychedelic mushrooms, something he hasn’t yet done in life. He thinks he’ll “microdose,” he says.

I must talk him out of this insanity.

Today is Earth Day. I purchased a bike shop.

While on the road through Flagstaff, Arizona, my van goes caput. I pause to record impressions.

Journal entries from a weeklong desert trip.

You can’t study the darkness by flooding it with light.

I've been thinking lately that we humans aren't as complex and mysterious as I'd originally supposed.

I went camping and the moon was full and when it reached in the sky to eleven o’clock I abandoned my fire and walked.
 

The skies are clearing, the days warming. I don't mind the pain.

I believed there was a way out, and I thought if I could find it and document it then others would find a way out too.

Do you ever feel exhausted or alone or confused so badly that the answers you normally feed yourself about life and meaning lose their efficacy?

I went to Burning Man to make a cultural study, to find and contribute to an engaging community, to make art, and to party my ass off. But I'm not sure I'll do it again.

A real man is honest enough to admit his need to be validated, is courageous enough to live as though he doesn’t have this need, and is kind enough to assent to this need in others.

It’s funny, growing up. You realize that all the perfect things you thought would come about, don’t.

Since I started living clean I have noticed two things in society which trouble me: First, almost everyone is an addict. Secondly, we all lie. Especially to ourselves.