Milla welcomed us into her home like we were family. Touring us around her unbelievable island home, she prepared us food (soup and cast iron waffles, amongst others, oy), took us through woods to fairy tale nature spots, nested a little bed for us next to the wood stove, and even gave us a gift certificate to her shop -- Fireweed and Nettle -- to the point where Phoebe and I turned to each other, "are we dreaming? I'm pretty sure we're going to wake up in a ditch".
Really though, all of this, beyond the wooden home with the cast iron stove, the chickens, the light filled spaces, the mossy shed in the backyard, was unreal. The intent -- living a quiet life in a small community, time spent preparing food, working in the yard, afternoons spent walking to the ocean, or through the woods, it seems faraway and full.
And even now that I'm back in the city the inspiration goes, channeling this magic to find that intent here. I feel attached to culture and convenience and the excitement of being busy, rushing around from place to place, but then I see these photos and remember the fullness I felt with these people, the permanent smile, and how often I felt content enough to just listen to my surroundings (and the many stimulating conversations with these two). Inspired more than ever, I shot 3 rolls of film, baked bread, and even drew a bit. And now I'm back, wearing the leather painted feather earrings Milla gifted me everyday, and figuring how I can find something similar on my own.