Photography: Tomales Catholic Cemetery

“The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place.”—Percy Bysshe Shelley, Adonais

I’ve passed the Tomales Catholic cemetery for years and always wanted to stop. On Thanksgiving, I finally did. Wandering the grounds taking pictures of the beautiful statues, some dating back to the 1800s, my mind wandered to my own lineage. I have no sacred grounds to honor my ancestors and so I choose to think of them.

Hawks circled above me and the sun shone far too bright in the early afternoon sky. I felt a variety of feelings from unease to joy. I wondered about the women who came before me and the roads they walked. Gratitude flooded my body. My camera is a time machine. A lens to see more than I can.

Walk with me.


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  • Photos were taken with Olympus OM-D  and edited with ON1 Photo RAW

Poetry: Heavy and light

7/30

My body feels heavy
Carrying ancient ancestral groves
Balanced upon my crown
Rooted within acrid soil.

My body feels heavy
Thickly bound bloody strings
Tautly held wounded anger
Attached within my chest.

My body wants light
Clear-cut forests laid bare
Tiny seedlings taking hold
Reaching out both directions.

My body wants light
Sharp scissors slice free
Snapping bright red strands
Allowing one liberated breath.


This ekphrastic poem was inspired by the sculpture above titled “Ancestor 1” by Aisha Harrison. It’s currently on display at the Crocker Art Museum.

More short poems:
1/30: not my cat
2/30: comfort
3/30: ache
4/30: remember
5/30: graduation
6/30: big love