A journey into sacred land, spiritual expansion, and aging as a return to the wild, guided by unseen forces and a spirit lover, Hans.

An intimate account of my connection with Hans, a ghostly fighter pilot, as I navigate love, trauma, and the echoes of shared past lives.

Hans came through for the time during a visitation astral visitation on 10/31/93, shortly following his death.

Creative work and partnership with subtle entities

It can be very tricky having sex with a spirit. For one, they are oftentimes invisible, so you have to get creative...

There are a million ways to describe what it's like to be erotically touched by a spirit. And yet it befuddles me to describe the experience

The term sayfish metaphorically captures one of the challenges of being in an inter-dimensional marriage.

I wish I could say that my relationship with Hans is a perpetual "mystical love affair" as my drawing title indicates.

As I process what it means to be married to a spirit, the term verboten culturally enslaves my relationship with Hans and deems it demonic.

Although he had been a fighter pilot in Germany in his previous life, equipped with his own wingman, now, as spirit, he is not here to lead.

It’s hard to find the words to describe what it’s like to be held by a spirit, by a subtle being devoid of skin.

A lot has happened since the last time I posted, including transferring schools and PhD programs.

Sad song by Bob Moses. The entire album, Days Gone By, is a requiem for the Surfside collapse + for my past life collapse trauma.

I’ve been battling depression since I was 14. In many ways, consider myself a warrior—always reaching into my “resiliency gene”...

Cigarettes and sex are on your breath again It's cool, I'm the same, the way we kiss...

Do you remember all the sounds, when I found you by the lake, and how the water seemed to call your name?

Early this morning, around 3 or 4 am, ich sehe in der Ferne, I see you in the distance, hovering in the black void, smiling...

They have destroyed your beauty, your canopy that once enfolded me into your splendor.

When reality suffuses our castle in the air, the yearning resumes its poisoned trail, weighing the heart. fogging the mind.

Lavavoth | Death Tarot Card | © 2018 First phase of digital illustration and collage. Note the lace cascading from his sailor hat—an...