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Seasonal reflections & updates

Rain sings on the roof

The leaves whisper of change

they say, you are home.

The leaves whisper of change. The mountain forest trees are painted vibrant glowing gold to deep rust reds, the color spreading like a wildfire across the slopes.

Its been raining consistently here for a few days now, it had been unsettlingly warm for fall, but the storms are thankfully changing that, their clouds are lingering. The rain sometimes so heavy that I can’t see the mountains just outside town. In the distance over in Colorado I can see large storms nestled around the San Juan mountains as well. I wonder if there will be snow on their peaks soon, I do hope so.

The song of rain on the metal roof wraps me in a cocoon, and I feel like a small creature tucked away all cozy and warm in its burrow. This is my first fall in my new home, it feels almost like the autumns of the Northeast where I grew up. I’ve been feeling a familiar ache of childhood homesickness for my favorite season, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it.

I haven’t felt a “proper autumn” since moving to the desert. Fall in Moab always felt a little hollow to me, it is absolutely stunning and beautiful in its own ways, but it doesn’t feel like the fall I deeply crave. The air is too warm, the earth too dry, the smells lacking of spicy leaf litter. The La Sal mountains outside town were alive with fall color, but they felt just too far out of reach for daily excursions. Here, in the foothills of the Abajos, I can finally fully feel the autumn shift. I feel alive again.

Among aspen light

I shed my human edges

feral heart restored

The mountain forests have been nourishing my soul. Among the trees, the rules of men fall away, and I return to something wilder and more feral.. I wander through stands of aspen, each glowing like small suns, their quaking leaves scattering the light. It dapples along my chilled skin like the spots on a newborn fawn. The constant rain has left the forest floor damp & soft the scent of leaves, soil, and decay surrounds me, how I love this smell. It feels familiar. It feels like the places I once called home.

I slowly walk without direction, following game trails through the undergrowth, stopping to observe my surroundings. eventually I stumble upon the skeleton of a mule deer, it is old, she has been long gone, the bones, weathered , cracked and flaking with time. I trace the delicate curve of her ribs, marveling at their fragility. The wind suddenly stirs the trees, it rains gold. the leaves of aspen dance through the air, they are still wet from the storms, clinging to my hair and cheeks as they fall. They are beautiful.

Bones beneath my touch,

the forest remembers all

gold leaves dance above.

I find a small clearing, a circle of light nestled among Gambel oaks and aspen. The leaves here are deep and soft. I sink into them and lay down, breathing in the damp earth, it is rich, musky, alive. Tiny feathery yarrow leaves push through the litter, defiant and green. I dig my fingers into the dark, cold soil and wonder how many lives have been lived and lost to create it. I feel rooted and grounded. Above me, a Steller’s Jay cries out from above, loud, sharp, & insistent. pulling me from my thoughts, hopping from branch to branch, He does not seem pleased that I am here.

My cattle dog, who has become impatient with my stillness, begins to pile sticks on top of me, he wants to play. There is an endless amount for him to choose from, The larger ones thud against my shins (it hurts and I know they will surely bruise me) I laugh and let him continue, knowing there’s no use in trying to stop him as he is a stubborn & persistent little creature. So I lie there, in my bed of golden leaves under an ever growing blanket of branches, watching the clouds drift through the sky. The scent of rain and earth filling my lungs. I feel lighter. I feel whole. The forest always takes what is heavy in me and softens it.

Hands sink into earth

small paws drum the forest floor

joy finds me again.

I stay like this until the sky becomes grey and the rain begins again. The temperature drops quickly and the air is now sharp with wet cold, my least favorite of the temperature sensations. When it becomes too much, I rise and make my way back to the van. As I drive home, fog lingers on the mountains. Tears being to slip down my cheeks as I smile at the beauty of it all. I roll down the window and reach my hand into the rain, feeling the sting of icy drops against my skin, and in that moment, I remember why I am an artist.

Rain against my skin,

reminds me why I create

to honor being alive.

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Updates- Art Markets,Shop Updates & Wholesale

✷ Shop Update ✷ SUNDAY at 6pm MST I’ll be doing a small pre-holiday restock! I’m adding a few new prints and adding a bunch of blank greeting cards! I’ve been out of stock on quite a few things lately, so hopefully this little micro update will tide everyone over until my final shop update of the year in November.

✷ Wholesale ✷ I’m officially on FAIRE! It took most of the summer to get everything ready for wholesale….. way more work than I expected, but it’s finally done.

If there’s a store you think should carry my work, please let them know! And if you’re a retailer interested in carrying my art, you can use the FAIRE direct link below.

✷ pinebones.faire.com ✷

One of my goals for 2026 is to build financial stability that isn’t tied to Instagram. It’s stressful knowing my success and well-being depend on who sees my posts about print drops and updates. I’m hoping that having a wholesale option will provide some much needed stability, allowing me to focus more on creating and less on chasing visibility.

✷ Art Markets ✷ I have quite the fall line up going on here, were packing up the truck and camper and going on a month long road trip to make all these markets work, i am excited but nervous. Here’s all the markets ill be doing as of now :)

If you are in any if these locations you should drop in and say hello :) as a bonus the Seattle renegade is going to be on my birthday!!!!!

Thank you for your support, while I don’t have as much time to write and work on this Substack as id like, I do enjoy writing for it when I am able.

-Holls