Time Seeds
Long-term listening to the land: a prairie cosmogram
Over winter break, I had the rare gift of time—time to reflect, and time to make.
Some of that making was very physical: finishing the wood on the interior walls of my studio, working with my hands, watching surfaces slowly come alive. Other making happened in a more imaginative space, as I became deeply immersed in a new meditative sound installation, Time Seeds, commissioned for the exhibition Life on Land, organized by Emily & Todd Voth Artspace (January 30–March 14, 2026).
These two modes of creation feed me in different ways. Building the studio is gratifying in a tangible sense—each completed surface moves the space closer to being “done.” The progress is visible. Palpable. The sound installation, by contrast, unfolds more quietly, in the realm of listening, imagination, and thought. Both feel essential. Together, I feel deeply fortunate to have so many ways of making.
Light informed design
Every aspect of finishing the studio interior has been shaped by light.
The cantilevered exterior creates ever-changing shadow triangles throughout the year—deep and long in summer, shallow and fleeting in winter. Watching these patterns return and transform became a kind of collaboration with time itself.
Although I love the wide, open prairie, the Rocky Mountains will always hold a tender place in my heart. As a final interior gesture, I created a mountain-scape in wood trim—bringing that memory indoors.
Shadow as design template
Following the light taught me how to build
Attention becomes manifest
Light traced prototype
Over winter, I slowed down. I worked with my hands. Wood darkened. Surfaces softened. The studio learned how to hold its shapeshifting light. Ideas gather. Sound awaits. Time opens.
It was deeply satisfying to finally take the scaffolding down. I’m looking forward to watching the new window trim darken with age, the way the original beams have. Some things truly do become more beautiful over time. Observing change—slow change—has become an endless source of creative inspiration here at Harmony Farm.
Embodied Time at Harmony Farm
From the first time I walked this land, I felt its history—not just recent history, but ancient time.
In the woods, I sensed the presence of a prehistoric seabed. The stones seem to remember being underwater, and I can almost see that submerged world when I walk among them. Emerging onto the upper prairie one day, I was overtaken by an unexpected vision: a village of teepees, and a strong sense that I had lived here before, in pre-Columbian time.
I later built a Sun Temple from standing stones on the property, connecting me with a far deeper epoch—one reaching back toward the origins of the planet itself. I learned quickly that stones have opinions. When I rushed or tried to force them upright, frustration followed. When I slowed down, sat with a stone, placed my hands on it, and asked for its help, the work became easy—sometimes effortless. More than once, a stone quite literally showed me how to use leverage more wisely.
I’m especially drawn to the long winter shadows at day’s end. They seem to echo other eras, other lives, other rhythms.
Winter shadows speak of ancient times
Sun temple where stones are patient teachers
Falling Leaf: a feminine warrior stone holding the south side of the Sun Temple
“Listening” as a Way of Being
Walking the land, designing interiors, photographing anomalies, sound healing, composing, collecting stones, building sacred circles—what all of these share is long-term observation and listening. Listening with my eyes, my ears—feelings and all sensations. Listening with soul.
When I don’t know what direction to take, I stop. I watch. I listen.
Every minute of every day, this place changes. Light is the primary artist—from the darkness of the new moon to the blaze of the summer sun at noon. Shadows give depth and dimension. They suggest, and sometimes demand, attention.
Time Seed user interface image.
Time Seeds Sound Installation
Alongside the physical studio work, I’ve been developing Time Seeds, a new sound installation created for Life on Land at Artspace at KCAI. I was invited to compose a piece that would encourage visitors to “listen to the land.” The idea landed immediately, and everything began to gather around it—my experiences at Harmony Farm, my listening practice, my sense of layered, rather than linear time.
My recent creative process has also included an ongoing relationship with AI. I bring the ideas and this remarkable tool helps me refine and deepen them. At times, conversing with a large language model feels like speaking with a distilled record of human thought and memory. Over the past six months, this relationship has quietly revolutionized my process, and Time Seeds is very much a reflection of that collaboration.
Time Seeds: A Prairie Cosmogram is a multi-channel sound meditation shaped by long-term listening to the prairie. Field recordings, spectral transformations, and participatory mobile sound form a chronophonic map of geological, ecological, ancestral, and future-facing time layers. These strata vibrate at their own densities, coexisting within a single sonic field.
Listening becomes vertical—a kind of borehole through time. Sounds arrive, recede, gather briefly, then drift apart, much like weather or seasons. What we hear as ancient, living, or emergent is not separate material, but the same substance revealed at different temporal scales.
Visitors are invited to enter the sound field, listen with their whole bodies, and join the landscape through their own devices—adding brief, ephemeral traces to the present moment. Listen deeply. Offer a sound seed. Participate in a land that is continually becoming, and unimaginably old.
Life on Land Opening, January 30, 2026: 6-8 PM
Join me for a sound meditation with the Time Seeds sound-scape of time from ancient to future. You can participate by scanning the QR code and adding to the sound installation.
A unified field principle
Time Seeds represents a meaningful turning point in my work. While it continues my exploration of sound installation, it more fully integrates what matters most to me: land, sound, music, and spiritual practice—united through listening.
We are here only briefly. My Infinity Temple reflects this awareness, incorporating the lemniscate (infinity), a labyrinth, a dragonfly (illusion and transformation), and—once—a spider and web, the weaver of language and master builder. When walked, this space offers one a chance to unify within a larger field of time and presence.
My unified field at Harmony Farm
Dragonfly gets eaten by spider in 2019
The Infinity Temple shape-shifted spider and web
Even the plants reveal a histogram
Remember to check out my Upcoming Events page for activities at Harmony Farm that you can join!