I’ve always been terrible with introductions. With every first day of school, came the dreaded: Tell us a little about yourself. I was the poor kid who rehearsed her “speech” as each passing desk pronounced their name and their favorite things, until it was my turn, and I (instead) blurted out word-vomit.
“Hi, I’m Brianna. My best friend is our dog. I like books and hammocks and catfish whiskers. And days when the sun is out but it still rains.”
When I was twelve, that particular speech was the equivalent of eternal embarrassment (albeit strangely poetic). I didn’t go to the mall for fun or take summer vacations to the beach. Weekend trips for me involved a john-boat, a bag of Doritos, and Dad’s steady voice explaining river currents. The weather intrigued me. I cried for two days when Sirius died. I was interested in things which weren’t cool.
Looking back, I can finally accept that word vomit for what it was: the truth.
I was a curious child, growing up in a town of less than 1500, with a younger brother and wooded acres to explore. The company of animals was preferred. Mom, more often than not, had to tell me to ‘put the book away and go to sleep.’ There were hay bales to conquer, creeks to wade, walkie-talkie pigeon hunts with BB guns (trust me, we never even got close), and bugs to catch.
Turns out, I’ve managed to hold onto most of my curiosity as an adult. I still prefer the company of animals and stay up too late with books in my lap. I don’t harass pigeons anymore, unless it’s with a camera, and butterflies continue to fascinate me. My younger brother remains my favorite adventure buddy, though now there’s beer involved, not Hawaiian Punch.
Living in the river bottoms, the ever-changing mood of the Chariton is a sanctuary of sorts. It is there I can pen the correspondingly ever-changing words of my own heart, like burrs in my veins or velvet over skin, and needing release.
That’s what Faith + Fern is all about. The words, the ink, the pages, and the ache. The gardening, the blooming, the rain, the wind, and the whistle of a Northern pintail drake.
I’m so glad you’re here. Take with you what you like, both inside the words and out. On Faith + Fern, you’ll find:
Truth be told, I’d love it even more to hear from you, whether that be if something touches you or infuriates you. Send any recommendations my way or simply let me know you were here.
Email me at: firstname.lastname@example.org
Instagram :: @faithandfern