About me

This is a place in which I hope to share recipes and reflections, as I process and unfurl: medicine, time and the relationships within. I do this living on shared, unceded and occupied territories of Sḵwx̱wú7mesh, Səl̓ílwətaʔ/Selilwitulh and xʷməθkʷəy̓əm peoples. I make a commitment to the lands which I move in seasons with, which I am sustained by, and which I seek to tend in reciprocity and respect: to be in my own healing, to carry my gifts with pride, to redistribute my wealth.

In the last three winters, learning rest, I've made an effort to create spaces to emerge my own presence, as Sarah Comyn — as Time and Times. Woven protective shawls, accordion drone, plants grown and harvested to share, hides tanned, waters visited, tracks in the snow, berries and seeds, banners and beads in adornment and care. I hope to share more here, as I move under sun and moon.

I grew up in the Scottish Borders, on the river Tweed, by the Eildon hills. When I wake from dreaming, it is often in those rooms and fields I have been roaming: blooming heather, weeping willow, red clay. When I swim in the ocean, when I imagine myself seal-kin, and when I sing, I feel this connection most. I yearn yet.

My ancestry is predominantly Irish, with roots reaching back to Scotland through my family trees, and in the stories my Dad has told me again and again, of tapestries in old castles, buried hearts of kings, betrayal, greed, and spells of old language and song.

I learned ways of working with my hands from my Dad, how to light a fire, sharpen a hatchet, paddle a current, whittle and sew. I hold these hands before me now, I trace their lines, I am present in their depth.

I learned how to tend (european) honey bees from my mother, and I keep the practice while questioning balance. That they offer medicine in their being, I know. And that harm is done when I over extract from them, I know this too.

I learned how to grow my own medicine in the Downtown Eastside of so-called Vancouver. This community asked me to listen and taught me how to witness; to know when to step in and when to step back; to know what I was showing up with, name it, share it; and to hold my own ground as sacred, knowing what I too, need. I say their names as I write this, those who have passed who shared and fought and sang and imagined.

I dream of the liberation of all peoples oppressed by colonial forces of empire; all those trapped in the extractive violence of capitalism. I work towards this dream by supporting access to land, to grow food, tend medicine plants and practice relationship. I do this from a place of settler solidarity with Indigenous peoples. I do this to be a part of a movement that is dismantling white supremacy and building the liberatory future we all need to thrive. Free Palestine.