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henry-hank · 7 months
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Garlic at Growing Places - Indianapolis IN 2023
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henry-hank · 8 months
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Neat mushrooms - 2023 somewhere in Crawfordsville IN
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henry-hank · 8 months
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Yellow tomatoes - Growing Places Indy 2023
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henry-hank · 9 months
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White mushroom on a hike - 2023
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henry-hank · 9 months
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Red chanterelles on a hike - 2023
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henry-hank · 9 months
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Handsome bug in the garden - 2023 Growing Places Indianapolis IN
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henry-hank · 9 months
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Cicada molting on the sidewalk - 2023 Indianapolis IN
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henry-hank · 9 months
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Living Roots Farm,
My month of June was consumed by you. A period of highs and lows, commitments and reevaluations. I expected strange and I try to go in with few expectations. I wanted structure and in a sense I got that. But so much else was falsely advertised. You were not an arts space, intentional community, healing arts center, or even a farm school. Was I naïve to believe such claims from skimming a website and a single conversation with a man. A man whose business depends on the free labor of well meaning 20 somethings. I love farming. I love the satisfaction of growing one’s own food, getting my hands in the dirt. Feeling the stings and aches of hard work. That’s what I wanted to return to. But that’s not what I felt here. I saw a place built on conflicting principles. Values of intentional community and social change clashing with a corporate structure. I felt the confusion of my fellow apprentices who all in their own way wanted to leave, felt duped, exploited, frustrated. The division of labor was far from equitable. One man’s ego, under the guise of experience, trumping anyone else’s input. The support this community of apprentices and workers had for each other was astounding. I wanted to be a part of that. Who wouldn’t? I was so ready to commit. I said goodbye to the comfort of my transient home life. I was ready to commit to long distance with my partner. Ready to make the hard choice. But in two weeks I realized I didn’t want to. Not a matter of “could I” anymore, I knew I could. But so much had changed in the time between the plans being made and their fruition. So I made the other hard choice: to quit. And I told myself I value that. Knowing when to quit. Knowing when you’re boundaries are not being respected. But maybe that’s just what I’m telling myself. Who knows? One can’t expect to embrace situations the same way year to year. In the end I feel vindicated in my values. In the reasons I love farming and good food. Producing for my own self sufficiency and sharing with those I care about. In the reasons and ways I care about my community. I believe that change happens locally. That backyard farms and community gardens do more to challenge food scarcity and how people think about food than production farming in the sticks ever could. You are a conundrum, Living Roots. So much potential but so much wrong fundamentally. I am glad I tried you and I do not regret leaving. 
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henry-hank · 10 months
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Old matchbox -> Jewelry box - 2023
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henry-hank · 10 months
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Is that dust on my glasses or is it trip residuals - photo taken (in West Townshend VT) and mildly glitched in 2022 by me
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henry-hank · 10 months
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Sticky note doodles on the farm house wall - 2023 French Lick IN
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henry-hank · 10 months
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Doodle on an address label with some markers I had lying around- 2023
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henry-hank · 10 months
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Self portrait - 2023
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henry-hank · 10 months
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Some doodles - 2023
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henry-hank · 10 months
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Barn cats at golden hour - 2023 living roots farm
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henry-hank · 10 months
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Front porch flower (Allen is gone) - 2023 Living Roots Farm
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henry-hank · 10 months
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Baby birds a few days apart - 2023 living roots farm
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