Postcards from Rewilding: Winter Hibernates
𓁹‿𓁹 Issue 7: From Amazonian lilies to weaving spells, now with sonics & prints
Dearest wildings,
There’s something special that happens in the northern hemisphere when the winter solstice invites the distant chime of reflection from places deep within, those wisdoms which remain out of sight in more verdant times of year - long roots nestled under the surface, spores growing in deep time, gongs which ring only for certain ears at night.
In the meantime, our rage at the fallacy of world leaders who savage protections on old-growth forests, biodiversity and species livelihoods is warmed by our knowledge that exhibits like Fungi: Anarchist Designers also live in this tender world (thanks Nieuwe Instituut!), and that grandiose beings like this Amazonian water lily (victoria amazonica / Iaupê-Jaçanã / atun sisac) continue to unfurl too, reminding us that nature is the master engineer. As the great Robin Wall Kimmerer puts it, when we remember that we too are nature, “there is no boundary between the sacred and the mundane.”
༄ؘ And now, here are winter’s postcards from rewilding, wrapped across the many worlds of our contributors with tender care. We invite you to open 💎this gallery💎 to hold alongside as you read, with high-res versions of all images not pictured here.
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
This winter, I took refuge in the eternal spring of Guatemalan volcano Acatenango and Lake Atitlán. I surrendered my soul to restless lightning, to lava breaking open the dark, to wind and stars, and to many plant species I had never seen before. ༄ؘ In the coming year, I will continue navigating life’s uncertainties as an immigrant, while holding close the restless lightning, the bursts of lava, the wind and stars, and species unknown. - Gaoli
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
Lately, I find myself sitting with a sense of unease about the world: its pace, its fractures. This has led me to reconsider what I ask of art and curating right now. I am drawn to practices that let me stay with complexity without becoming numb. I often think about how art exists within larger social, political, and economic systems, and how those systems shape what becomes visible and valued. ༄ؘ Moving forward, I want my practice guided by attentiveness, supporting voices that move carefully, resist spectacle, and enact small but meaningful change. - Carmen
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
The Tule fog of the Central Valley of California has shrouded the sun for months, but the plants continued to photosynthesize. ༄ؘ Then came the rain to nourish the soil, reminding me that everything moves in cycles and there is always hope that the fog will lift to reveal another chapter of life. Going back to school has been one of the best decisions I ever made. - Gayu
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
As winter draws near, I withdraw from gazes far and near. Tucked in, puckered up, inspired by rebellious voices that challenge injustice. Resting while reflecting on my connection to unrest. ༄ؘ Closing cycles signifies nascence, re-birth of a singular source. - Michael, listening to Ziad Rahbani, with Image B 💎
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
I have stayed silent through the long wintry season, learning the hopes and tropes of transformative justice in practice. ༄ؘ I wish to keep wandering with myself and kin, weaving accountability with care, rewilding small practices of repair that do not depend on promises, but on presence. - Jaz, with Image C 💎
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
What is ending: After a period of emergence, rest: in a sauna with a window over the beach, running to the tidal pool to rinse off, the sun drawing down. ༄ؘ What is to come: After a period of rest, more emergence: steering into things, a star map with multiple constellations, an uncertain shape to be formed. - Georg, with Image D 💎
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
These are the words I could express the most honestly for my picture of transition into states - please feel very invited to translate them into English to walk with me there: Letztes Jahr war eines - wie schon die sechsunddreißig Jahre zuvor - gleich: der Ursprung von Tränen. Gleich bleibt er auch dieses Jahr, das Nächste, das Nächste, und das Nächste nach dem Nächsten. Zwei Worte wie Augen, aus denen sie strömen, lösen wie Wasser das Leid und nähren die jungen Blüten, die aus tränenden Erinnerungen entstehen. ༄ؘ Let them. - Susi
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
I’ve been moving through a year that brought me more happiness than I’ve known in a while, and now I’m trying to identify all the ingredients that made it like that, and put them on my grocery list for next year. ༄ؘ This winter I am planning to re-connect with old friends, solving old puzzles and petting a lot of dogs. - Emanuel, with Image F 💎
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
This autumn felt like the lunar year of the snake continued to unfold - letting go and new beginnings! 🐍 with my public data cultures book finally having a life of its own, a special gathering in berlin on regenerative data, a cosy celebration in London, exploring collective infrastructures and growing group care, enjoying squashes from our allotment and walking with friends. ༄ؘ The snow has been a special way to start 2026 - with the softness, quietness and gentle transformations of the familiar that it brings - and i hope to bring some of this spirit into the months ahead with studio time and some new threads. ❄️💜🧶 - Jonathan
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
This season I failed in practising unfulfillable tasks, a lack of energy at the end, causing a curved reality. ༄ؘ I reactivated an old experimental way of analysis: “weaving spells” ~ to invent a spell for neutralising, enforcing or banning a problem ~ which means to analyse structure whilst analysing how one behaves at the same time, causing a deeper (inner) view, to detect invisible circumstances. - Lexxe, w/ Image G 💎
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
As the snake year ends, we are all shedding skin. Winter has been time for exploring the wild coasts of the Azores, quieting voices of doubt, choosing to embrace chaos, chase waterfalls and dream of a life less encumbered by the linear path that capitalism demands of us. The world is waking up to the cracks of that delusion, reminding us that resilience doesn’t lie in external institutions but rather in deepening community and collective action. ༄ؘ This year, we wake up and our dreams are no longer imaginary, but rather something we cultivate with intention and shared resources. Our survival may indeed depend on it. - Mauree
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
This winter has been a teacher in exploring snowy forest floors in all weathers, with soft-paw wolfpacks of interspecies stewardship - learning hibernation wisdoms from ancient times, and healing the wildish creation-spirit that had gone fallow. ༄ؘ As the year of the fire-horse beckons and the sssnake sheds its last skins, there is a half-marathon to train for in a favourite city, spicy schemings to brew across late-night cauldrons with dear kindreds, and many a zen haiku yet to build. 🐍🐍🐍 - Kitkat
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
Greeting: boulders, reading lists, naive animation, cymbals, playfully campaigning for False Creek. ༄ؘ Fleeting: atrophy of wonder, saviour syndrome, expectations. - Mendel
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
Ending: Completing a documentary film about multispecies justice that, alongside my studies, required a lot last year - and alongside this, the letting go of a mono-dimensional sense-of-self constrained by container labels of ‘creative’ and ‘filmmaker’. ༄ؘ Beginning: An expansion of my services to (and within) the world as a ‘creative’ to include reckonings with complexity in efforts to help encourage systems conducive to a livable planet; a wider and more Panoramic remit on my role as a human. - Tristan
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
I have been watching the year turn with relief.
༄ؘ I am planning a secret life, secret even from me at this point. - Ann
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
𖧧 A 3m tall spindly reed-like insect called the Insulindian Phasmid told me it is the relatively median lifeforms like itself that hold the world’s wisdom and peaceful endurance; on the contrary, it is the volatile simian nervous system, new to the planet, that will ‘destroy us all.’ 𖧧 ༄ؘ I will try to live 2026 and the rest of my life like my late bengal, Keido: Curious explorer, loyal and loving, new friend collector, gentle yet assertive, smart yet gracious with foe, always open to new adventures, in nature as much as possible, living in the moment. - Zjeau Ciel
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
🌖🌖🌖 Wild Thickets sonics 🌖🌖🌖
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 And now a gift for you, dear readers: Three nourishing mosaics of sound which reflect the season. To be offered with each issue, gathered like winter berries, by paws who dig deep ˙⊹
M1n Hashikō (🐸): BLOOMLOOPS 011 | Lynne |||| An experimental piece by Japan’s Lynne, triggering an eerie curiosity. Does a good job in putting 🐸 into an introspective mood. ༄
M1n Ren (🌊): Page 166: Caldera |||| London producer & DJ “Caldera” takes us on a multidirection journey ~ trippy, deep, complex grooves, several different emotions … just perfect for an afternoon spent in a living room. ༄
M1n Kïtsūne (👹): 𝙡𝙞𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙙𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 #16 ft Cousin: Babbling Brook |||| A lush ambient-dub weaving from a new favourite maestro via Australia. Like the moss on its cover, this one grows slowly over time, creeping ever-outward in organic, tribal rhythms. ༄
˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖° . 𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.𖧧 ݁˖ ˖ °. * :･ ༄ ˖°
As the season turns, we are finally growing Wild Thickets into print terrains 📬 ~ including an annual zine, sent by snailmail to all paid subscribers (consider adding your extra pennies to the commons here), and a ✨sticker✨ in the press, inspired by this elegant entity whom we fell in love with whilst dancing in Norway. ༄ؘ Their many names include reindeer cup lichen, cladonia rangiferina in the latin, ty’-lambejrakha-njada by the Nenets people of the Yamal Peninsula, and guhkkajeagil by the Sámi people of Northern Europe, where they are often found in alpine tundra. ༄
And last but not least, we have now opened the comments section below, and would love to see your thoughts and/or ❥s if you enjoyed these words, have something to add, or would like us to send you a sticker in the mail. Let’s start the conversation. 🌀
As we part ways, we leave you with this wisdom by Holly Haworth for your own transitions. “Immersing ourselves in the seasons, writing them down, is a way of telling an old circling story we need to hear - that everything will circle back to us, that there are no closed systems […] This is the primary story of ecology, a story that insists upon the circles.”
See you in the comments, on the land, and in our collective dreamings, dear wildings ~
Love, 𓁹‿𓁹
