Mj Pettengill

Unearthing and transmuting historical trauma and ancestral wounds is a way back to the light. The journey is beyond reflective.

Leave no stone unturned, as the right information may be tucked away in the wrong place.

I have a little studio in the woods. I love this space.

My instincts were to frown and wish away those pests, those greedy hoodlums. But then I realized that blue jays are not bad.

I finally owned up to the truth. My own will and desire created him in the wind.

I have unveiled harrowing scenes, imagining food that is not fit for pigs, and placed myself at the table.

There are many spiders here. I used to scream and break into a sweat when I saw the big ones. That was a long time ago. Being out in the...

I spend much time exploring dark places—places where we are typically unwelcome. There are no complaints here. I signed up for it. I made...

Facing fear in a rigged system while raising children—keeping them warm, fed, and sheltered—is downright perilous and unpredictable.

I longed for the time when God shined His candle about my head as in the days of my youth.

We continue to pass along the grief and pain of those before us, and in time, forget their origins. We inherit their losses.

I slid into the role of making the most incredible piccalilli east of the Mississippi River.

When we finally summon the courage to view our past, we may awaken from our troubled dreams.

I reached towards the wreckage of my whole existence.

The practice of auctioning the poor is a form of indentured servitude, a custom in this country that dates back to the first settlers...

You can be a strong force within yourself, family, and community without raising an angry fist.

Buried deep in the bones of the earth, in dusty, misplaced archives, and scribbled in faded, yellowed diaries, their stories exist.

There was light there, in the homeland of old stories, but not enough. I had been there too long.

Where was God when it happened?

Layers of rot and decay became raw—a rich scent of being—an invitation to pause and feel the silken grit all the way through to the bone.