Can a place we’ve never been shape our fate? Can discovering it unravel, stitch by stitch, the life we’ve known?

This is where I stitch together the journey of remaking a life through art, travel, Morocco and finding a home

  • Homecoming

    Homecoming

    June 1 It’s strange. I walk around this apartment as if I’ve already lived here. Or as if a future version of me sent images back to me, and I know it already, so I feel at home in a way I can’t describe. Like I’ve always known this place. This morning I took pictures…

  • Loose Threads: dunes

    Loose Threads: dunes

    April 2026 Sitting in the dunes at sunset as the world gets painted….blanketed with the same hue…overlaying each existing color and transforming it. Unifying it all under the same palette. As I look out over the vast ocean of sand, I think often of the Little Prince and his need for a drawing of a…

  • “Lost” in the desert

    “Lost” in the desert

    Written in the desert house, April 2026 I’ve lost days. I looked at the map, maybe it was in Italian, and now I’ve confused when is when. I’m losing needing to know. I am so outside of time. It is measured in wind bursts, sunsets, loved ones’ days off and their increased presence. I sat…

  • Loose Threads: pears

    Loose Threads: pears

    Eating pears every day here in my little house in the middle of the desert…so it becomes a taste of a time, of a chapter. Biting into a slice as I’m standing at the window watching the wind dance across the dunes. The flavor floods and coats my mouth with a subtle hint of grainy…

  • Inchallah Lessons

    Inchallah Lessons

    Inchallah is a word that seems to mean a hundred different things. Depending on the situation, who is saying it, your relationship to them, and the tone of voice…it can mean something completely different. If you ask directly, a Moroccan will tell you it means that if God wants something to happen, it will happen.…

  • Loose Threads: full moon

    Loose Threads: full moon

    I will remember this night for the rest of my life. Sitting on my patio. Full moon. Trees dancing in the breeze. Something unseen, crunching and munching in the bushes. Frogs serenading the river. The men playing drums and singing to the moon and the stars and the sky and each other on the dune.…

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Julie Scott

Artist and Writer