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: : The Gift of Grist- not to be missed

Those of us that were reared in the mountains of North Carolina might hear the term ‘grist for the mill’ and have very literal representations spring to mind for meaning on that. The Old Hampton Store and Grist Mill c 1921 is at the base of Grandfather Mountain and a spot I hold in my memory, perhaps in part because of its generative presence and importance to the survival of earlier mountain communities.

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Julia Horn
: : Par amor.

The only thing more powerful than the heartbreak of the futility of reality is a mind’s ability to prevent us from feeling it. Whole religions, philosophies, and dreamscapes have been created to prevent an awareness of the depths of this notion.

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Julia Horn
: : L and o and v and e

Cosmic velcro, goosebump gobbledeegooop, warm pancake vortex, feral fox devotion, nebula cuddle, whale song slippers… however it is that you experience this wild thing of lava love, let’s talk.

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Julia Horn
: : : brave enough

The answers to environmental distress lie in something deeper than strategy. It is in becoming wildflower, storm and sea.

The answers to social polarity and relational schism arise when we dive into the shadowy origin story and then cradle splintering wounds from the dawn of life. Or wherever fractures appeared on the lifeline.

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Julia Horn
: : MirrorMirror part 3

: : mirrormirror part 3 ~
aka Attachment Wounding Repair
(1 & 2 found on insta)

(spoken with masculine/feminine man/woman speak but these dynamics exist in many forms and expressions. Stillpoint wave. Alpha omega. Sun moon. Yin yang. Island wave. Anima animus.
Within one. Between two--> Do you)

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Julia Horn
: : : packing and unpacking ~ some thoughts on the Mosaicly Minded

I am packing to leave on a plane and unpacking some of life’s experience, namely conflict and how to work with what we see out there.

Missing Missives Part 2 - taken from a series of letters to my dad ~

When I got back from Mexico last November, I was hiking one of my favorite trails when I came across a mother and son hiking in the opposite direction. The young man had a very old-timey camera which was quite an instrument and I couldn’t help but inquire into it.

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Julia Horn
The Missing Missives ~


What started out as a series of letters, thoughts and sentiments of deep missing of the presence of my dad turned into a lot of pages of a lot of words.. Conversations with my late father has become a long and windy tale of topics I know he would have taken a huge interest in and has helped me really look at who he was, what it is to miss, and the new relationship that we now have.

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Julia Horn
: : v e r n a l v i s i o n

This picture captures the promise of the best smelling lilac in the greater town of Boulder- and i can tell you with assurance- i’ve smell tested them all!

This hound nose is to a lilac what a sommelier’s tongue is to a glass of Barolo :)

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Julia Horn
: : : A Love Letter for You- There’s still time~ Xoxo

A Love Letter for You~

If I could fold this up the way we used to do in 5th grade, you better believe that I would.

I hope this digital, not nearly as romantic, correspondence will suffice.

I have always been enamored with l’amour. But who hasn’t? On some level and in some way? Even if they didn’t know it? Our whole existence was incumbent upon the magnetism and conjunction of 2 things and creating something else entirely.

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Julia Horn
Dispatch from the Inner Corridors : : : Wrapped in Peace

Happy almost Valentines, Friends ~

I hope everyone is thriving, learning and loving inside the infancy of the year.

When I was in elementary school, a few friends and I created a club we called the Kingdom of Peace. The kingdom itself was on the backside of a pond at a campsite right on the Blue Ridge Parkway. It was magical. We would take canoes out across the pond and sit on our stump thrones and take care of all that needed tending to and during the school week even had a secret newsletter we would

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Julia Horn
: : : What tumbles through in the night + 2024 schedule is out ~

Hello beautiful people~

Over a week ago I had a dream that lingers even still. Every now and then I will have a dream that is so vivid, it feels i’m living inside of it for a while- like a bubble inside my waking life. The first part of the dream was a train ride that seemed to be moving about in the lap of luxury. The conductor arranged it so that I could join the excursion, and off we went- delectable food with a private chef, stopping off at little islands delicately wrapped in mist, and with a group of people with whom I had all sorts of scintillating conversation.

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Julia Horn
: : : The Queen of Inner~ plus a circle and a story drop ~

The Beauty that is the Mexican Mural ~

( … Part 2 will tell you why & wherefore the Q of I )

It has been hard for me to begin to formulate thoughts much less coherent sentences these days. Somehow today, things started to come together. I will divide them in half to give you- and me- a little breather.

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Julia Horn
Hearts still aflutter ~

And now, something I am very excited about.

✨ Nourished to the Bone ✨
A retreat for women to find deep rest, refined replenishment, and soul level restoration through yoga, food, gifts from the earth, sisterhood & meditation.

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Julia Horn