Seán's head and upper torso inside of a diamond shape

Seán Krow (n.)

h: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Human, being
An image of Seán at one year old, riding a small red tricycle received for Christmas
Still from a home video of me exploring le lalolagi at age one, filmed by my dad

I consider myself first and foremost to be a human being (hominid, eukaryote), and secondly a confluent in/dividual.  Loʻu olaga is the result of deep histories and complex processes that I will only ever scratch the surface of understanding, and lo'u fa'asinomaga has been formed by an interconnected web of relationships and tala (few of which I will ever recognize).

My roots extend around le lalolagi — ancestrally from Upolu to alĭ ṣonak & Africa to Eurasia, and culturally in all other directions — drawing upon myriad perspectives and tala across generations, sami, and values systems.  From this vantage point, I resonate most strongly with the continual transformations that lo'u tuaā and their communities experienced as they navigated complicated circumstances and vast unknowns.

A crow encircled by patterns
Self-location exercise, linocut, 02018

In terms of my personal migratory route, I was born in the Sonoran Desert at the base of the black hill (south Cuk Ṣon), but have lived in Cascadia (near Seattle) for most of loʻu olaga.  Now I'm living at the northern tip of the Crescent terrane of Siletzia, in a town named after a dead tafolā rotting on a beach (Metchosin).

Over the course of this geotemporal malaga, I've become increasingly drawn to exploring the mutability, diversity, and complexity of human experiences across tā, as well as the nature of our relationships with our selves, each other, & the vā that connects us (both off- and online).  These interests inform my personal & agafesoʻotaʻi navigation, as well as my approach to self-expression.

A diagonally-oriented swirl of colors

Through discovering countless ways of interpreting and being in le lalolagi, I've come to embrace uncertainty, curiosity, and aga'alofa as vessels for personal growth and greater collective wellbeing.  As such, I also resist ideological frameworks rooted in dogmatism, groupthink, and intolerance.

To learn a bit more about me & various elements of this site, view the source code of this page (typically, Option+⌘+U, ⌘+U, or Ctrl+U).

i: ~~~~~~~~ Introspective explorer
A human figure encircled by crows
Untitled, charcoal, lint, paint, fly, 02018

In 02018, I took an Indigenous Studio Art course at Camosun College with Hjalmer Wenstob alongside Traditional Printmaking with Brenda Petays and Anthropology of Death with Nicole Kilburn which, in combination, sparked an exploration of selfhood, heritage, and mortality through playful, reverent artmaking.  Having struggled with depression and anxiety for most of loʻu olaga, contemplating these topics and reinterpreting my personal mythology through writing & art has been extremely therapeutic.

A black and white diamond of mysterious shapes
Shade, lino-papercut print, 02018

I believe that creativity in general is an extremely powerful means of not only gaining a deeper understanding of our personal experiences, but also of transcending sociocultural and political divides by summoning shared aspects of our collective humanity. Through artistic expression, I seek to explore olaga as an enchanted process that we all share.

A figure surrounded by more mysterious shapes
Untitled, screenprint, 02018

Furthermore, as loʻu olaga has become ever more deeply intertwined with digitality, I've increasingly approached this realm as a ritual space for self-exploration through evocation and reflection.  Over the past several years, I've been experimenting with ways of mapping my memories and distributed personhood in a more fluid, meaningful way online — both for my own contemplative purposes and that of other curious explorers, as well as in preparation for my inevitable digital oti & afterlife.

You can visit the main entrance for these manifestations here.

a: ~~~~~~~~~~ Ancestral archivist
An old-time photo of a dapper gentleman in a bowler hat and suit sitting in a chair
I'm learning to be a more mindful descendant and a more caring tuaā

As I've grown older, I've come to strongly value reflecting upon historical context and forward-thinking perspectives for navigating present circumstances — both on a societal and personal level.  And while unpacking and exploring my memories over the years, I've increasingly gravitated toward grounding loʻu olaga within the cycle of family tala, traditions, and relationships that have formed and nurtured me.  These histories and experiences are not only powerful guiding beacons for my journey in olaga, but are also intricately woven within my very personhood — whether I consciously notice them or not.

A hand holds a seashell necklace and a stamp from several decades ago in Samoa
Measina a le 'āiga bring me into closer dialogue with my tua'a, and remind me of the journeys that brought me here

Recognizing these truths, I spend much of my tā in dialogue with both my living and deceased 'āiga — through tala, traditions, measina, and recordings that I have now spent many years recovering and archiving in collaboration with my uso.

I trace, revisit, and reinterpret these intricate histories both as a means of honouring & reckoning with my roots, as well as rooting myself in lessons from le lalolagi beyond this screen.  And by adding my own voice and contours to this ancestral map, hope to offer guidance to those who will navigate hazy, disorienting tā-vā beyond my horizon (such as my recently born tama tama a lo'u tuafafine).

A big pot full of tamales
My late tinā o lo'u tamā taught me how to make tamales. I hear her smiling voice when I continue this tradition

I yearn to celebrate some of these ancestral legacies publicly in various forms beyond my personal circle, but also strive to balance open sharing with privacy & sanctity.  As a result, they primarily appear online in fragments and peripheral shadows in spaces such as my experimental personal blog (and embedded within the source code of spaces like this).

A spread of datebooks from 01987 to 02013
I recently finished transcribing the daily notes from the last 26 years of le tamā o lo'u tamā's life (with no phone, TV, or Internet) before he died of Alzheimer's
p: ~~~~~~ Pule o le faletusi o le oti
A mysterious dark figure standing next to trees
Visitor, drypoint engraving, 02019

During a five-year period of loʻu olaga, five members of my 'āiga died and I began experiencing an undiagnosed invisible chronic illness.  This confluence led me to completely reconfigure and uproot loʻu olaga, and to contemplate death and heritage in a deeper way than ever before.  I also began to read about the myriad ways in which people & cultures approach mortality, and to initiate talanoaga about death with as many people as possible.

An intricately-patterned copper thumb sparkling through black wax
Ruins, copper etching plate, 02019

Through these experiences, I came to realize how disconnected so many of us have become from preparing for, understanding, and coping with death.  This eventually culminated in taking an Anthropology of Death course with Nicole Kilburn that greatly expanded my awareness about how incredibly multifaceted death is, and exposed me to many ways in which people around le lalolagi have approached mortality throughout history.  Nicole's class was ultimately one of the most spiritually & emotionally wholesome, intellectually stimulating, and impactful learning experiences that I've ever had.

Close-up of a food offering menu for the dead
Hátap, a menu for the afterlife, 02019

Now, in addition to working through my own popole i le oti and grief, I'm developing a set of resources for helping people approach mortality and navigate loss more bravely and mindfully.  In the process, I'm becoming more death literate myself, guiding loved ones through these topics, and learning to plan for my own oti in an empowered way.

A set of black rectangles aligned inward & outward
Door, mokuhanga print, 02019
e: ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ecotone steward
A hummingbird chiseled into a small wood block and printed
Hummingbird, mokuhanga print, 02020

After le tamā o lo'u tinā died in 02015, I became entrenched in a harrowing two-year family feud over whether to keep or sell the fale that he designed & built for our 'aiga over the course of three decades.  A lifelong explorer, naturalist, and Indigenous rights advocate, he was also a masterful gardener and ecological steward, and considered the fanua upon which he lived a third of his olaga to be sacred.  As a child, I was completely enchanted by his home, olaga, and spirit, and grew extremely close to him into my adulthood.  I eventually moved to Metchosin in 02017 in order to honour his legacy and to prevent the home from being sold, while concurrently reflecting upon my own journey to le motu.

A small watercolour painting of a bee resting on an oak leaf held above real oak leaves
A Bumble Bee Rests in the Sun, little watercolour painting, 02020

I now strive to connect more deeply to the home that surrounds and nurtures me through stewardship, observation, writing, and art.  Furthermore, as my roots have grown deeper here and become intertwined with those of my partner Kate, I have been developing an ecologically-oriented creative practice with her called Hummingcrow & Co.  This endeavour empowers us to learn/grow together artistically while highlighting the power and importance of environmental connection & stewardship.  Through these efforts we are channeling le tamā o lo'u tinā's spirit and linking up with adjacent community projects.

You can follow along with our discoveries and musings here, and explore our shared research here.

A pie with an apple-carved deer resting in the center
Apple pie for Metchosin Day, 02018

While being home-bound during the pandemic, we've also begun making virtual trips to other regions of le lalolagi to relieve our zugunruhe.  Our first journey was not only a fun experiment in creative exploration and digital wayfinding, but also an enriching opportunity to learn about other ecosystems and cultural frameworks.  You can learn more about this trip here.

A jungle crow in a colorful nest
「ハシブトガラス」, digital illustration, 02020
s: ~~~~~~~~~~ Solarpunk tinkerer

I've been enchanted by both nature and tekinolosi for as long as I can remember, and have come to believe that approaching natural and digital environments with a sense of wonder & critical curiosity fosters personal growth and collective expansion.  I also strongly believe that we need to develop technologies that are less ecologically extractive, more human-friendly & transparent, and—frankly—more fun to use.

Currently exploring the command line & tinkering with low-power computing using a Raspberry Pi and a fanless Ubuntu PC

This has led me to become involved in the solarpunk community - a growing network of people who are imagining and building toward a positive future that seeks a symbiotic balance between technological empowerment, ecological sustainability, and collective resilience through collaborative learning, exploration, and experimentation.

I have no formal tech background myself, but am co-manifesting this future through writing & art while also becoming more tech autonomous thanks, in large part, to solarpunks that I've met in The Scuttleverse.

To learn more about the solarpunk ethos, I highly recommend this modular essay by Zach Mandeville, this wonderful talk by Pawel Ngei, and this manifesto which does a great job summarizing the evolving nature of the movement. Hermies dancing

An ASCII flower growing in a palegreen scene
p.s. I'm also a member of Sunday Sites. You can view my first creation here.

Some inspiring people in my orbit:

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