On The Hierarchy Of CloudsOn Cities That Steer Themselves
Tracing the lines of grief, care and collective power through Mexico City’s cycling transformation
On The Hierarchy Of CloudsBefore we plant anything
A few questions to see if trust is already here
On The Hierarchy Of CloudsLife Notes 2: Losing, choosing, and moving anyway
And somewhere along the way, I stepped off the expected path (though I don’t even know if I was following it)
On the Hierarchy of Clouds is a space for exploring the structures — seen and unseen — that shape our lives. It’s about systems, governance, and the slow work of change. About how we build, break, and reimagine the institutions around us.
On The Hierarchy Of CloudsOn Cities That Steer Themselves
Tracing the lines of grief, care and collective power through Mexico City’s cycling transformation
On The Hierarchy Of CloudsBefore we plant anything
A few questions to see if trust is already here
On The Hierarchy Of CloudsLife Notes 2: Losing, choosing, and moving anyway
And somewhere along the way, I stepped off the expected path (though I don’t even know if I was following it)
On the Hierarchy of Clouds is a space for exploring the structures — seen and unseen — that shape our lives. It’s about systems, governance, and the slow work of change. About how we build, break, and reimagine the institutions around us.
Subscribe to On The Hierarchy Of Clouds
Subscribe to On The Hierarchy Of Clouds
Share Dialog
Share Dialog
<100 subscribers
<100 subscribers
This started with a conversation in Mexico City.
We were on a rooftop, looking across the city. It was late afternoon and the sun was hitting the tops of buildings like an invitation. So much flat space. So much potential. So many stories that hadn’t started yet.
We talked about food. About commons. About how power flows in subtle ways; who holds the hose, who makes the rules and who quietly stops showing up.
And I kept thinking: What can a rooftop garden teach us about care, power, and collective life?
This zine is what came out of that.
It’s called Above Us Only Soil, and it’s part reflection, part system map, part visual storytelling.
The cloud-headed figures were fun to create and feel like mine. Born from my love of clouds, of softness, of shape-shifting identities that hold both mystery and emotion. They don’t explain anything. They just exist, like all of us, trying to grow something under a strange sun.
I wanted the characters to feel a little off. A little stretched. Like they’re in a world that’s both sketchbook and city. Because that’s where I feel like we are.
It’s about rooftop farms, sure. But it’s really about the systems we try to grow, the cracks that form, and the small rituals of holding things together.
You can read it / buy it here. (If you want to support me with a few bucks)
Make it yours, thanks for reading.
This started with a conversation in Mexico City.
We were on a rooftop, looking across the city. It was late afternoon and the sun was hitting the tops of buildings like an invitation. So much flat space. So much potential. So many stories that hadn’t started yet.
We talked about food. About commons. About how power flows in subtle ways; who holds the hose, who makes the rules and who quietly stops showing up.
And I kept thinking: What can a rooftop garden teach us about care, power, and collective life?
This zine is what came out of that.
It’s called Above Us Only Soil, and it’s part reflection, part system map, part visual storytelling.
The cloud-headed figures were fun to create and feel like mine. Born from my love of clouds, of softness, of shape-shifting identities that hold both mystery and emotion. They don’t explain anything. They just exist, like all of us, trying to grow something under a strange sun.
I wanted the characters to feel a little off. A little stretched. Like they’re in a world that’s both sketchbook and city. Because that’s where I feel like we are.
It’s about rooftop farms, sure. But it’s really about the systems we try to grow, the cracks that form, and the small rituals of holding things together.
You can read it / buy it here. (If you want to support me with a few bucks)
Make it yours, thanks for reading.
No activity yet