It's the Year of the Fire Horse, and by god, I couldn't wait for the clock to strike midnight on the 16th. The Year of the Snake - shed off! - is complete.
It's been a pretty unglamorous time as you all know, but here we are (and here I am!) and I'm feeling like the transformation's nearly concluded. But good lord, it's been the whole nine yards and more.
Streaming tears into my morning MudWtr (delicious with TJ's oat creamer).
Wonderfully inopportune moments of irritability (and no, not just in the congested TJ's parking lot).
Starting new projects and second guessing it all.
Through all this fuckery, though, I think I've finally "found neutral" (the riding metaphors will never end, because c'mon - they work perfectly, amirite?) or at least, it's getting more and more consistently my baseline.
And so, I think there's truth to the Year of the Snake shedding idea. And maybe the ol' Universe was poking some fun two weeks ago while I stood in the back patio monitoring a standard hairball expulsion via Louie (starts with fur, ends with bile -better done outside). After feline stomach acid settled, he began curiously sniffing around a particular area of trellis and vine - not super unusual - but I soon realized why that particular area. Before he attempted to ingest another vomit-inducing leaf, I reached out to gently pick him up and caught a flash of black and yellow in the mix of leaf and vine.
"Oh, hello there!" I greeted a tiny and presumably young California kingsnake. We had a few words while I tried taking what are arguably the poorest shots of a snake trying to hide. But, I salvaged one before leaving him in peace.
Coincidentally, this unfolded in between the first filming days of a new documentary project, working title: The Ark. This story arrived the way solid ones often do - the culmination of a year spent circling related work without a clear vision, until a text from APS Investigator Lisa Schrope over the holidays quietly brought it into focus.
Field footage from ongoing documentation - a little of who I've been meeting and what I've been seeing.
Since early January, I've been embedded with Pima County's Animal Protection Services (APS) following animal hoarding investigations as they move through the system. These investigations are now possible to pursue in the wake of the ARK - Animal Restoration Kennels - a temporary holding facility that now provides space, resources and stabilization for animals removed from these situations. So far, documentation has taken me on outreach property visits, owner surrender intakes, warrant and confiscation days and meet-ups with rescues - all within the Pima County jurisdiction.
Hoarding is not a simple subject and the work behind these cases is taxing on both sides of the species aisle. This complexity sits at the heart of this story, and why I want to follow it.
Clockwise from top left: A dog peers from beneath an overturned truck bed cover, a dog looks through a fence gate, a dog stands in a dilapidated house (she is later named Laverne), just-born neonate puppies huddle in a carrier. All images from an undisclosed hoarding property during a live impound. Pima County, Arizona. January 21, 2026.
Let me tell you, this is hard to document...
Both emotionally and technically, this work draws on everything fifteen years as a filmmaker and photographer have prepared me for behind the camera. It's observational, hand held, cinema verité - basically "run and gun" filmmaking in highly unpredictable conditions. From dark trailers and dimly lit bathrooms, bright noonday sun and fluorescent clinical lighting, moving transport trucks and quick-moving subjects in stressful moments, it's a challenge I relish and can't wait to be back to, even after a 14 hour day.
And...between a small stabilizer camera rig now and varied squat-necessary filming positions, there will be no need for a gym membership for some time. Yoga though, perhaps. :)
(From left to right): Chihuahuas during an owner surrender intake from a hoarding site and ready for a ride to the ARK. February 18, 2026. Pima County, Arizona.
So, what's the snake connection? Shedding old belief systems has meant saying no to jobs that historically kept the bank account afloat but now feel misaligned, and giving this project nearly all my focus and attention. Maybe Kevin was a tiny nod to this new direction, I can't say for sure, but I took it as a quiet signpost forward.
It's also struck me that in taking risks to be as available as I can be for this project, I'm actually betting on myself for once. It felt scary at first, but now it just feels totally right.
Last year was relationship building.
This year is storytelling.
This story means a lot to me, and the chance to witness this work up close and personally and be trusted and respected by everyone I have met so far (human and nonhuman), means everything.
I invite you to head over to the dedicated project page to learn more and support it as you’re able.
I'll be updating here more regularly and even more so on Instagram. In between, the painting world is very much coming into fruition. With that in mind, bears are on the horizon...Bruce, a bear of few words but galaxies of love, will be among the first watercolor Postcard Originals landing in the shop next month.
With that, I am off to the edit cave.
see you soon!
Molly
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