flexing my muscles.

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ecstasy and reverence.

“There is ecstasy in paying attention” – Anne Lammott


i have been using this hand-me-down phone for a couple of years now. this week, for the first time, i uploaded photos from it onto my computer. a couple years worth, a couple trips around the globe. the phone is old. the camera is weak. the pictures aren’t trying to be perfect. but the moments…ah, the moments…they are winners. every single one of them, top notch gold. i know. i was there.

anyway, why should i expect a tiny, cracked, pocket-sized machine to be able to really capture the way the sun set the late afternoon field on fire; or the wildness of the empty beach; or the perfection of my plate of food or the barely-still butterfly or the joy of your face?

isn’t the gorgeousness of this life all about having a beating heart and a conscious mind and a spirit that can be moved in ecstasy, in reverence? no machine can tell the story of what my eyes see, what my bones know. i take the pictures as souvenirs, postcards to remind me:

“i was there. that was real. i felt it all.”


santa parade - r. kennedy

bruce - r.kennedy


wheatley lane

simon - r.kennedy



farm - r.kennedy


sunken ship - r.kennedy

tarts - r.kennedy





bike - r.kennedy


photo credit: M.Bloom



there’s so much more where these came from.


norman + the guinea pigs

side show banner

sometimes our stories come back to find us.


setting up house

Eddy Creak + Blackbird Studio are pairing up and turning the soil on a new Artist-In-Residence initiative!
From September until December 2015, I will be setting up creative house in the Eddy Creak studio. Eddy Creak is a presentation space for artists of all makes and models  in Peterborough, ON.
What does this mean?
It means for 4 months I have a fully functioning creative space to spread out in and explore new ideas from. It gives me access to more tools + more resources, and makes me a part of a larger creative eco-system.
Much of the next months will unfold organically, but I do have a few specific goals and notions that I want to unpack, as well as working toward one (or two! or more!) exhibits of some sort or another.

I have grand plans to make few plans, other than explore and create and keep doing the work, inspired by a new space and the possibilities that dwell there.

This Creak + Bird love affair is just beginning…only time will tell what will unfold!
To celebrate the kick off of this autumn residency, we are throwing open the studio doors and hitch-hiking on the tails of the well-oiled machine that is the Kawartha Autumn Studio tour. On Saturday September 26 + Sunday September 27, from 10-5, we would love to celebrate this exciting collaboration with all you studio-touring ramblers!

Come and check out the studio, explore the works-in-progress, and talk to us. We would love to bring you in to what’s unfolding…
Studio Tour Hi-jack! @ Eddy Creak
September 26 + 27
10 – 5
Eddy Creak – 527 Parkhill Rd W
Peterborough, ON
(parking across the street in Jackson Park)

The Museum comes alive…

Museum - R. Kennedy

Museum 12 - R.kennedyMuseum 3-R.Kennedy


There were stories + typewriters + strangers + friends + cheese platters + children.

3 year old George showed up with his magnifying glass.

Memories were scribbled down on bits of paper and strung along a wall, becoming part of the exhibit.

Paper dolls were dressed.

Cards were played.

I felt a lot of love.

The museum felt alive.

It was everything I hoped it would be.

Thank you for showing up and sharing stories and supporting art.


In all the pleasure of the eve of the opening, my camera never made it out of its bag. Luckily D. snapped a few shots on his phone…a pocket size record of the night. You get the idea.


The Museum of Perpetual Memory is on exhibit until the end of the month.

Pastry Peddler // 17 King St. E, Millbrook, ON.

Museum 10 - R.kennedy


Museum 4 - R.Kennedy Museum 5 - R.Kennedy Museum 6 - R.Kennedy Museum 7 - R.Kennedy

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The Museum of Perpetual Memory


The Museum of Perpetual Memory

art + collections + installation


August 3 – 30th, 2015

Pastry Peddler Cafe – Millbrook, ON


heap of thanks

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…can i just say thanks?

thanks to those of you who keep reading these pages, even when my scribbling is sporadic and my presence sparse.

thanks for spreading the word that this space exists. thanks for sharing links and passing my words along to your family and friends. thanks for giving my writing wings.

thanks for telling me that you keep checking in. that the words that i write mean something to you. that you want me to keep going.


because i will always write. i don’t remember my life without the love of words. but sometimes i struggle to believe that people will want to read what i write. that it’s worth the energy and risk to make myself vulnerable and put it out in the world.

but when you tell me it is, when you write me and comment and come up to me on the street and let me know that it all matters to you, even means a lot…well, i believe you. and it helps me remember to be brave and keep going.

so thank you.

we all need each other, don’t we?

here’s to being brave.


incredibly close


thanks to strangers and friends, and people with knowledge about things that i still don’t understand, this little site is finally allowing me to upload photographs again. it’s been a glitch in my blackbird world, a glitch that has deterred me from posting too much for a while. it just didn’t feel right without pictures, you know? anyway, gratefully, it’s fixed now. and i’ve got thousands of miles worth of photos and stories that i’ve been saving up to share.

and since today is a recovery day from a nasty flu, and i’ve found myself escaping from the heat of my farm field home to a quiet hideaway with a fan and electricity, it seems like a good time to tip toe back into the land of picture-book storytelling and put some color back into these word scrawled pages.

so today i give you pictures.

a handful of shots i took while staying in the shack at Fig Hill this past January, in the green wonderland that is the Bega Valley, NSW in summertime. D was off making a record on far away shores, and i took residence near the chook pen, at the bottom of a steep hill, with the nearby company of dear friends. i packed sewing needles, a basket of cloth, and a few spools of thread and set about making little stitched studies with no other aim but to create something every day.

there is a beauty in the utility of spool + needle + thread that i never tire of. i love that they are tools and materials that have never really changed. they hold stories. they get the job done. they are fragile and durable all at the same time.

they are materials that make sense to me. and sometimes, that is everything.



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a bird in the house

Two Crows by Radiator - Paul Cox Couet

Two Crows by Radiator – Paul Cox Couet

how she got in here
remains a mystery.
there was no swinging door
or open window.

when she arrived i’ll never know.
i came home to the sound of her wings flapping,
her black body, bright yellow beak, soaring over my head
as i climbed the last of the steep stairs to the kitchen.

a curious bird
is all i can suppose.

or lonely, i guess.

and while a bird in the house
on any other day
may have seemed like a problem that needed to be solved,
on this day
of all days
it felt more like a gift.

a story.
a poem.
a something i never expected.

a blackbird knocking at my kitchen door.

so i let her stay.

i gave her space
and i gave her time,
choosing to believe that if she got herself in here
she could figure how to get herself out.

do onto others, you know?
it’s how i was raised.

i left the light on for her
and said goodnight. i think we both slept sound in this little nest.
in the morning i heard the flap of her wings ringing a bell
and i crept out to find her perched on the window
watching me.

a little while later she left,
taking her exit as mysteriously as she did her arrival.

i’ll let you keep your omens and your signs.
just let me have the wonder, the mystery.

give me the story.
the poem.
the something i never expected.

i’m a curious bird
i suppose.

or lonely,
i guess.

give me a blackbird knocking at my kitchen door.

i’ll let her stay.

the way these days fall away

lazy mornings and late nights.
the generosity of november sun.
air dry clay and the practice of patience.
hot chocolate with cinnamon.
$4 purple skirt.
audio books and the simple wonder of a public library.
honey crisp apples with old cheddar cheese.
roobios with milk ‘n honey.
baking bread on cold nights.
the journeys that led us here.
letterpress and potato chips.
house-building, home-making. art mimics life, or the other way around.
a vigorous mind.
a content heart.
a friend who feels things.
a dark walk, body full of light…

Next Posts

Words + Photos + Credit

Unless otherwise noted, all original photography and text are property of Raechelle Kennedy. If you see or read something here and feel inspired to share it somehow, please be considerate and give the artist (me!) credit, or even better, drop me a note and make sure I don’t mind.
Thank you!

Here + There

Secondhand Sainthood and the gift of losing it all – Topology Magazine, December 2015

Ten Things Made – Topology Magazine, December 2015