About the artist

A kitchen scene - eggs frying in a black pan with an open egg carton and charcuterie board with sliced meat and cheese to the left and a person sitting on the counter mostly out of frame

Carmen Lucich’s sound of belonging is the familiar bustle of cooking and conversation in the community kitchen at Heron Shadow Farm in Graton, California. (2:06)

Carmen Lucich is a poet who writes from her home in Guerneville, California. She is also an intern at The Cultural Conservancy’s land project, Heron Shadow, and comes from strong Choctaw women and Croatian people.

Audio transcript

Somebody’s always home, and that’s exactly what this place is. I can recognize them by their footsteps before I hear the sound of joy in their voices enter the room.

In the mornings, this is where we meet. Red Bird has yet to put his shoes on and sits perched at the top of the stairs. Luke’s eating something weird, but weird in his good way.

Jonny’s braiding Dell’s hair while he sits quietly, but that doesn’t last too long before somebody makes him laugh.

Ben taught me how to roast and peel peppers here. A lesson on corn nixtamalization came through Maya.

And me, I don’t like the smell of eggs. But I don’t notice that anymore.