Storytelling Strengthens Community

Our stories as LGBTQIA+ people are powerful. When we see ourselves in other peoples’ stories as well as when we learn about experiences that are not our own, we build understanding and empathy for each other. We affirm our own experiences and embrace difference. The act of sharing stories strengthens our communities.

The stories archived here are primarily a part of the Queerly Photo Collection, an independent project established in 2020 by freelance photographer, Kyle Warnock. The Queerly Photo Collection documents moments in the lives of hundreds of LGBTQIA+ people based in Maine.

Additionally, we now welcome community submissions! If you are a photographer and have a portrait + story to share, please fill out a form by clicking the link below.

Francesca, She/They

“I’m a psychotherapist in private practice and I was diagnosed with Autism this year, which has been incredibly liberating. A lot of things make sense to me that didn’t before: why I had to hide in my closet in the dark while movers took away boxes from my last apartment; why I ate mostly plain pasta in childhood; why I had to wear leg braces for toe walking in preschool. And then the strengths: sitting in a room for hours extremely focused on art; the pattern recognition that makes me a good therapist today; my endless curiosity. It’s my favorite thing in the world to connect to fellow Autistic queer folks in and out of the container of therapy.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, November 2024.

Gina, They/Them

“I want to take this opportunity to uplift the love I have found in my queer friendships. I have fallen so deeply in love with my friends, letting myself lean into the beauty of how we show up for each other. I have been so held and seen within these connections as my own queer identity has evolved, finding these friendships to be deeply transformative in the course of my life. I am old enough now to have friends that I made as a young adult coming out as queer and now these same folks have known me for more than half of my life seeing the many iterations of my queerness and life unfold. To have connections like that is powerful beyond words and I am deeply grateful to be loved and to love in that way. In a world that centers romantic relationships as the ‘worthy’ relationships to build one's life around (and I do love romance), I can't help but want to shout to the world how deeply and profoundly I love my friends. And a little shout out to Queerly Me where I have met some of my new friend loves in the last few years.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, November 2024.

Meg, She/They

Meg is a unique individual, and that is what queerness means to her: Individuality. Meg has always felt on the outskirts of groups, just different enough never to feel a sense of belonging. They were a single, intact being, separate from the group. Their neurospicy queerness was never fully accepted (internally or externally) until living abroad in Scotland, 23 years into their life. Here, she was surrounded by a new type of human, a confident, witty, and bold type who challenged her to become deeply in tune with themself. She came out in 2021 as bisexual, but that was just the start of their journey. Nuance and difference appeared as the days passed. She explored and experimented in the city of Scots, testing each label like a new jacket. It was hard but necessary. When it came time to move on, back to Maine and back to their home, they decided it was nearly impossible to identify with a singular “label” or “description”. She was confused and detached, from their friends, her community, and our place.

It was around this time, in 2023, that they discovered an organization called Queerly ME. She found, while immersed in the woods with other “different” queer humans, that individuality didn’t need to be lonely or solitary. One could be Queer without being separate or isolated. In this gathering, she saw people complimenting one another. They lifted each other up, played to their strengths, and took what they needed, giving back what they could, individuality intact. It was magnificent and inspiring. She was not only surrounded by extra-ordinary humans, but she was one, fully themself. Nearly a year later, Meg’s confidence has grown and she decided she wanted to show it off, being authentically themself. Meg belongs in this community, in this city, in this state, and in this world, just as she is: A Queer, lady-adjacent, different, and wonderful individual.

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, October 2024.

Isaiah, He/They

“My partner and I both grew up in Hawaiʻi and we’re often asked ‘Why would you ever leave Hawaiʻi move to Maine?’ It makes me a little sad because it often implies that Maine isn’t as nice. In the past couple of years, we’ve really fallen in love with Maine. The natural beauty of this place as well as the wonderful people we’ve been able to build connections with, many of whom we’ve met through various programs by Queerly ME, makes us grateful for what Maine has given us, there’s no need to compare it to anywhere else.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, September 2024.

Alexa, She/Her

“My sexuality journey has been an interesting one. After marrying my high school boyfriend at 23, it all came to a head at 27 when we divorced. I remember moments throughout my marriage when the ‘reality’ would creep in that I could never be with anyone else and explore my potential queerness. But I had suppressed my sexuality so far down (for many reasons) that I believed that was just an intrusive thought. Since my divorce and with the help of my chosen family, I have fully come out and embraced my reality that I am a lesbian and I am so happy to be out and living this truth. The lightness and freeness I feel in my life and in my body is so real.

As a queer yoga instructor, I bring these experiences into my teaching. I felt so disconnected from my physical body while suppressing my sexuality. Yoga was the only time I felt connected and able to actually tap into my inner self while feeling into my physical body. I strive to guide people into those spaces where they can FEEL. Sometimes I bring people into uncomfortable shapes in the body - with the idea that it’s not always about ‘feeling good’ but about ‘feeling.’”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, September 2024.

Jae, They/Them & Zoë

Zoë and Jae are both from away—Minnesota and New Jersey, respectively. They met in Maine (as farm apprentices!) and were friends at first sight. They always knew they wanted to live together, and yet somehow they never imagined it would be as a soon-to-be-married couple.

They’re grateful to have landed in Lewiston, where they’ve found a wonderful group of friends who are queering what it means to be a community. “Everyone always says it’s so hard to find friends in your thirties,” says Zoë, “but that hasn’t been the case for us.” Says Jae, “Attending queer social events connected us to people who share our lifestyle and values, and we feel at home here because of that.” The two explain that their community isn’t “queer” because it consists exclusively of queer people; it doesn’t. What makes it queer in their eyes is that Jae, Zoë, and their friends share time, space, and self in ways that joyfully embrace communalism and mutual flourishing. They support one another and cultivate happiness together even in the darkest of times. It’s the sort of community that Jae and Zoë want for everyone.

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, July 2024.

Tessa (She/Her) and Kira (She/They)

Tessa (She/Her) and Kira (She/They) met the cliche modern way, with Tinder. They spend their time baking, gaming, traveling, and spending the days with their two cats, Ace and Juuj.

While Tessa works overnights at an assisted living facility, her true passion lies in baking and sharing the joys of food with others. With Kira’s support and handiwork they’re hoping to open their own home bakery by the summer. If you asked Kira, she’d say the goods Tessa makes are worth sharing but if she could hoard them all she would.

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, June 2024.

Alex, They/Them

“I have always been in-between as a person, whether that is ethnicity, race, or gender. Not 50% this and 50% that but 100% a third, unique thing; the insider with an outside perspective. I was really lucky to grow up in Los Angeles where in-between-ness isn’t too uncommon and I could really explore my identity. It’s a real privilege that I was able to have a community that gave me the experience to look at the world as a gradient not a binary.

I’ve been in Maine for over a decade but I am new-ish to Lewiston. I joke that I just moved here to say that I moved from one LA to another. When I came to Lewiston, I thought about the issues and identities that are important to me and which ones would make the most sense to engage with. There are so many wonderful queer people in the area but there is a lack of spaces for us to gather and build community. I ended up taking on running an existing social event called Second Saturday and with some friends we’ve built L-A It’s Happening Queer @itshappeningqueer to organize that event and others. I’ve also helped organize Pride in Lewiston for the past couple of years and this year will be my biggest yet. We are going to have a whole week of events from June 1st to June 8th. I am really looking forward to it.

If you find yourself in Lewiston, get in touch: I wouldn’t mind showing you the city I love.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, June 2024.

Rakeem, He/Him

“For me exploring my sexuality meant finding my passion. Whether it was long nights, in ballet tights, in the studios growing up, or seeing a little bit of me inside of the queers in my community. Each time I took a leap of faith outside of my comfort zone I discovered another facet of me. Growing up Black and Queer in Sweet Home Alabama was a recipe for a trauma flavored funnel cake lightly powdered with social injustices and fried in micro aggressions, but it molded me into the unapologetic artist you’ve all come to know today.

When I moved to Maine, it took me a while to find my community. Often, I’d stop myself from opportunities, due to fears of inadequacy and imposter syndrome, until I was lucky enough to meet a group of like-minded individuals with THEM Burlesque, a queer burlesque troupe that I’ve been with for over a year at this point. It started off with THEM, but quickly expanded into the rich, vibrant, and welcoming queer artist community of Portland.

In the end, I just want to be living proof that you can overcome the struggles of your environment, find and thrive in your niche, and you can shine through the darkness the world puts on all of us with the strength and love of our fellow LGBTQIA+ community.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, June 2024.

Cara, She/Her

“I follow my core values, live with integrity and listen to my intuition. Everything else sort of works itself out. It’s less chaotic this way. Every moment requires a flexible mindset and balance of energies and adaptation. I’m a goofy firecracker sometimes and also a calming grounded realist. I go after what I want and also understand what I can and cannot change when something isn’t working. I enjoy my time in nature and solitude, put my energy into defining purpose in work and creativity, spending time with my social circle, and expanding my community of relationships. Writing about and sharing inner experience and finding depth in connection defines much of my life. Older and wiser, I live contentedly now and with patience, everything I need is within me and within the life I’ve built for myself. I have found that anything worth having, doing, loving, becoming is worth waiting for. Time will tell what is possible for me.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, May 2024.

Max, He/Him

“Hey my names Max, I’m a proud trans man who aspires to be a nurse and continue working with those who have dementia.

In my free time I enjoy long boarding and anything involving nature.

I’m very excited to be moving out of the winter season and into spring time.

I enjoy the sense of new beginnings!”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, May 2024.

Ashley, She/They

“I grew up in a very conservative religious community in Southern Kentucky, and while I knew and loved people who were gay, I didn’t learn about bisexuality until my mid-twenties. It was a moment of, ‘wait, doesn’t everyone make out with their girlfriends when they’re drunk?!’

By that point, I was in a loving hetero-presenting marriage (one I’m still happily in today!), and even still, learning about and being able to name this part of myself felt SO liberating. It’s like when you have this feeling you can’t quite put your finger on, but then you come across an essay or poem where someone articulates the feeling perfectly. You feel so seen like, ‘Yes!!! That’s it. That’s how it is for me too. I’m not alone!’

There’s a lot of privilege I have in moving through the world in a cis-het passing relationship, and also, I see that as a tool that I get to utilize. Since coming out to myself, my spouse and those close to me — all of whom were deeply supportive and not at all surprised — I’ve shared about my queerness online and in my art because representation matters. There are as many expressions of and iterations of queerness as there are queer people, and it’s important that people know that just because you appear femme and are with a man, that doesn’t mean you’re straight — or even a woman!

One of my favorite moments since coming out publicly was being approached at a park by someone who had read my story online. That sparked her own journey of deconstructing her compulsory heterosexuality and eventually coming out to herself, her husband, and her family. I felt so humbled and delighted to have played a small part in her discovering more of herself. That’s what it’s all about for me — becoming and expressing more and more of who I am, and in the process, celebrating and supporting those around me doing the same.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, May 2024.

Dimitri, He/They

“What does it mean to be male? This is something I used to ask myself. Several years ago my spouse came out as nonbinary, so I became fixated on words like ‘masculine’ and ‘feminine’; I questioned them and used them cautiously. What was I trying to say instead: kind, strong, empathetic? There was always a more truthful word. Doing this brought me to realize I did not identify with the common cultural idea of a masculine person. I removed a box society placed me into, realizing I was greater than the space that held me. I can be beautiful, tender, brave, I can be anything — I can be myself. Who I am doesn’t line up with what I’m told a CIS male looks like, and that’s okay! Don’t let this world put you in a box, because you cannot be contained or defined.

I have come to love the word queer. It allows me to declare that I don’t quite fit in with the CIS gender straight box of society, but I don’t have to plant my flag in any other constricting boxes, either. I am allowed a semblence of fluidity. Am I nonbinary? Pansexual? Polyamorous? I am just Dimitri!”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, May 2024.

Bean, name instead of gender pronouns.

“I moved to Maine with my partner and three cats 3 years ago after receiving a remission status from colon cancer for a change of pace and a different type of fresh air than the Midwest has to offer. Maine has been a great place to get into hiking and connect with nature, I love spending time outdoors. I’m looking forward to doing that more in these warmer months, despite heavily preferring the cold. I also love reading mystery & thriller novels, writing poetry, baking, and playing Pokemon games (Platinum is the best!). Since coming here, I’ve gotten very in touch with my spiritual and religious beliefs and have met others within the Jewish community who have become close friends. I’ve gotten very involved with the Maine Coalition for Palestine & Jewish Voice for Peace, with whom we now have a state pod, connecting with aligned Jews fighting for Palestinian liberation and liberation for all people throughout Maine. @jvp.maine

Baking is my heart’s passion. It was a large part of what helped me mentally get through my cancer treatments, and I feel very strongly that all cultures live on through three things: language, music, and food. I’ve led multiple cultural baking and food history classes and feel great joy and pride with every student’s finished product. People learn how to handle the motions of a dish, respect where it comes from, and taste the history behind it. I’m starting a baking business centered around these ideals, with the hope of connecting people with foods from mine and other cultures.

I’m still seeking my queer community in Maine, but the more I find myself the more friends I find. The BIPOC Queer community here is small but extremely vibrant, and I am excited and hopeful to find myself as a more connected part of it.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, May 2024.

Zach, He/Him

“I have a deep curiosity and desire to widen my skill base that sees me practicing many varied hobbies. Knitting, crocheting, visible mending, sewing. Permaculture design with a strong interest in tree care, soil building, foraging and water harvesting. Rowing my single shell. Embedding myself in queer community through participation or organization of events from simple potlucks and game nights, to garden work parties and talent shows. I have lived for the last 17 years in Portland, Oregon, so I am very curious and excited, having moved back to my home state, to see how my love of queer community will intersect with my love of small town/rural community that I have been away from for so long. My fixer-upper house and its setting in the forest on the edge of Cumberland County and the Mountain and Lakes region of southwest Maine give me the opportunity to explore that intersection.

Maine did not feel like a safe place for me to be gay when I was growing up. I couldn’t wait to leave. I don’t know who I’d be if I stayed here, but I know who I am now. I spent my young adulthood steeped in a loving queer community that allowed me to safely explore all of the edges of my identity. Not fully knowing how Maine had changed in the last two decades, safe or not, I was ready to move back and stand in my truth. I have to remind myself that 20-30 years ago, when I was looking for mentors and parental figures in the gay community, they were being wiped out or traumatized by the AIDS epidemic. I am now the age they would have been when I was a teen. The teens and twenty somethings of today seem hidden within a technological landscape that I am not entirely familiar with. My wish is to be part of keeping the queer generations linked with in-person community engagement.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, May 2024.

Lauren, They/Them

“In the same way a lot of us have struggled with not feeling ‘queer enough’, I’ve also often not felt ‘outdoorsy enough’. In other places I’ve lived, the outdoor culture has felt pretty competitive - who could climb the highest mountain or backpack the longest trail. In my twenties I started doubting my own connection with nature to the extent of not even trusting myself with a houseplant.

I’ve found that Maine is more welcoming and casual about outdoor interaction. Since moving here in 2021 I’ve gotten to try so many activities that would have felt off-limits before, like ski touring, snowshoeing, canoeing and kayaking, fishing, hiking, swimming, mushroom hunting, camping, and gardening. In large part thanks to the great queer outdoor programming here, I’ve gotten to start rebuilding my connection with nature at my own pace. And my first houseplant (Britney the peace lily) is still alive!”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, April 2024.

Tara, They/Them

“Born and raised in southern Maine, this place has a piece of my heart. I am thrilled to be back in Portland after some years away, serving as the Minister of Allen Avenue Unitarian Universalist Church, fondly known around these parts as ‘A2U2.’ LGBTQIA+ Mainers have been part of this congregation since the beginning, and I follow in the footsteps of a number of out, queer A2U2 clergy with humility and gratitude.

It was in finding my spiritual home in Unitarian Universalism that I also found queer community. It was in church that I met queer and trans families for the first time... gay, lesbian, and intersex elders with incredible stories to tell. I saw parts of myself reflected in their families... their stories... their pronouns... and worlds opened up for me. Faith and queerness, to me, are inextricably interconnected. It’s all about learning to be human in our fullness, and working to create the conditions for others to do the same.

In my tradition we believe not in original sin, but in original BLESSING. We are blessed, whole, holy, cherished... not in spite of who we are but because of who we are. And what a gift. To be out, proud, always changing, growing, deepening, questioning... in this beloved community that is home.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, April 2024.

Oronde, He/They

Oronde, He/They, is a city boi turned witch of the woods in Midcoast Maine, spending lots of his time tending to/thinking about his plants and pretending to be an old timey apothecary. Despite the transitional energy of the past few years, they are still incredibly dedicated to social justice and finding ways to highlight the importance of communication and vulnerability in creating stronger, healthier lives and relationships, especially for folks with marginalized identities and/or histories of trauma.

At heart, Oronde hopes to empower folks to show up more fully as themselves and help to strengthen and support their communities.

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, April 2024.

Jake Krueger, They/Them

Jake Krueger, They/Them, is a queer chaplain, innkeeper, community organizer, and death educator. Through much of their life Jake has been concerned with questions related to spirituality, connection, and meaning-making both as an individual seeker, and as a matter of discourse and practice within the queer community. They see building queer spiritual communities as the center of their work in the world–lifting up queerness and queer people as beautiful and sacred. When they’re not in chaplain mode you can often find them at Mercury Inn, a small bed and breakfast in Portland that they co-own, co-habitate, and co-operate with one of their partners.

Jake is a big fan of all things science fiction and fantasy, spurned by a deep and abiding childhood love of the X-Men, their favorite story-world metaphor for the queer experience. X-Men taught Jake about the importance of cultivating a sense of self worth and building a chosen family in a world that tries to tear queer people down for our queerness. The lessons learned in reading those silly superhero comics formed the foundation for the community building efforts Jake pursues now.

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, April 2024.

Joanne & Pam

Pam and Joanne, both life-long Mainers from big families, fell in love on their first date in 1992. Although they were not exact matches if measured against their lists of the perfect partner, both soon found they loved each other for lots of other new and wonderful reasons they had not previously imagined. The newness has faded a bit after 32 years, but the wonderful is still there.

They have lived in Bowdoinham for over 20 years now. Joanne has started sketching and watercolor painting, taking long walks with their dog, Sophie, and volunteers here and there. Pam loves fly fishing, and pickleball and has great plans for more of both when she retires in a couple of years. They have many adventures planned for the future in their teardrop camper and where the fishing takes them.

They have three children, three wonderful grandchildren, and of course the dog.

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, March 2024.

Jenny, She/Her

“I am a collage artist, poet, singer, nature lover and teacher. Being an educator sits at the very core of my being. I work in Early Childhood and I have always believed that nature is the greatest educator of all. Children can experience awe and wonder from looking up a tree that seems to touch the clouds. They can face challenges, fears and build resilience. They can learn empathy and strength from watching the smallest insect. Nature teaches children how to connect to our world in the most empowering and meaningful ways. ‘As we begin to feel our common bond of life with living things around us, our actions become more harmonious in an unforced, natural way, and we become concerned for the needs and well-being of all creatures.’ - Joseph Cornell ‘Sharing the Joy of Nature’

In the classroom or in nature, I want each child in my care to feel safe, seen, heard and understood. That is our job as educators. We have a responsibility to meet children where they are at. We are there to gently guide and fiercely stand by and support these tiny humans along their journey to being their most true and authentic selves.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, March 2024.

Nick, He/Him

“Maine is my happy place. Our sense of community, and our unqualified capacity to care for one other, are all some of the many things that make Maine special for me. I’ve spent my entire life here, and I can confidently say that whether you’re a new Mainer or your roots trace back generations, Mainers have a special knack for embracing you effortlessly. Being queer and the son of first-generation immigrants has taught me the unabashed joy that can come with living authentically. Despite the coldness of our winters, I’m consistently awestruck by the warmth that permeates this state. I hope that sense of awe never goes away.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, March 2024.

Halen, They/Them

“Growing up, I always felt different from the people around me because of my race, but also because of who I’ve always been inside. As a kid in rural Maine, I didn’t have anyone around me who looked or felt like me. In my late teens, I struggled with feeling like I fully belonged in any community. I never fully felt a part of queer spaces or black spaces because I am a biracial bisexual. Over the last two years, I’ve found peace in my intersectionality. I’ve focused on becoming someone I am proud of and not worrying about if I fit in somewhere. The community I have always wished for is now in me and in the people who love me for every part of me.

I think it’s so important for black queer people to nourish and love themselves. Don’t let the worry of expectance stop you from embracing every facet of your identity. Life is too short to spend it trying to squeeze into a box that was not made for you.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, March 2024.

Jae, They/Them or just Jae

“My life has been enriched beyond measure by examining, experimenting, evolving, and expanding myself in ways that feel true and right. However, being truly seen by others has been a dichotomous struggle for me almost my entire life. Now I guess it’s time to step into the light and love of my queer community. In doing so, I hope to encourage younger queer poets, photographers, makers, and finders to follow their passions wherever they take them. I’d love to connect with other poets and photographers in this community to share feedback and publishing resources if that’s your jam.

As a queer elder poet, I take advantage of every opportunity to live proudly in a binary world as a non-binary person.

Here’s a bit of my poetry:

‘Exhausted, I claw at my female skin

worn thin over male bones,

digging to sing my song aloud.’ (You can read the rest of Monday Night Choir Boi in ‘Red Rose Thorns Journal’.

If you live in the South Portland area – you might see me on one of our gorgeous beaches, swinging my metal detector while I fish in the sand for buried treasures. You will also frequently see my roly-poly body in board shorts and a tank top, strolling along the shore exclaiming out loud about every shard of glinting sea glass I find. And rocks! How do I choose just one? Other rockhounds will relate! In the long dark days of winter – I suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder -aptly acronymed SAD. I knock the sads back by sorting and making things with the treasure trove of stuff I found in the summer sun. I am currently trying my hand at making jewelry, wind chimes, and suncatchers with these artifacts.

My favorite place to be is outside with my camera taking photos of the natural world around me. I have a goal to include more real live people in my photos. I’ve made a start of that with the Cold Water Queers group. I don’t dip in the icy ocean with them, but am a land shark who takes photos of their shenanigans from time to time.

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, February 2024.

Tessa, She/Her

“I am a community connector, a conversationalist, an activist and a person who likes to put my hands in the dirt.

I graduated from UMaine in 2022 with a Bachelors of Science in Wildlife Ecology and Ecology and Environmental Science, deciding not to use my degree and instead chose to be thrust into farming and the nonprofit world. I have maintained my connections with current and past positions at The Wilson Center, an interfaith based nonprofit in Orono, where I did program coordination, The Nature Based Education Consortium’s Stories for Change Working Group, where I am a co-chair, and Wild Seed Project, where I support their fall seed sale. Recently deciding to call central ME my home, I feel like I’ve never felt more like a rural Mainer at heart.

I am a queer, polyamorous person navigating queer dating in rural ME. I have found community in young spaces, queer spaces, Jewish spaces, outdoor/field/nature based work spaces, circles of folks called to action, outdoor recreation spaces, storytelling spaces, and spaces where differences come together over shared intention. I enjoy all things outdoors- gardening, camping, hiking, hammocking, kayaking and talking to trees especially! I am settling into the early adult stage of life, with an amount of fear and joy that I previously didn’t know could co-exist so well. I am learning that there is no reason to fear asking for help, there is real beauty in showing up as your authentic self and there is necessary connection in community. It’s beautiful that we are allowed to navigate life, and I am happy that I am navigating mine with an amazing support system that spans the state of ME!”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, February 2024.

Catia, She/They

“I can no longer distinguish between what constitutes a hobby and what is intrinsically connected to my sense of self. I can tell you things I spend massive amounts of time doing, but I think the application of time makes them more than a hobby. The big ones: roller derby, playwriting, sewing/knitting/attempting to draw comics. Other things I spend lots of time doing: video games, reading sci-fi, thinking about aliens, thinking about liminal spaces, dissecting scripts for TV episodes out of a mixture of imposter syndrome and an unused Theater Arts degree, tying bow ties. Lately, language (especially how we choose one word over another) is taking up a lot of brain space. Which verb choice do I use to talk about learning new things: absorb vs. consume vs. engulf and why is there a variance in passivity vs. aggressiveness tied to each? How does a period at the end of a text change the tone? How we communicate on the roller derby track vs. on the bench. Questions I’ve been enjoying asking people: what is your favorite shape, what does your brain look like as a non-anatomical image, what’s your favorite alien depiction?”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, February 2024.

Sage, He/Him

“I am a gay and trans adventurer, artist, dog-dad, and nature-boy, and I’ve chosen to make Maine my home.

In my first decade of adulthood I juggled initiating my gender transition with immersing myself in an outdoor career and lifestyle. Rock climbing, backpacking, and canoeing took me all over the country, relocating to find the next employment or recreational opportunity with every changing season.

My 20’s were defined by transitions - constantly moving from one place and job to the next, while simultaneously experiencing shifts in identity, sexuality, and physical form. Constant upheaval slowly deteriorated my mental health, eventually prompting a change in lifestyle and career. The beauty of Maine’s remote mountains, lakes, and rivers (and marriage to a Mainer) led me to set roots here, where I traded the freedom of my nomadic life for stability. I bravely set out to learn an entirely new trade, becoming a licensed massage therapist, and began the next chapter of my life.

Although I still love and need adventure in my life, I am excited to spend the next decade building myself a robust and comfortable nest: prioritizing authenticity, deepening relationships, expanding my community, caring for myself, building my massage practice, snuggling with my dog and husband, exploring wild places, and making art here in Maine.”

Photographer Credit: KWarnock Photography, January 2024.