Field Journal No. 1

Why I Started the Academy of the Lost Arts

There are a few moments in life that quietly change the course of everything.

For me, one of those moments came after becoming a mother.

I've always loved the outdoors. Long before television cameras, survival challenges, or teaching others, I found peace in the woods. Nature has always been where I felt most alive, most curious, and most grounded. It has shaped who I am in ways I probably didn't appreciate until I had children of my own.

Like so many parents, I found myself trying to balance work, family, and the desire to give my children the very best start in life. As I looked at traditional childcare options, I couldn't shake a question that kept coming back to me:

What if childhood could look different?

What if learning happened beneath the branches of an oak tree instead of beneath fluorescent lights? What if children spent their mornings searching for salamanders, building forts, planting gardens, watching birds, and asking endless questions about the world around them? What if muddy boots, scraped knees, and curious minds were celebrated rather than avoided?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized I wasn't just imagining a different kind of preschool.

I was imagining a different kind of community.

A place where families who love the outdoors could gather together. Where grandparents could pass on skills to grandchildren. Where children learn that food doesn't simply come from a grocery store, but from healthy soil and patient hands. Where making a fire, identifying a tree, weaving a basket, or recognizing a bird by its song isn't viewed as unusual knowledge, but as part of being connected to the world around us.

The Academy of the Lost Arts was born from that vision.

Not because I believe we should live in the past, but because I believe we've left behind some things that are still worth carrying forward.

Self-sufficiency. Conservation. Craftsmanship. Stewardship. Wonder.

These aren't just "survival skills." They're life skills. They teach confidence, patience, creativity, responsibility, and respect for the natural world.

More than anything, I hope the Academy becomes a place where people find one another.

A place where families who value nature, curiosity, and lifelong learning can build friendships. Where children grow up knowing the names of the trees in their backyard, feeling at home in the woods, and understanding that they are part of nature, not separate from it.

This Field Journal will tell the story of that journey.

Some entries will celebrate the wildlife we encounter. Others will document new programs, restoration projects, seasonal changes, traditional skills, and the countless small moments that remind us why this work matters.

Thank you for being here at the beginning.

Here's to building a community, rediscovering forgotten knowledge, and raising the next generation to know, love, and care for the natural world.

Welcome to the Academy of the Lost Arts.

—

"Some knowledge isn't lost. It's simply waiting to be remembered."