Birds Art Life Death

‘Now when I hear birdsong, I feel an entry to that understory. When I am feeling too squeezed on the ground, exhausted by everything in my care, I look for a little sky. There are always birds flying back and forth, city birds flitting around our human edges, singing their songs.’One winter, Kyo Maclear became unmoored. Her father had recently fallen ill and she suddenly found herself lost for wor...