BIOGRAPHY

inhabiting the intersection of people and place

Elizabeth (Liz) Domenech is a writer and naturalist whose creative work inhabits the intersection of people and place. Her writing can be found published or forthcoming in Orion, Terrain.org, Camas, The Sunlight Press, Eunoia Review, Montana Naturalist, Amethyst Review, and Edible Bozeman. She has received support from Vermont Studio Center and Bread Loaf Environmental Writers’ Conference. Liz holds a Master of Environmental Management degree from the Yale School of the Environment and is a certified Montana Master Naturalist.

Liz currently serves on the board of the Shield Ranch Foundation and is a Community Advisory Committee member of the Gallatin Valley Land Trust. Originally from the Texas Hill Country, Liz lives in Bozeman, Montana with her partner Chema and flat-coated retriever Dory. She is working on her first book.

dear reader,

I am delighted to inhabit this space together.

I am shaped and inspired by the communities around me, both ecological and human, and I consider certain places to have raised me: the Texas Hill Country, the North Carolina coast, and now the portion of the Intermountain West called Southwest Montana.

I write to give voice to what I sense from the places I inhabit—what the heron knows of drought, what chokecherries offer in a season of grief, or how the ocean speaks through the rise and fall of the breath.

My work is evolving, as my understanding evolves. More and more, I’m evolving a growing understanding of my own body in relationship to the land. These last few years, I’ve been on a journey to understand what stories live in my body, and where those stories originated. To listen to the voices that have come before me. The voices of the land and the water, and, as a white person, the voices of the people who lived here long before me and who still live here.

We are told many harmful stories about how we do or do not belong to each other and to this earth. But the earth shows us a different way, daily. My work on and off the page, regardless of the landscape I’m in or writing about, aims to listen to the voices of that place, human and more-than-human.

It is my hope, with the stories I tell, to offer a reimagining of how we can come back—to ourselves, to each other, and to the places we call home. I believe that the more we heal the stories within ourselves, the more we can heal a larger story of how we inhabit this earth together.

Thank you for being here.

Wildly,