Click through to see what Marco himself has to say about The Dragon Lord Saga: Martin & Marco. Click here to pre-order The Dragon Lord Saga: Martin & Marco in the Rabbit Room Store.

Today is a good day, because it’s the day that Spirit by Jeremy Casella is finally and officially out in the world. Celebrate with us and give this album a listen! Spirit is a gorgeous record, marked by gentle wisdom and heartfelt honesty. We’ve been keeping up with Jeremy on the record-making process since the beginning—check out an interview from during his Kickstarter campaign here and read our review of his record here. You can purchase Spirit now in the Rabbit Room Store. And be sure to check out Jeremy’s website, as well. Happy listening!

My latest project is, content-wise, somewhat of a departure for me. Or maybe it’s not, depending on how you view my songwriting over the years? Earth Has No Sorrow is a hymns project. Some friends and patrons of mine invited me to record “Come Thou Fount” for an episode of their Chicago-based podcast, The Bridge, some time ago. It was definitely outside my comfort zone, but I enjoyed it and was encouraged to assemble a few more hymns and try to release them. I only sporadically attended church growing up, so my familiarity with hymnody is embarrassingly shallow (at least, for someone who makes their living on the ragged-edge fringes of the Christian music industry), but as an artist and songwriter naturally drawn to honest, rich, genuine lyrics, it is not terribly difficult to see just how extraordinary and profound are so many of these songs. Like psalms, hymns speak for and to us. They have a way of reaching into us, especially when our own energy, heart, mind, or words are sapped or empty. Their gift to us is to remind and to advocate. Though this collection of songs is not my typical offering, I do hope they’ll reveal some iota of me, and in the process be something peaceful and pleasant, a balm in this wonky world. At the time of writing, Eric’s Kickstarter has just four days remaining. He has met his goal, but more funding will make the project even better. Click here to become a backer for Earth Has No Sorrow.

Tomorrow is release day for Russ Ramsey’s new book, Struck. Look for the Rabbit Room review to come, and in the meantime, watch the book trailer (by Samantha Fisher and Stephen Gage).

The Door on Half-Bald Hill takes place in an ancient Irish culture marked by its oral and aural storytelling tradition—which makes it a fantastic audiobook.⁣ And today, you are now able to listen to this story through the voices of its three narrators: Perth, Idris, and Saoirse, played by voice actors from England and Ireland.⁣ Here’s a five-minute sample of the book taken from Chapter 3: Click here to download the book on Audible.

The beloved tale of Henry and the Chalk Dragon by Jennifer Trafton is now available as an audiobook, skillfully read by Rebecca Reynolds. And you can listen to a ten-minute sample of it right here, exclusively on the Rabbit Room. Click here to view the Henry and the Chalk Dragon audiobook on Audible.

The Rabbit Room team has grown by leaps and bounds in the past few years, and today we’re delighted to announce that this strange little organism of ours has sprouted a new limb in the form of Andy Patton, our newly minted Director of Operations. Andy comes to us as a transplant from Greatham, England, where he and his family worked at L’Abri for several years (he was previously transplated to England from Missouri so, sadly, you won’t detect an accent or an unnatural affinity for marmite—okay, that last part isn’t sad). He’s a writer and game designer and an inquisitive, playful, kind, and soft-spoken leader. We are thrilled with his addition to our team and we look forward to the direction and organization that he aims to bring to the Rabbit Room in the years to come. Welcome, Andy. We’re glad you’re here.

This week, we’re sending membership gifts out to our new members. I used to be the one to pack those, and took a particular delight and care in it. I got to envision the joy on each face as they unpacked their mug, read their letter, and pondered the mystery of their member card. More than that, though, I reveled in knowing that each parcel going out represented someone who loved the Rabbit Room the way I love it. The world is full of folks who seem happy to be passive consumers, but I’ve never been one of those. When I love something, I have to dig my hands into it. I don’t just want to see the lake, I want in that water. If you don’t want someone singing harmony to your car jams, you best tell me ahead of time. The mountains are gorgeous, and I’m thrilled to gape over them, but at some point I’ve got to find a trail. Let me knead the dough, climb the tree, pull the weeds. Put me in the game, coach. I’ve never been content to stand by and watch. It doesn’t matter how clumsily I may start out, I want to be involved. That’s who our members are—the people who dig in. They encountered this crazy, wonderful experiment called the Rabbit Room and weren’t content to love it from afar. I’m not surprised to find kindred spirits here—this community is full of creators who feel pulled toward engagement and cultivation. When we kicked off the membership prototype in 2013, we couldn’t have imagined the community that the Rabbit Room would grow into today. We just wanted to create a space for people to get involved. There are folks who’ve been with us since the start, back when membership was just a shaky scaffolding. Since then, we’ve worked to build it into something more sturdy. Along with gifts and surprises, we’ve begun meaningful dialogues with our members about ongoing and upcoming Rabbit Room projects, events, and activities—and we’re working on ways to keep improving as we incorporate our members even more. At the end of 2022, we hope to be able to tell you that the Rabbit Room is 100% operationally sustainable through our membership, and that every dollar given beyond that goes toward new works, programs, and ways to bless artists and the community. Shigé Clark This membership has grown into a foundation of kindred friends who’ve made it possible for the Rabbit Room to keep running and bless others in times of trouble—and these last years of being able to turn and support artists and ministers during an economic crisis has inspired us toward a new dream for the membership. Our dream is for the Rabbit Room to be 100% operationally sustainable through membership alone. That means that we as members would cover all of the Rabbit Room’s operational needs, so that every donation beyond that will go directly toward programs, products, and services. We’ll provide the solid foundation, so that everything else goes toward building the house, where people will find refuge and inspiration for years to come. So we’re making it our goal to find 700 new members in the next year—folks who resonate with the Rabbit Room’s mission, believe in the work God is doing here for the life of the world, and want to dig in with us. At the end of 2022, we hope to be able to tell you that the Rabbit Room is 100% operationally sustainable through our membership, and that every dollar given beyond that goes toward new works, programs, and ways to bless artists and the community. This quarter, we hope to find 200 more people who want to be involved—and we’re looking forward to finding more ways to make membership fun and inclusive along the way! We hope you’ll join us. If you’ve been teetering on the edge of whether or not you should be part of the membership, this is your chance to jump in. If you haven’t heard of the membership yet, come learn about it here. And if you’re already part of the membership with us, thank you for being part of this good work that has been such a blessing, to me and to so many. We’ll be rolling out updates this quarter and next year, and we can’t wait to show you all that we have planned. I hope you’ll be a part of it. Let’s dig in. Click here to become a Rabbit Room member.

This week on The Habit Podcast, Jonathan Rogers talks with Alan Noble, Associate Professor of English at Oklahoma Baptist University, editor-in-chief of Christ and Pop Culture , and author of You Are Not Your Own: Belonging to God in an Inhuman World . Tim Keller has said “Alan is, I hope, the beginning of a new generation of scholar-writers who can bring the insights of [more esoteric thinkers and philosophers] down to earth and apply them in the most practical, compelling, and helpful form.” Click here to listen to Season 3, Episode 40 of The Habit Podcast. Transcripts are now available for The Habit Podcast. Click here to access them. Sponsorship on the Podcast Network Are you interested in teaming up with us to support the work you love? Send an email to our Head of Communications & Development, Shigé Clark, at shige@rabbitroom.com if you are interested in becoming a sponsor of our Podcast Network . Rabbit Room Membership Special thanks to our Rabbit Room members for making these podcasts possible! If you’re interested in becoming a member, visit RabbitRoom.com/Donate.

[Editor’s note: As avid readers of Ollister Pembrick’s writing (commendable!), we at the Rabbit Room are proud to present this letter from Barnabas Quiggle regarding the discovery of a cronker. It was brought to our attention by a student named Annie Butler, a skilled writer in her own right, as part of Andrew Peterson’s Creaturepedia writing contest. In fact, we are pleased to report that, with this letter, Annie won the 3rd to 5th grade section of this writing contest! Well done, Annie. And to our readers: enjoy, and may you remain safe from all nibbles.] Dear Ollister Bahbert Pembrick, I hope you remember me, Barnabas Quiggle, from when you were in Skree. I helped you document several species of dangerous animals (which contributed to the loss of several of your toes, some of my hair, and my left earlobe) that lived in mostly dangerous environments. I was a ranger then and knew how to handle those things. But even though I have aged and am now retired, I noticed you left one animal out of your Creaturpedia: a cronker. I came across one yesterday, and I will describe it to you to see if you will be tempted to return and properly document it. My two granddaughters, serious Kalia and small Lililah, came to visit several days ago. Lililah stated that I looked like the sky missed me, and Kalia said, like a stern and unsmiling nurse, that a walk would do me good. I realized I hadn’t been outside in days, so, after breakfast the next day, I announced I was going for a stroll in the woods. The walk was making me feel so good that I kept venturing further into the forest, thinking I could simply turn around and go backward. Squeezing through a large clump of bushes and trees, I was having such a good time that I nearly fell off a ledge before it was too late. I windmilled my arms and fell backwards, and laid there for a while, groaning. Eventually, I crawled to the edge to find a way down. Unfortunately, it was a sheer drop of twenty feet. And I had just been having so much fun! Suddenly, the trees rustled in the wind and shifted, shining light on a patch of brown-rusty-red fur that I realized sleekly ran down the length of a large, weasel-like body—it was a cronker! There was no mistaking its crocodile-shaped head and rounded, leathery tail! Most people thought cronkers didn’t exist! I only knew it wasn’t an apparition because my late Aunt Nanny told me about it when I was younger. Cronkers usually sleep at noon to avoid the heat (if they were awake in the shade, they would probably feel guilty for not doing anything), so the cronker in the shadow of the ledge was asleep. Illustration: “Spike-Eared Vargax” by Aedan Peterson Did I say shadow? Only then did I realize the sun was more to the west. The shock of finding the cronker was wearing off, and I eyed the retractable claws and mouthful of teeth it revealed when snoring. I began to tremble and sweat, because how could I leave this rare animal that could turn me into turkey dinner leftovers in three seconds? I decided to run back to town and get professionals to catch it, but the cronker woke, stretched, and locked its maliciously adorable black eyes onto mine. I wanted to run but was frozen and knew I couldn’t fight. The cronker looked at me, most likely wondering whether to eat or befriend me (or both) as was its nature. It was a tense moment that felt like hours, but I guess I was unfit for consumption or friendship. The cronker stood and began trotting away, and I suddenly felt like I just couldn’t not go after that creature. My friends at the tavern would call me a coward if I told them the story, so I recklessly stumbled down the hill on the side of the ledge and hobbled after the creature. My misadventures of the day are too long to relate fully, but I mostly learned these things by following the creature: It had a litter of five pups, was carnivorous (I don’t even want to retell that part), can climb trees due to its claws, can play dead, lives in a town of burrows (I don’t want to tell how I figured that out either) that are in and under all manners of things, communicates by yipping, and has a weakness for beetles, which it will crawl after in any given situation. These are only a few attributes of a cronker, and I hope you will come back to study it further (not because I’m too lazy to do so, of course). Unfortunately, no one has believed my tale so far except Lililah, and I thought I saw Kalia have a twinkle in her eye. I now write this letter and will probably send a more detailed one if you don’t arrive first, or after my friends at the tavern stop nagging after me about wanting to hear my story. I hope to see you soon. With kind regards, Barnabas Quiggle P.S. I congratulate you on your recent marriage to Miss Stupe. My best wishes to the both of you. [Editor’s note: This was the winning entry for the 3rd-5th grade section of the Creaturepedia writing contest. Congratulations, Annie Butler! The runner-up was Ben Hardy’s The Spiky Bimble. Well done, Ben! To view the names of all the winners of the writing contest, click here. Next week, we’ll treat you to the winner of the 6th-8th grade section: Calen Lotspeich’s Notes Regarding my Encounter with the Elusive Snorthog.] Pembrick’s Creaturepedia is now available in the Rabbit Room Bookstore.

Friends, Hutchmoot: Homebound is right around the corner. This Friday , October 8th, we will celebrate art, music, story, and community together, in pockets of family and friends all over the world. Here in Nashville, the Rabbit Room staff is so excited to finally get to share the sessions, concerts, and fun extras that we’ve been filming for months. In fact, we would love to give you a taste before the conference even begins—so throughout this week, follow our social media (@therabbitroom) to catch snippets and snapshots of what will become fully available this Friday. Click here to register for Hutchmoot: Homebound 2021.

Jonny Jimison is back with the thirty-first edition of his beloved comic,  Rabbit Trails . Click here to visit Jonny Jimison’s website.

The Habit Podcast is a series of conversations with writers about writing, hosted by Jonathan Rogers. In this 100th conversation of The Habit Podcast, Jonathan Rogers and producer Drew Miller play back and discuss favorite moments from the first 99 episodes, as identified by listeners. Click here to listen to the 101st episode of The Habit Podcast. Transcripts are now available for The Habit Podcast.  Click here to access them. Special thanks to our Rabbit Room members for making these podcasts possible! If you’re interested in becoming a member, visit  RabbitRoom.com/Donate.

Jonny Jimison is back with a special podcast-themed edition of his beloved comic, Rabbit Trails. Click here to visit Jonny Jimison’s website.

Jonny Jimison is back with a special Christmas edition of his beloved comic, Rabbit Trails. Click here to visit Jonny Jimison’s website.

In this week’s edition of Rabbit Trails, Doug McKelvey remains singularly focused on owls. Click here to visit Jonny Jimison’s website.

In this week’s edition of Rabbit Trails, Hutchmoot: Homebound suddenly becomes fiercely competitive. Click here to visit Jonny Jimison’s website.

Jonny Jimison is back with Rabbit Trails #24, wherein Sauron himself is brought low by an unstable internet connection. Click here to visit Jonny Jimison’s website.

Click through for this week’s edition of Jonny Jimison’s Rabbit Trails. Click here to check out more of Jonny Jimison’s work at his website.

Jonny Jimison is back with  Rabbit Trails ! Click through for this week’s edition. Click here to check out more of Jonny Jimison’s work at his website.

We have exciting news: tickets for this year’s spring season of the Local Show are officially on sale. This season’s shows will take place on February 18th, March 3rd, March 17th, March 31st, April 14th, and April 28th. Click through to purchase tickets. Click here to purchase tickets to the Local Show. We’d like to thank  Ronald Blue Trust  for supporting this season of the show. They believe in helping Christians become financially free to use their funds for the Kingdom, and we’re grateful that they resonate with the work we’re doing at the Local Show. If you’re interested in sponsoring the Local Show, please  contact us . We’d love to talk with you.

The much-beloved Jonny Jimison is back with his Rabbit Trails comic, just in time to celebrate Christmas. You can continue to be delighted by Jonny’s creative humor and whimsy by visiting his website.

Click through for this week’s edition of Jonny Jimison’s Rabbit Trails. Click here to check out more of Jonny Jimison’s work at his website.

I wrote this post before starting to read Mark Meynell’s book A Wilderness of Mirrors. Now I wish I had another six months to process what I’m learning so that I could integrate his wisdom here. After reading his first few chapters, I had to hit pause, then go back to see when it was published: 2015. This blew me away, as I could hardly believe that Meynell had predicted so much of what was about to happen in America. If you have any interest in cultural dynamics and how faith fits into where we stand in time, I hope that you’ll read his book. Below I’ve included some simple thoughts on why the framework of Ephesians 3 is super relevant to the struggles of living in a time such as ours—but Meynell’s ability to speak on these matters exceeds mine a thousandfold. Post-evangelicals seem to use the word deconstruction a lot these days. From what I can tell, they are describing a painful evaluation process—a season of looking back on their early years of cultural Christianity, ripping those experiences to bits, and trying to find out what (if anything) remains. Maybe it’s the Kondo approach to finding Real Jesus. Pull everything out of your God-stuff closet and throw it on the bed. Donate three quarters of it to Goodwill (or to social media rants). I understand why this concept has an appeal—especially for those who have been abused by distortions of what church was supposed to be. However, at least in the world of literary criticism, the word deconstruction has an interesting history. And knowing this backstory might help make the process of soul-sifting a little more efficient. (By the way, if you’re already familiar with Derrida and Deconstruction, you can skip down to the section titled “Deconstructing Evangelicalism.”) Deconstruction as a Philosophical and Literary Movement In the 1960s, French philosopher Jaques Derrida (and a few others) developed deconstructionism as a groove of philosophical and literary analysis. Literary criticism can have a reputation for being pedantic and boring, but it’s actually more practical than cerebral. All of us have an innate approach to interpreting books—defaults we apply to every text we read—so understanding formal interpretation is a lot like understanding the Myers-Briggs personality types or the Enneagram. Understanding certain categories can help us know our tendencies, our strengths, and our vulnerabilities. Derrida was a bit of a radical among literary critics. Instead of simply looking inside the text like a Formalist or looking at the culture surrounding a text like a New Historicist, Derrida challenged the fundamental “oppositions” of Western thought by breaking down language. He got down beneath the surface of sentences and started splitting atoms. Derrida claimed human thought processes run on binaries (opposites) embedded deep in our culture. For example, you know “hot vs. cold,” “light vs. dark,” “male vs. female.” A deconstructionist would not only recognize these opposites but also point out one binary as primary (or dominant). Then, he would challenge this dominance. So, here’s an oversimplified deconstructionist process: 1. Name the Binaries: Genesis begins with male vs. female. 2. Recognize the Dominant in the Pair: Adam was the source of Eve. Male is primary. 3. Challenge the Assumption: How has this fundamental starting point of male primacy damaged women in our culture? Imagine this process applied a million times over, to everything you think you know. Why do we assume light is better than darkness? Why is culture respected more than primitive existence? Why is democracy trusted more than monarchy? It’s the great unraveling. See? No landmarks are safe. In the process of deconstruction, every grand metanarrative becomes suspect. (A metanarrative is a comprehensive, fundamental story that attempts to make sense of the whole of the world. For example, Marxism is a metanarrative. Trust in universal reason is a metanarrative. Christianity is a metanarrative.) So, a deconstructionist isn’t just interested in little, isolated binaries—he also wants to go deeper, wrapping iron chains around any foundational element of culture, dragging it out from under the buildings it supports, and examining it clinically. Every prime assumption about “how the world works” is mistrusted, challenged, and busted apart. Deconstruction Hits Everyday Culture Over the 70s and 80s, this concept spread through other disciplines, impacting the social sciences and humanities. Postmodern thinkers ripped many traditional assumptions apart with their bare hands, some of them believing they were ripping down the walls of prisons. Perhaps some were. By the 90s and early 2000s, deconstruction had trickled into pop culture. Take a movie like Shrek. The delicate little princess is a B.A. with ninja skills before she turns ugly—then, ugly is okay. The handsome prince is named—well, Farquaad. He has a big, phallic tower and a little stature. Up is down. Down is up. Good is bad. Bad is good. And, most of us laughed about it. We laughed because Shrek deconstructed the fairy tale—as irreverent and daring as a fart in church. In some ways, in some circles, maybe this was healing. Even a rusty saw can cut off a leg infected with gangrene. But sadly, deconstructionist surgery is sometimes conducted by intellectuals with a “hold-my-beer!” swagger. Regardless of risks, regardless of consequences, they just rush in, tearing things apart like shirtless guys on YouTube lighting explosives. Too often deconstruction is muddied up with personal anger, disappointment, and loneliness. It can be frustrated, reactionary, reckless. It can blow up with no plan or resources to build back again. And because of this, many dangers of deconstructionism are missed by the hungry and the hurting. Deconstructing Evangelicalism But how might all this apply to disillusioned evangelicals? And how does it relate to Ephesians? For several decades, evangelicalism has been commandeered by political forces, systematized by CEOs, rolled out, and shrink wrapped into twelve-point concepts. Supra-textual binaries have been pumped through organized religion like saline through Thanksgiving turkeys. (You already know these opposing forces. “X political party is on God’s side. Y political party is on Satan’s side.” “Growing children God’s way vs. Satan’s way.”) And while Scripture does contain some definite binaries, many of the simplified extremes promoted in corporate Christianity in the 90s and early 2000s were not fairly derived from Scripture. They were eisegetical—pumped into the faith by men with earthly strategies and plans. Simplicity sells, even when it’s harmful and goofy. Soul thirst is lucrative business, and (as we’ve seen) heads of ministries are not above collecting expensive motorcycles and making $800K salaries while taking money from little old ladies on limited incomes. So, when a disillusioned thirty-something evangelical says, “I am deconstructing my faith,” she usually means she’s trying to shake off all these add-ons—hoping to find out if a core remains. And I get that. There’s a benefit to walking back through the past and removing the propaganda and the clutter. But I’ve also seen too much of secular deconstructionism to trust it entirely. A wrecking ball can be a helpful tool, but you need to swing it with care. Where Deconstruction Deconstructs In Fathers and Sons, a cocky young college graduate is determined to deconstruct everything while feeling nothing; however, his idealism is shaken by overwhelming attraction to a delicious young woman. When speaking to his friend about her allure, he says she is a fine biological specimen and that he would love to dissect her on the examination table. Turgenev is giving us a lesson here. There is a time to dissect with the mind, and there is a time to get married and make love. In Chapter Six of Alistair McGrath’s bio of C. S. Lewis, several pages describe thinkers of the English Literary Renaissance of the 1920s—men who were already wrestling with the philosophical ancestors of deconstructionists like Derrida. During this time, artists were trying to make art without being confined to the Christian metanarrative, but problems were arising. This is the metanarrative, and we don't need to deconstruct this one—we need to embrace it so that we won't 'lose heart.' Rebecca Reynolds Graham Greene watched godless modernists like Virginia Woolf and E. M. Forster attempt to create characters that failed to come alive but “‘wandered like cardboard symbols through a world that was paper-thin.’” Evelyn Waugh came to a similar conclusion, writing, “‘You can only leave God out by making your characters pure abstractions’” (133). These writers found that metanarrative is a fundamental human need. So, while manipulative metanarratives need to be challenged, the desire to divorce ourselves completely from the essential Story leads to more than just bad art. It can bring us to despair even more than to enlightenment. Simply put? There must be a way to ditch the Gothardites (and kissing dating goodbye, and militant infant sleep schedules, and whatever unfair thing it was that devastated us) without throwing the baby Jesus out with the bath water. Ephesians 3: A Map You Can Trust Ephesians 3 helps us do that. It helps us click on the map icon in Zelda, Twilight Princess to see the big picture amid a culture that has convinced us there is no big picture. Ephesians 3 says, “This is how today fits inside everything and forever.” This context is relatively new information on planet earth. Paul says it “was not made known to the sons of men in other generations as it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit.” He also answers some key questions: 1. What is the big picture? God has busted the microcosm wide open. He’s not just telling his redemption story through a dusty desert people now; it’s an offer to all. 2. Where has the mystery has been hidden? Inside of the “God who created all things.” 3. Why is it being revealed now? So that the manifold (multi-colored, kaleidoscopic) “wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.” Um, go back and read #3 again. It’s a killer. #3 means what’s happening down here is sending a cosmic telegram (dot-dot-dash-dash) to the metaphysical realm. God chose us (the church) to be his newsreel to an audience we cannot see with human eyes. The stuff of earth moves the gears of heaven. I’m not just one little hobbit trying to overcome an addiction. The choices of my tiny heart can knock down a domino train with consequences that impact all of Middle Earth. Tall order, right? Does it make your stomach drop a little? It does mine. Paul says this has been the plan from the beginning. The author built this duality into the foundations of his novel. This has always been the “eternal purpose” that was realized in Christ Jesus our Lord. And because we have access to him and his resources, we can be bold and confident as we wander inside of a narrative that would otherwise be entirely overwhelming. This is the metanarrative, and we don’t need to deconstruct this one—we need to embrace it so that we won’t “lose heart.” We need this fundamental story in a world that feels meaningless and chaotic. The Orchestrating God We need to see that “the orchestrating God” (hold that epithet) is agile enough to be working the past, the present, and the future all at once—and not only this, but he also can work the visible “here” alongside the “somewhere out there.” He’s had the resources you need ready since before this play hit the stage. Now, click out of the Zelda map page, and click on the utilities page to see what weapons you have. You don’t have to fight the boss alone. 1. Christ is going to dwell in your hearts through faith. 2. You get planted down in love so unshakable that it grows your ability to understand tending others at a level you can’t even comprehend quite yet. 3. You’re going to get filled with the fullness of God. 4. And while we are hooked up to this divine cyborg relationship (part me, part God), we are able to power up—SHAZAAM!—leaning on his superpowers to do more than we can ask or think. That’s the context. That’s the big story. That’s the zoom-out. Take a look at the author and see how you fit in the plot. It’s big enough to make you stop tearing everything apart for a minute. This one holds, folks. No wonder Paul took a good look at it all and paused for a minute to simply worship. Artwork by Andrew Holder

Click through for this week’s edition of Jonny Jimison’s Rabbit Trails. Click here to check out more of Jonny Jimison’s work at his website.