FOR THE ANCESTORS
Scent is an experience that is both individual and deeply communal - unseeable, untouchable, but silently felt - a universal language that speaks to us all. Ancestor is rooted in learning, understanding and the cyclical nature of all things.
The rich history of incense provides a window into how interconnected we are as humans to each other and to the Earth - our oldest and wisest Ancestor.
Hello, I’m Morgan
I make incense by hand in my home in Southern Appalachia in occupied Tsalaguwetiyi. I started Ancestor in 2021 as a study of scent, story, and heritage.
Botanical incense is exactly that: whole flowers, herbs from my garden, foraged moss and fragrant barks, luxurious tree resins, or a handful of crushed spices.
These each begin in their raw form and are dried, ground, and hand-formed into new iterations. I make medleys of materials used for centuries in incense, ritual and daily life. Sourced from the land around me and thoughtful cultivars around the globe. Each piece is made in harmony with the natural world, with patience, and meant to be learned, burned and returned to the earth.
葉 / YE / YIP / DIEP: “leaf” and “to be in harmony”
Like food, storytelling and ritual - I believe scent can bring us all to homelands we may never know.
My grandparents were boat people. They left Vietnam with 5 children, my father included, quietly stowed away at the bottom of a fishing ferry. The boat ran out of fuel midway through their journey, and they became stranded at sea for 3 long days. My grandmother had stowed away a handful of oranges that she carefully peeled to calm her children, rationing out each piece.
My father says he can remember the smell of oranges amongst the breeze of the ocean.
After the passing of my grandparents, I felt the distance from my ancestral roots for the first time. I mourned the connection and stories I will never know. I felt the need to reconnect with an identity I’d buried for most of my life. First daughter to first gen. A child of immigrant refugees. I burned incense nearly everyday at my altar, the familiar smell of sandalwood and smoke soothed the deepest parts of me.