Hope y’all have been well through this autumn sun, this Q4, this end-of-year, winter-is-near season.

It’s really one of the best times to be alive here upstate. I’ll be remembering this autumn sun fondly during the winter months of February and March. I’ve been doing my best to be outside, getting in every lick of nature trail I can, at least the ones without cars and other leaf-peepers bursting out of the parking lots.

I’ve been lucky to arrive back into this wonderful autumn season after a honeymoon in Italy with my lovely wife, Kaitlyn!

We had an amazing trip around central Italy. We got city, we got beach, we got mountains, and we ate, drank, enjoyed the touristy things and plenty of mellow places in between. I even managed to leave my computer at home for two weeks, which felt like an accomplishment in itself. Though, I kinda missed it.

There’s far too much to share about our trip, and I don’t want this to become a travel blog, so I’ll circle in on a couple of things that particularly caught my attention: the villages of Italy, regional food systems, and agritourism.

Rome and Florence came with their own tremendous histories, architecture, and foods. But my regenerative real estate mind, I suppose we’ll keep calling it that, was particularly compelled by a few experiences in the countryside.

The Villages

After Rome, we traveled south along the coastline to a small coastal village near Castellabate, where we stayed for a few days.

A short drive up the mountain brought us to a medieval village perched atop a hill, with buildings dating back to the 1200s and people still living there today.

And these places were still alive, Restaurants, people sitting outside, neighbors comingling, cafés, shops, and homes all blended together. Winding stone pathways connected everything, and there I was, the tourist walking through, trying not to horrify the locals with my terrible Italian. Residential homes opened right onto the streets, with front stoops, clotheslines, and seemingly not a single backyard, or at least none that I could see.

The place was built largely of stone and wood, materials obviously available in the surrounding landscape and used to create these habitats over centuries.

As someone who visits Manhattan often to see family, it wasn’t necessarily the density itself that compelled me. It was the density in contrast to the countryside juuuust outside the village walls.

Here was a way to cohabitate with others nearby, live a largely carless life, and enjoy the conveniences of cafés, restaurants, and shops, all while leaving the surrounding land available for agriculture, scenic beauty, and the larger landscape.

I can’t really imagine my life here upstate without my car. Frankly, it wouldn’t work. And in many ways, that’s been dictated by how we’ve developed our countryside. The expectation that we all have our own backyards, minimum acreage requirements per household, and homes spread out across the landscape.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my private backyard. But this way of settling the countryside comes with its challenges, particularly the distances between neighbors, the infrastructure needed to serve spread-out homes, and the lack of common spaces that bring people together.

For those of us circling the conversations around cluster subdivisions, cohousing, and ecovillages, there’s growing interest, among some municipalities too, in how we might create more connected ways of inhabiting the countryside.

I was smitten by the idea of having neighbors, food, coffee, and community within walking distance, while still having the luxury of stepping right into the countryside.

That feels a bit foreign to me currently, but actually, not entirely.

I did live in Hudson, NY, for about a decade, and I certainly sense that much of its popularity comes from exactly this combination: a compact, walkable city, a lively main street, proximity to the countryside, and of course, the train line connecting it back to New York City.

The Food, and the Farms

Okay, the food. It was a main attraction to visiting Italy for us, and it did not disappoint.

My barometer for whether we’d had a wonderful meal was actually comparing it to the little gem of a place, Graziano’s, in downtown Kingston. A wonderful, very Italian chef prepares meals straight from what looks like his home kitchen for you.

Anywho, one thing that struck me was how much local and seasonal food seemed to be taken for granted.

Each short drive we went on, the food changed a bit. Different regional dishes, ingredients, and preparations. Much of what we encountered appeared to be seasonal and sourced from the surrounding region, or at least from within Italy.

And the food was cheaper, too! Eating out became an at-least-once-a-day occurrence for us. Seasonality seemed like a given, whereas here in the Hudson Valley, it can often feel like a premium.

Kaitlyn and I were also lucky to spend time in Tuscany, perhaps our favorite region of the trip. In many ways, it felt the most familiar to us, with its rolling hills, agricultural landscapes, and small towns.

And there was agriculture everywhere. Like, an unusual amount of agriculture.

Throughout our search for accommodations, we kept coming across agriturismos, farm-based hospitality offerings where you could stay on a working farm, enjoy meals made from its products, or simply visit for the day.

What struck me was that these weren’t necessarily unusual destinations. Agritourism seemed much more baked into the culture and rural economy than anything I’ve experienced here.

Now, if there’s one place where the Hudson Valley might have a leg up on access to fresh food, it’s our roadside farm stands.

That’s where this region really shines. Just near my house here in Red Hook, I can think of at least five different stands where I can source meats, vegetables, raw milk, eggs, and other local products, all within five minutes of home.

That connection to food, to the seasonality of life, is something I think helps us humans continue to make connections to the places around us. It’s an antidote to homogenization and monoculture, both in terms of society and how our food is produced.

This notion of regenerative real estate, for me, is still very much intertwined with the regenerative agriculture movement.

And now, the stretch for this work is to continue exploring how agriculture and our housing models can influence one another.

How can our housing stock become more closely intertwined with regional soil health, agricultural production, farmer economic viability, and the use of locally grown, bio-based building materials?

How might the places we build actually contribute to the health of the landscapes and economies around them?

Bringing It Back Home

Walking through those medieval villages brought me back to some of the earliest conversations I was having around cohousing here in the Hudson Valley, five or six years ago.

During the early days of the pandemic, I was hosting regular Zoom calls, connecting with people interested in community-oriented housing, land stewardship, and alternative models of ownership. Some of those conversations helped build the relationships that eventually became the Trillium Housing Land Trust in Columbia County.

In that time I had the pleasure of connecting with a fellow Realtor, Barney, a kindred real estate spirit in those early days, who I actually had the pleasure of seeing again in Italy! Barney toured us around another one of these quaint villages where he used to live :)

I’m glad to report that Barney is keeping the community living spirit alive overseas, exploring ways to connect larger properties with opportunities for coliving. There seem to be plenty of older properties, including former convents and other religious buildings, looking for new uses. We were even lucky enough to stay in a former convent ourselves, with origins dating back to the 1200s.

Another memorable conversation from those early days was with the founder of Fitch Architecture, a firm that had already helped bring numerous cohousing communities into existence in Massachusetts.

I remember being struck by the variety of projects they had helped create. And here I was, in the Hudson Valley, wondering why we didn’t have more of them.

Five or six years later, I’ve come to understand some of the very real roadblocks that have kept these types of developments from taking shape here upstate. Zoning challenges, lending/investment systems that aren’t particularly well suited to housing models outside the familiar single-family home or conventional subdivision.

I won’t get into all the specifics here, but I know some of you reading this are still very much in the thick of trying to bring these communities into existence. I’m grateful to know so many of you and to have had opportunities to contribute along the way.

And the interest certainly hasn’t gone away. Just recently, I attended a cohousing event in Newburgh, where it was encouraging to see so many people coming together, some newly curious, others already working diligently to make alternative housing options a reality.

The desire to live closer together, share resources, and preserve the surrounding landscape isn’t a new idea. And yet, so much of our housing development here continues to separate us, each household on its own parcel, its own driveway, its own piece of the countryside.

I say this as someone who just closed on a single-family home here in Red Hook, something I feel incredibly fortunate to have done. More on that another time.

But I do wonder how we might create more opportunities for people who want something different. I know i stay intrested but the oprtunites just doens texit, which is still a motivating factor for me

Over the past several years, I’ve had the pleasure of working alongside people exploring community land trusts, cohousing, cooperative ownership, agricultural-workforce housing.

And I’ve become increasingly interested in the space between the vision and actually bringing a project into existence. The early conversations, feasibility work, relationships with landowners and municipalities, and the sometimes complicated process of figuring out how a good idea might become a real place.

It’s a big part of my continued interest and the work I’m doing with Three Waves, Regenerative Development + Real Estate, where I’m supporting people and projects looking to create something a little different here in the Hudson Valley.

Of course, our trip to Italy was also just pure fun. Two weeks of exploring, eating, wandering, and spending quality time away together. But I returned with a renewed appreciation for how the places we inhabit shape our relationships with one another and the surrounding landscape.

Not that we can simply recreate a medieval Italian village here in upstate New York. Different histories, economies, laws, and cultures shape the places we live.

Still, there’s something worth remembering about these compact settlements, their shared community life, their proximity to agriculture, and the ways they’ve evolved over centuries.

And I’m grateful to be back home, just minutes from our own little villages of Red Hook, Rhinebeck, Tivoli, Hudson, Kingston, and Catskill, and all the zigzaggy roads and farm stands connecting them.

A Little Invitation

I’ve got another newsletter coming shortly, mostly a roundup of events, gatherings, and opportunities to connect around some of the ideas explored here.

But there’s one I’d like to mention now!

Next Saturday, my wife Kaitlyn will be hosting her Slow Fashion Fair at the Fuller Building in Kingston, NY.

We had a tremendous fashion show at Stone Ridge Orchard just before our trip to Italy, but the nor’easter that came through canceled the following day’s fashion market. So we’ve pivoted a bit and are bringing the market indoors.

Three Waves has been a lovely sponsor of the event, and David Todd, my broker, and I will be there tabling, ready for conversations about regenerative development, real estate, and whatever else comes up.

If you’re in the area, come on by. We’d love to see you!

Link for tickets ——> https://www.hvsfw.org/sff

I’m back from a wonderful weekend in Philadelphia. I’ve been lucky to visit the city a couple of times this year, and I seem to love it more each time. Finding something unique to visit on the way down, eating some great food, seeing the history & historic preservation loudly present throughout the city, and also the hood, which is equally and ever-present.

This visit revolved mostly around getting in some dancing. A lot of dancing. And listening to some of my favorite artists at Making Time Festival.

I’m no stranger to festivals. I’ve worked them, volunteered at them, and hosted a mini one myself upstate for around a decade. Well, it was actually an annual camping trip that naturally just grew over time. All to say, I know the particular magic that can happen when a bunch of people temporarily gather somewhere with shared intention.

But there was something especially Philly about this one

The festival takes place at an old military fort along the Delaware River, between Pennsylvania and New Jersey. A place originally built around defense and war temporarily reimagined as a place for music, dancing, celebration, and some very strange people having a very good time.

And I’ll tell you, having time to celebrate, watching so many other people do the same, dancing hard, and watching musicians give their hearts and talents passionately over several days is such a beautiful experience.

In the midst of the current political shitshow here in America, it was nice to see a place with such a literal Revolutionary War history have its purpose flipped on its head for a weekend.

Dance music has been an integral part of my life since I was a teenager, from listening to my CD player as loud as possible in the back of my mom’s car, to, over the years, being able to travel across the world and experience various clubs here in NYC, reinvested warehouse spaces, and industrial zones where loudness doesn’t matter. The dance floor itself has become something important to me. Spending time anonymously in and amongst a crowd, standing in front of giant speaker stacks, has become a sort of forced, and very loud, meditation that I’ve grown to need and appreciate in my life.

The festival itself felt like such a success. No police harassment, a wonderful crowd, and, in my opinion, easily one of the best festivals stateside for dance music. To me, the fact that something like this can exist here, and be held so well, is a sign of a healthy culture in general.

I stood in line for one of the stages at one point, and frankly it was one of the only moments when I intentionally spoke with other people at the festival. I typically enjoy being pretty non-verbal in these situations.

But it was sweet meeting people from near and far who also cherish their time on the dance floor, using it as a place for meditation, hedonism, slight degeneracy, and relief from the day-to-day buildup of stressors. I also learned about some of the many other creative places across the States and beyond where people gather to dance and celebrate.

And before I even got to Philadelphia, there was another kind of place I wanted to see.

On the way down, I stopped at the enormous BAPS Swaminarayan Akshardham Hindu temple in New Jersey. The scale, and more so the details of the place, are almost overwhelming. I wandered through the temple and grounds, which are still expanding, taking in the extraordinary architectural detail and learning a little about the religion, the history, and the community that continues to form around it. All of which is beyond my capacity to share particularly coherently here after one very brief visit.

I’ve always wanted to visit India, and one day hopefully I will. Not to find myself, I’ve been lucky enough not to have to book a flight to do so, but to marvel at some of the temples they’ve built. So I feel lucky to have gotten a little taste of it right here in New Jersey, at a place I didn’t even know existed until recently. . The devotion and dedication required to build structures that represent something holy and greater than thou is fascinating.

In my past, I worked in historic restoration and spent a total of three years working on one single building from the 1800s in Hudson. It taught me patience, careful attention to detail, and what it means to work alongside the same team and crew for years. Being able to walk by that house now and appreciate the beauty it continues to bring to the city, and really that whole block, has also been important to me. At the time, I thought three years was a long time. But it really pales in comparison.

I’m sharing a couple of images of the gigantic stone structure. Much of the intricately carved stone was crafted overseas, shipped in pieces, and assembled here stateside, almost like extraordinarily elaborate, gigantic Lego pieces. an elegant blend of historic crafts with modern day strategy.

Walking around I found myself feeling a type of void, frankly, around values: where they come from, how we develop them, how they are held in community, and how and why they shape the way we build out our environment.

It’s abundantly obvious there’s a specific lens I try to share here. I use the term “regenerative,” but I’m still getting a deeper realization of where these motives and values actually come from.

And in places like temples, churches, synagogues, and other spaces built intentionally around shared beliefs, there seems to be a clearer and more explicit picture of where values come from, or at least an attempt to collectively wrestle with how we live together and deal with life on life’s terms.

Feels like a rabbit hole I could continue down here, but I’ll stop for now…

Inside the temple, shoes were required to be taken off and no photography was allowed. But one of the stewards assured everyone that there were plenty of HD images available online, one of which I’m sharing above. Being inside was quite psychedelic, honestly dizzying almost, and difficult to fully take in. The sheer amount of detail everywhere you looked was overwhelming in the best kind of way.

HVSFW September 25 & 26th

Again, I’m back, tired from the dance, and yet filled with gratitude to keep moving. Im taking the next couple of days to recoup, catch up on emails, surprisingly getting out a newsletter and then off to support my lovely wife with her own festival/fashion extravaganza right here in Stone Ridge, NY, at Stone Ridge Orchard.

Yet another reason to come together and celebrate beauty, fashion, culture, and music.

Hudson Valley Sustainable Fashion Week is now in its fourth year and has always taken place on an orchard, yet another example of creative use of space, where families can come together, pick apples, share good food and drinks, and celebrate sustainable fashion and art.

If you haven’t yet, please consider buying a ticket to Friday’s fashion show or Saturday’s Slow Fashion Fair.

My broker/colleague David Todd and I will also be tabling on Saturday from 11–5, sharing in person a little about how we work and inviting others to come sit with us, share their projects, desires, hopes, and dreams for what they hope to initiate here in the Hudson Valley around housing, land, and community development.

We’re excited to share the space with HVSFW and offer a little glimpse into our lens around real estate with reverence for life :)

Fashion show Friday. Slow Fashion Fair Saturday. Get tickets, come hang out!

tickets below!

https://secure.givelively.org/event/hudson-valley-sustainable-fashion-week-incorporated/hvsfw-end

Healing Ground & Engather @ Mabel’s Rest

And lastly, Kinstead & Healing Grounds will be hosting a wonderful event nearby on Saturday and Sunday at Mabel’s Rest in Napanoch.

They’re collaborating with Engather, which has been championing a kind of Ulster County mutual-aid and skill-sharing network: creating opportunities for people to show up and share their gifts with one another outside of the usual transactional exchange.

Another experiment in how we come together, share what we have, and build community.

Sharing their invitation below:

September 26th + 27th, we’re coming together for a two-day skill exchange offered by Healing Grounds Foundation, Kinstead’s nonprofit and @engather.co.

We each have something to contribute and something to receive from one another.

Across the weekend, 15 community-led offerings will include self-defense, acorn harvesting, plant walks, conflict practice, self-healing yoga, improv in the kitchen, a sound bath, and more.

Come learn, share a meal, spend time on the land, rest, and see what emerges.

🍲 Meals provided
⛺ Limited FREE camping + overnight lodging may be available
📍 @mabelsrestny | Napanoch, NY

Ticket Link and more info Linked below

https://luma.com/4szlbbbu

Ciao!

Leaving you with a notable song that was played as a two-hour electronic music set came to an end. The song itself is not electronic at all, but actually a vintage Italian-language song by Julio Iglesias that I’d never heard before. Perhaps a little more digestible for wider audiences, but frankly, good music is good music. And part of why I go to these festivals is to learn more about good music, which I’m always happy to share back with you. It’s always fun when a set is dynamic enough to fit something like this in.

I looked into the Italian lyrics briefly, and from what I gathered, it’s about a man feeling lucky to be walking around Venice in September with the woman he loves.

Well, I’m not going to Venice, but I am feeling very lucky to be heading off on a two-week honeymoon in Italy at the beginning of October. So I’ll be very much out of office, exploring Italian cities and countryside, spending all wedding gift-monies, eating all the eats, drinking the drinks, and basking in the southern Italian sun.

Leaving you with this song as a little placeholder for my time away, and until my next newsletter :)

Yesterday I got to take part in one of the simplest, yet maybe comically important, modern rituals for anyone in business, particularly real estate: the new headshot.

Feeling very grateful for another new beginning while continuing this work in real estate, marked again by the must-do ritual of trying to capture your modern-day essence and presence in the field.

I’ve also re-upped my bio, which will eventually live on the Three Waves website. Honored to be the first member joining the collective and looking forward to helping shape and deepen this work some more. There’s something familiar in being early to a thing like this, but more exciting about seeing the center of this work taking shape here in the Hudson Valley. Expect more invitations and offerings around this thread soon :)

Also, if you haven’t already, my co-conspirator in the regenerative housing mixers, Jared Spears, recently took the time to write a wonderful essay on regenerative housing. He puts specific language to the predicament of modern housing, looking at some global examples of place-based housing that have endured for centuries, as well as more recent developments here stateside.

Underlying it is a recognition that our “housing stock” is more than just sticks and bricks, and that how we shelter ourselves is inseparable from our relationships to one another, to place, and to the earth.

The project pictured below, EcoVillage at Ithaca, is one often cited here upstate and brings together clustered and communal living, access to land, shared infrastructure, ecological building, and long-term stewardship.

If you attended one of our Hudson Valley Regenerative Housing mixers over the past year, or even if you didn’t, I think you’ll appreciate Jared’s musings around place-sourced housing and the palpable feeling of something coming together here in our region around the subject. Give it a read and subscribe below.

Upstate Ecodwelling

Regenerative Housing

“Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature; it will never fail you…

Read more

2 months ago · 2 likes · Upstate Ecodwelling

There’s more being cultivated around this work of regenerative real estate, a moniker I’ve been waving around for a long time now. What felt like a lonelier road in the beginning no longer does. There are many folks interested in this field now, and I suppose the more attention I bring to this work, the more I keep finding others responding to the housing predicament in wonderful ways. I imagine many are motivated by some of the same desires for secure community, interconnectedness, and a place to safely belong, bringing their own life’s efforts to cross-pollinate, nurture the field, and bring forth unique housing endeavors and developments.

As I mentioned in my last newsletter, the relationships I’ve been lucky enough to cultivate under this newer self-brand/business/realtor thing have been tremendous.

And frankly, I suppose part of my motivation has always come from a sense of individual isolation. This work, and the process of bringing people together around it, has been a bit of an antidote to young male loneliness, if I’m being honest.

I’ve gone far out of my way since the inception of this work to cultivate in-person gatherings and ongoing online connection, including through the pandemic. I’m looking forward to more events, more collaboration, and more connections between people, places, and projects in the future.

When people ask what I do for a living, I’ve often said that I work at the intersection of regeneration and real estate. That’s true, but it doesn’t quite get at the more functional aspects of my work.

The intersection of regeneration and real estate is partly about raising awareness, pointing out negative patterns, imagining and showcasing alternatives, and “field building.” Frankly, that’s about all I had in the beginning: waving the flag, making some good trouble and noise around the predicament, and trying to draw attention to other possibilities. Only in more recent years has this work actually begun to make a bit of a living for me.

And with that, my role within real estate itself has become a little clearer: working alongside people and projects, often early on, to understand a place, uncover possibilities and constraints, make meaningful connections, and help build momentum toward what comes next.

That part of the work is more clearly outlined in my updated bio below.

And, as always, if you’re ever dreaming something up around land, housing, real estate, or place and think I might be useful, feel free to reach out.

Daniel Hason

Realtor & Regenerative Consultant | Hudson Valley, NY

Daniel Hason is a Realtor and regenerative consultant working across New York’s Hudson Valley. He helps people explore what’s possible with land, homes, and development, bringing together real estate, early-stage project thinking, local knowledge, and a holistic approach to place.

Daniel often works at the beginning of a project, when there is a vision but not yet a clear path forward. He acts as a co-creative partner, helping clients understand a place, uncover possibilities and constraints, make meaningful connections, and build momentum toward what comes next. His work draws on years of varied experience, but he also does some of his best work when a project asks him to stretch a little beyond what he already knows, working alongside a client into new questions, relationships, and possibilities.

A native New Yorker, Daniel has lived between New York City, the Catskills, and the Hudson Valley throughout his life. His work in the Hudson Valley has included biodynamic farm management, installing alternative energy systems, tiny-home building, and historic restoration.

That background shapes his approach to land and housing. Rather than seeing a property in isolation, Daniel considers the relationships around it: the people, ecology, critters, neighbors, community, ownership structures, local regulations, resources, and aspirations that together shape what a place can become.

His work includes:

• Ongoing one-on-one advisory and project support

• Residential and commercial real estate

• Regenerative development consulting

• Pre-development strategy and design

• Site analysis and feasibility

• Alternative approaches to land ownership

• Municipal and public-meeting support

• Owner and buyer representation

• Stakeholder engagement and facilitation

• Warm-data and community-centered inquiry

• Property matching and mission-aligned investment

Daniel supports developers, farmers, landowners, homebuyers, investors, community and nonprofit organizations, municipalities, and small-business owners, from people with an early dream for a place to groups already navigating a complex project.

His approach is informed by permaculture ethics, regenerative design principles, and a deep familiarity with and care for the Hudson Valley. As a millennial who came of age amid growing ecological, economic, housing, and social uncertainty, Daniel sees these challenges as interconnected rather than separate. That perspective is part of what draws him to regenerative work and to projects that explore more resilient and meaningful relationships between people, place, community, and ecological systems.

Outside of his professional work, Daniel draws inspiration from the Hudson Valley’s landscape and its long history of people finding meaning in place. Living on the east side of the Hudson, he remains fascinated by the landscape that inspired the Hudson River School of art. His interests and hobbies range from furniture restoration and playing squash at Bard College (an evolution from his handball days in New York City parks) to an appreciation for immersive arts, theater productions, rave and sound-system culture, and the many people experimenting with new ways of living and working together.

P.S. I’m heading down to Making Time Festival in Philadelphia this weekend. If by odd chance you’ll be there too, give me a hoot, bring your dancing shoes, or just send some of your favorite Philly recs :)

Hope your Labor Day weekend didn’t involve all too much labor, and that you’re settling back into these last weeks of summer.

This summer has felt particularly full, and filled with love. I got married this year. Family time post-wedding has taken up a lot of the summer, in a good way. I’ve been many places on short visits and trips with family, and then I come back home to the house I’m renting and am still in the process of trying to buy.

I’m settling down, which feels……very settling :)

I realized recently that I’ve been writing this newsletter consistently since 2019. I’m always appreciative when I bump into folks who mention they’re still reading these updates.

I’ve also had a couple of y’all sign up for paid subscriptions. I’m grateful for the support. Everything here remains free, no paywalls, but if you glean any inspiration, find something useful, or just want to support the work in a humble way, that’s certainly one way of doing so.

And if you’re already paying, thank you very much :)

I’m going to continue on the self-promotional side of things today. That’s probably always an undertone here, but this one is hopefully more explicit about how I work and what I do.

I entered this work as a Realtor and have been hosting meetups around real estate since I got my license in 2018. Some of the first editions were at ÖR Cafe in Hudson, which became Wylde Hudson and, these days, is Goodboybob Coffee.

And, just like that one specific coffee shop, my work has evolved quite a bit since then.

Realtor, development consultant, freelancer, facilitator, co-creator, and perhaps someday, what I call a “Capital D” Developer.

Along with the titles and the experience that comes with time in the work, what has become more important to me are the relationships that have formed around it.

This regenerative real estate journey I’ve been on, and the work/life I’ve been creating around it, has increasingly determined how I get to spend my days and who I get to spend my time with.

Clients, peers, collaborators, friends in the work, that actually is my “regenerative community.” Or just community.

I say that as someone currently trying to purchase a single-family home that I knowingly plan to live in for years, while also helping people imagine ways their community-building might be better reflected in the actual housing stock. A lot of those options simply don’t exist yet. I’m building community within the built environment we have, while hopefully creating more places over time that better reflect shared resources, shared equity, and more intentional relationships with one another.

Through this newsletter, each event I’ve hosted since 2018, each meeting I’ve facilitated, and each one-on-one with clients, there is a conscious effort to reach others, support them, and support myself along the way in this regenerative real estate journey.

That dance doesn’t always work, though, and I do find myself still in this sales position at times of, yeah, let’s only play if there’s work involved. To a degree, that’s necessary, but it can also feel a bit unsettling.

At the same time, I take a lot of pride in the relationships I cultivate, or that simply come my way.

I’ve been working with some folks for years now, and I actually find myself a little sad thinking about those relationships eventually ending as client/work relationships. But I’m much more excited knowing some of these people are becoming neighbors, nested here in this place alongside me.

I’m lucky not to have to parse my work and life into completely separate places or groups of people. I’ve certainly tried earnestly to find the 9-to-5 here in the Hudson Valley, but the last position I considered gave me more tension than I’d like to admit. I realized I would have had to give up some of the momentum, client work, and relationships I’ve been cultivating.

I’m grateful this path has continued to unfold the way it has.

Sustainable Fashion Week(end)

And in this vein of work and life coming together, perhaps one of the most precious evolutions for me has been meeting and marrying my wife, Kaitlyn.

We actually first met through a business incubator program here in the Hudson Valley, which led to a natural curiosity in each other’s work — hers in slow fashion, mine in regenerative real estate.

Years ago, I helped Kaitlyn rent her first studio space on Warren Street in Hudson. Her work has also evolved quite a bit since then, and I’ve been lucky to support it along the way.

Her studio and storefront have since made their way down to the Rondout in Kingston at @maisonapres, where I work from pretty often. I’m actually writing this newsletter from there right now, sipping some of the best coffee in town. They also happen to have really fun lewks :)

One of the larger evolutions of her work has been Hudson Valley Sustainable Fashion Week(end), now in its fourth year. It’s a collaborative effort bringing designers together to showcase upcycled and sustainable fashion to a broader audience while celebrating the work of local designers.

It’s a wonderful event, set amongst a beautiful orchard. Literally hundreds of people show up and show out in their latest fun wears, pick apples, drink cider slowly, and get to watch some beautiful people and looks make their way down the runway.

HVSFW is another vein of industry disruption in fashion, highlighting some of the degenerative patterns in the industry while celebrating beautiful alternatives.

Come by, snag your tickets linked below :)

https://www.hvsfw.org/weekend

Three Waves

And, happy to share that Three Waves Realty, founded by my broker, longtime collaborator, and friend David Todd, is sponsoring this year’s Hudson Valley Sustainable Fashion Week(end).

We’re continuing to build out the website and the work, but one simple tagline we’ve landed on feels increasingly right to me:

Real estate with reverence for life.

https://www.threewaves.xyz/

I’m naturally a part of both worlds, so the mutual support happening here is particularly sweet to be a part of :)

On Saturday, the day after the fashion show, there’s a vendor fair with crafts, skill shares, and more opportunities to shop and hang with designers. David and I will be tabling as well, inviting folks to engage with us and discover a little more about how we work.

In some ways, Kaitlyn and I are attempting parallel things in very different industries. Her work asks questions about waste, materials, production, and our relationship to what we wear. Mine asks similar questions around land, housing, ownership, ecology, and our relationship to place.

Years after helping Kaitlyn rent that first studio on Warren Street, the real estate brokerage I’m now a part of is supporting something she’s helped build.

These worlds keep finding their way back into one another.

Regenerative Dream Journey

So all of that is, in some form, an example of how work has had its effect on me over time. And below is perhaps an example of how that, in turn, affects the way I work.

Time in real estate does come with experience. Every deal is different. I pay attention to the patterns that emerge over time, where things get stuck, what moves them forward, and what becomes possible when the right people, places, and ideas find one another.

One offering that feels particularly pronounced for me right now is something I’ve been lucky enough to practice and am now putting a little more structure around: Regenerative Dream Journey.

It’s a contained period of time together, conversations, field trips, research, connections, and one-on-one or small group meetings, to better understand what you or your group is actually attempting around housing, land stewardship, community, business models, or some combination of them all.

We get closer to the heart of what you’re trying to create. We explore places. We make connections. We pressure-test the idea.

And, importantly, we encounter some of the real-life constraints around what’s possible when the dream meets the real world.

That’s not necessarily a bad thing. Constraints help shape the process.

This could be an individual, family, group, community builder, landowner, or organization trying to bring something into the world that doesn’t quite fit the conventional boxes.

You may have a group beginning to form. A place already in mind. Or simply a dream you can’t quite shake.

You don’t need to have it all figured out.

That’s sort of the point.

If this sounds like something you, your family, your friends, or your community have been circling around, I’d enjoy taking on a few new clients for the Fall. Reach out!

And if it’s not you, but someone came to mind while reading this, send it their way.

As I said at the beginning, this strange little work/life I’ve built depends quite a bit on people knowing I’m here. :)

Hoping summer time has been full in a good way for ya. Jumping straight to it, saving some personal reflections at the bottom of this thread :)

Three Waves ///

Announcing a wonderful evolution in the work. My friend, colleague, and someone I look up to very much, both literally and figuratively, David Todd, has launched a new brokerage, will be my broker, and I’m grateful to be moving my license over to this new umbrella, team, and lens in the work called Three Waves.

Many of you know David. Many times when I speak about the work I do, I’ve either been confused with David or told, “You should meet David” or “You must know David.” And I’m lucky to have known him since the beginnings of my regenerative real estate adventures and doings.

This will be my third brokerage/team since getting my license in 2018. I’m leaving eXp Realty, a more national/global, mostly online brokerage that was convenient through the pandemic, notably while I was helping build up Latitude | Regenerative Real Estate. But frankly, I never really cared much for the brokerage itself. It was largely a matter of convenience while working across state lines on a team, which eventually fell apart as the pandemic subsided, work moved offline again, and people became weary of Zoom culture and whatnot. There’s more there, but I’ll save it.

This new iteration of Three Waves is especially exciting because this notion of regeneration meeting real estate was a pretty lonely road in 2020. It doesn’t feel that way anymore. David and I have been hosting various circles and meet-ups, working with private clients and nonprofits, and helping build the field. Now we’re formalizing some of that space and work within a local brokerage and development team.

I’m excited to have this umbrella to work under and with. Inviting others into the fold has been a prerogative for both David and me. Worth noting, if you consider yourself an ally in this work, live near Kingston, and are keen to cowork semi-regularly, David has gained access to office space in the communal Fuller Building in Midtown Kingston. If you’re keen to share space with other uniquely driven, creative, fun, supportive, and semi-social folks, please consider dropping by. The image below has the deets. hmu for calendar invite, or show up every 2nd or 4th Thursday of the month :)

This is but one of the wider engagements coming. I also want to share a bit more about the service-oriented processes we’re offering as a group. Traditional buying and selling is in the works, as well as a few specific offerings we think can best serve our local community, landowners, and community/project-curious folks.

May I suggest scrolling through the Three Waves website and having a quick look around. More to come on the site as well. We’re certainly ready, eager, engaged, and have the space and desire to work through some interesting projects together.

This is a new home for my work, and I’m keen to collaborate more earnestly with David, clients, and the wider community, finding where our work and interests overlap. Click the link below to explore the new page, as we continue to fill it up

https://www.threewaves.xyz/

Regenerative Housing Mixer & Survey

Last Wednesday Jared Spears, Skye Ruzzio and I hosted yet another successful Regenerative Housing Mixer up in Catskill, NY. Themes covered included cohousing, cooperative investment, adaptive reuse, mutual aid, and community support. I always leave these mixers having met new folks. Attendees ranged from people in the very midst of large projects on Main Streets, with millions invested, to those currently holding land and curious how to develop it, and those just beginning their journey and exploring their curiosity around the topics shared.

*Photoed below, one of the breakout convo circles*

This marks our fourth stop on a year-long seasonal tour throughout the Mid-Hudson Valley (Ulster, Columbia, Dutchess, and Greene Counties). And guess what, we’re wondering what to do with this vital nerve of connective tissue Jared and I find ourselves inviting in and holding. Each mixer has brought an enthused group, lots of questions, some very real answers to difficult issues, and has raised the bar on what seems possible when sharing notes and meeting one another. The community knowledge has been tremendous.

We’ve received some feedback along the way about what Regenerative Housing actually is as an organization. For a bit more clarity, we are a fiscally sponsored nonprofit through the Good Work Institute in Kingston. We’ve been awarded some very humble grants over the past couple of years and are looking to engage further, but we’d really like some feedback on how we can be of service to the wider community.

There’s already been earnest interest in us collaborating on projects, supporting groups in municipal rooms when projects and processes need support or translation, and providing subsidized services through grants to help folks access legal and professional services around regenerative housing.

So Jared went ahead and created a very quick survey for feedback. If you’ve ever attended one of these meet-ups, or simply have opinions on how you think we might evolve, we’re very open to your suggestions. Please have a look at the survey copied below. Your five minutes will go a long way.

Regenerative Housing SURVEY

Kinstead — What We Carry Forward

Lucky to be sharing another event hosted by The Healing Grounds Foundation, Kinstead’s nonprofit supporting healing-centered and regenerative practice.

I’ve also been fortunate to be collaborating and working with this group over the past year as they work through various details of a community development project here in the region. My role has been thought partner, touring land, zoning diligence, warm introductions when right, and helping work through the many specifics that come up with a project like this.

It’s been a full year now of working earnestly with the group, who I originally met through a Foundations of Intentional Community learning program on Zoom. Where we pretty quickly found we could help each other in the pursuits of our personal and professional self actualizations.

One of the most critical parts of the process for me is how much it has stretched my own capacity in the work. I’ve gained a much better understanding of the overlaps between nonprofits, cooperatives, development, and some very real New York State specifics around cooperative investment, like the martins act to be specific. Which i won’t go into here, but it’s part of the reason you don’t see many ecovillages, cohousing projects, or cooperatives in our region, and actually working through some of these questions with a group trying to do it has taught me a lot.

We found each other, saw the potential in working together, and I think over the past year we’ve all learned a lot and changed some of our thinking along the way. I’m grateful for the community that was, and still is, this group. I have no intention of living on-site, but working alongside them, having their presence in my life, and having a real project to exercise this work through has been really valuable to me and has reinvigorated some of my own interest in the work.

It takes two to tango. I don’t really have the desire to go out and develop something on my own. Maybe I never will, or at least that’s not where I am lead to right now. Working with Kinstead has made the importance of community not just in the end result, but throughout the actual process of getting there, much more apparent to me.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I was interviewed by one of Kinstead’s founders around a seemingly simple question: What is a regenerative community?

That word “regenerative” gets thrown around a lot. I do it myself. So together we explored a bit of what it actually means to me, particularly when we move beyond buildings, land, and development models and into how we relate to one another.

A brief excerpt from the interview:

“Ask Daniel what comes to mind at the phrase ‘regenerative community’ and you won’t get an ecovillage or a development plan. You’ll get something like this: ‘Any ways that we can get back toward earnest interconnectedness and interdependence. I would consider a regenerative community.’ Interdependence, not independence. He kept coming back to that.”

The full interview and exploration will be shared through Kinstead’s Substack, so please give them a subscribe if you’re curious to follow along.

Kindling from Kinstead

What If Regeneration Begins With Soup?

Conversations is where we sit down with community builders, researchers, practitioners, and community members whose experiences can help us all build stronger communities. Together, we explore the questions, lessons, and practices that shape community life…

Read more

3 months ago · Kinstead

They’ll also be hosting another gathering in Kingston on Sunday, August 30, from 2–4pm at the Good Work Institute called What We Carry Forward.

The gathering asks a question I really like: What knowledge, traditions, practices, or ways of caring have we inherited from others that we want to carry forward? Attendees are invited to bring something learned from an elder, mentor, family member, community, or lineage—a recipe, ritual, lesson, way of caring, gathering, or simply staying connected—and share it with others.

A fitting way, I think, to actually practice some of that interconnectedness rather than only talk about it.

Link Below to RSVP :)

https://luma.com/8hyl02oe

Signing Off

Things have been full here. Lots of family around post-wedding time has kept my schedule uniquely scattered. I actually find myself writing this from my father’s commercial storefront in the East Village. A lapse in leases left the space empty, so while it’s underutilized the family quickly suggested my wife pop up a shop, extending her presence beyond the Hudson Valley down here in Manhattan.

We’re down here on Avenue B between 10th & 11th through Sunday, 12–6pm. Come hang out :)

So I’ve been down in the city way more than usual. More than I like, I’m realizing, but the time with family and experiencing this block more intimately has been great.

I’m from the city, born and raised where Queens meets Long Island. Growing up I also spent time in the Catskills on family land that’s been around since before I was born, so my experience of home has always been spread between the city, Queens-Long Island, and upstate.

I feel particularly New Yorker and native to this place, while also grateful for the different places I’ve been able to call home throughout the lower region of the state. The Hudson Valley is very much home now, and it’s done wonders for me, my nervous system, and my life.

And part of that lifestyle is very much coming down to the city and having access to all it provides: food, music, arts, stenches. lol

Hello Hello All,

Wanted to share here as well in case you missed an invite to our next Regenerative Housing Mixer next Wednesday. We’ll be gathering at Left Bank Cider in Catskill from 6:00–8:00 p.m.

Jared Spears, my co-conspirator in this recent string of gatherings, put together a lovely invitation and is building a mailing list that you may want to join. (you’ll be prompted by RSVP’ing to the mixer)

We’re expecting sunny weather, sunset views along the Catskill Creek, along with great drinks and bites at Left Bank.

Please get acquainted with Jared’s invite :)

Link below to RSVP

https://partiful.com/e/z06oPpLzpuPV26nUcUtP

Hudson Valley Regenerative Housing (HV/RH) is an emerging community of practice bringing together people reimagining how we live together—from housing advocates and ecological builders to community organizers, land stewards, and those exploring cooperative models of ownership and neighborhood life.

Coming off of our stimulating Spring picnic on the topic of agrihoods, we're excited to invite you to our August meetup, focused around themes of cohousing and adaptive reuse.

We'll gather to share stories, lessons learned, and practical questions for those actively creating more collaborative ways of living—exploring shared ownership pathways, group formation and decision-making. Whether you're already involved in a project, curious about starting one, or interesting in supporting more neighborly ways of relying on one another, you'll find kindred spirits gathering.

Agenda
6 - 6:30 Gather + introductions
6:30–8:00 Breakout conversations and share-back

Together we'll:
- Make interdisciplinary connections with others shaping the future of housing in the Hudson Valley
- Exchange experiences, resources, and lessons from shared ownership and adaptive reuse
- Surface opportunities for collaboration and identify the connective tissue needed to help more projects take root

If you've been working to realize collective visions around cohousing, cooperative ownership, or ecological building—or drawn generally to more connected, resilient ways of dwelling—we'd love to have you join us. Wherever you're starting from, you have something valuable to contribute.

Let's get acquainted, get inspired, and continue weaving the relationships that make new housing futures possible.

These gatherings continue to reveal a growing community looking for healthier alternatives in how we hold land together, weave our lives together more intentionally, redistribute ownership, share resources, explore cooperative and semi-intentional living, and imagine a building stock rooted in non-toxic materials cultivated through a local web of farmers, neighbors, designers, and builders.

Recently I was interviewed by Kinstead, a local ecovillage coming into being that I’ve been fortunate to work with. At the end of a 45-minute conversation, I was asked a simple question: What is a regenerative community?

For me, much of it has to do with living, as best I can, within a decentralized community. It’s about leaning on those closest to us—my in-laws who are deeply rooted here, neighbors close enough to drop off soup when someone is sick, and choosing conscious interdependence. These community gatherings have also become a cornerstone of my work in real estate. I’ve genuinely enjoyed bringing people together around these conversations and helping shine a light on the incredible local knowledge, curiosity, and support that already exists around us.

I was then asked what a regenerative community might look like in 2050.

To my surprise, I answered through the lens of building materials.

I hope we move toward homes that are fully, or nearly fully, compostable. But even beyond that, I hope we know the people cultivating those materials in our region, the farmers whose fields we drive past, the soils being stewarded nearby, and the craftspeople transforming those harvests into places to live.

Regeneration has always felt most tangible to me through agriculture. During my few years farming, I came to know many of the fields and farmers that still supply restaurants I eat at today. I find something deeply meaningful in that continuity.

My hope is that one day our homes carry that same sense of relationship, that the fields growing our building materials, the health of the soil, the regional economy, and the people making them are all part of the story of where we live. At that point, the materials themselves become only one part of it. The deeper value is the relationships they represent and the communities they help sustain.

Please see my previous post and subscribe to Kinsteads substack, where a more indepth reflection on my conversation will be shared :)

I have a few more personal reflections I plan to share sometime soon, along with some broader ones on what I’m sensing within the market and the developments happening across the region, particularly the continued explosion of wellness- and luxury-branded hospitality developments taking shape. I don’t think we need to continue pandering to the luxury market as our primary direction. It’s a trend worth bucking, and one that extends beyond hospitality into the single-family housing market as well. We can and should widen the scope of who benefits from our region and its precious time and resources. Let’s figure it out.

More soon, and per usual, please feel free to reach out!

Summer has been very full so far. I got married, snuck away to Massachusetts for a few days of rest afterwards, and then got straight back to it. A longer honeymoon (and a bit more rest) is planned for October. :)

I’ll have some wider and more personal reflections in the next letter, but this time I wanted to share a couple of invitations from folks near and dear to me, and a few others I’ve yet to meet.

Kinstead

Firstly, I’m excited to share a series of upcoming events from some longtime clients and now friends. I’ve been lucky to work alongside this earnest group over the past year as they’ve been bringing Kinstead into being here in the Hudson Valley.

Kinstead is an aspiring intentional community bringing forth a cohousing model, which in and of itself is a rather complex undertaking. Adding to that, real legal structures are being fleshed out to build a housing cooperative, specifically a limited-equity housing cooperative, helping make homeownership more accessible.

Alongside that, they’ve also formed a nonprofit to accept grants and donations in support of developing a retreat center called Healing Ground, which will eventually be nestled within the community. The nonprofit also becomes another way to further expand the capital stack, helping move toward actually accessible housing.

The cooperative framework is another important piece of making that vision real. It allows housing accessibility to exist more on a spectrum while fostering shared stewardship and collective ownership. It also creates a legal structure that allows larger groups of people to collectively invest together, something that’s uniquely difficult to do here in New York State.

The broader vision also includes farmland, homes for farmers, soil cultivation and food production, and long-term land access.

What I’ve come to appreciate over the past year is just how much real work goes into something like this. Community agreements, values work, governance, legal frameworks, fundraising, organizational design, and visioning all happen alongside the wonderfully mundane work of reviewing legal documents, speaking with attorneys, revising operating agreements, and patiently building structures that can actually hold a project like this. I think that’s what sets this group apart from many ideas that remain only dreams. It takes both vision and years of practical work to make something like this possible, and I’ve been honored to play a part in helping it all happen.

They’ve also recently launched their own Substack, which I recommend following. Earlier this year they traveled throughout Portugal, visiting eight intentional communities, regenerative farms, and rural initiatives, learning from people who have spent years, and sometimes decades, exploring different approaches to collective life, land stewardship, livelihoods, and governance. They’ve begun sharing reflections from that journey, along with the ongoing story of bringing Kinstead into being. If you’re curious about intentional communities, cooperative housing, or simply following the evolution of an ambitious local project, I think you’ll enjoy reading along.

Subscribe below.

Kindling from Kinstead

Kinstead is where we practice thriving together. We are building an ecovillage in the Hudson Valley—an interconnected ecosystem of people, homes, and land designed for thrivability.

The project is still looking for its home, and I’ve been fortunate to spend the past year touring properties with the group and helping imagine what that place might become.

In the meantime, they’re beginning their more public foray into resource sharing, skill exchanges, and community building. It’s just the beginning of this work. Much of the deeper planning continues behind the scenes, but I’m really glad to help spread the word about this first series of gatherings. I hope some of you are able to make it.

A Season of Practice - Kingston NY

Kinstead is offering gatherings that help build the skills, relationships, and practices that support community life.

Their first session in the Skill Exchange Series, Everyday Skills We Carry, is a chance to share and learn from the practical knowledge we rely on every day but don’t always name—the ways we care for ourselves and others, navigate challenges, create connection, organize our lives, and contribute to the well-being of our communities.

Everyone has something to offer. No expertise is required, only a willingness to share what you know and learn from others.

Sunday, July 12
2:30–4:30 PM
Rot & Fallow, Kingston, NY

Learn more and register here: https://luma.com/vtfm1udx

For future events —→ https://luma.com/user/usr-9Chgw6Um3eGyPoB

WILT Opening July 7/25

A long time collaborator, dear friend, and someone I look up to very much is co-hosting a rather unique open house and art opening in Ulster Park on July 25th.

My dear colleague David has helped foster a beautiful meeting place between art, home, and transition. Together with Marah Shemesh and several artists, they’re launching WILT, “an experiential, site-responsive exhibition” featuring photography, sculpture, and installations woven throughout a home coming to the market. Rather than simply opening a listing to the public, the home itself becomes part of the exhibition, inviting visitors to experience the space as it moves into its next chapter.

If you’re nearby, I imagine it’ll be a pretty special evening. Hope to see some of you there.

The next Living Room exhibition will take place in a home that Marah and her two children lived during a period of transition.

I had the good fortune of meeting @marahshemesh through our mutual friend @davidmmmmtodd while considering alternative exhibition spaces. It felt as though we understood each other immediately. As I was leaving, I mentioned how much I loved the wilted flowers placed throughout the space—how I have always felt people discard their bouquets far too soon. She lit up in agreement—wilting is beautiful!

The next morning, I woke early, energized by an idea: a way to engage with Marah, her home, and its transition into a new chapter through art.

Wilt will open on July 25. We look forward to welcoming you there.

More updates and details can be found on their instagram page https://www.instagram.com/livingroom______?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet&igsh=ZDNlZDc0MzIxNw==

Sirius Eco Village

I’ve again been lucky enough to visit a wonderful example of community living out in Massachusetts at Sirius EcoVillage. A longstanding community, quite large both in numbers and in physical space, they’ll be hosting a convening around intentional communities this September.

It may be obvious through the threads and letters written here that an arm and a leg of the work I do leans toward helping community living happen in the region as one way of fostering greater interdependence in an otherwise hyper-individualized culture here in the USA.

I’ll share something I’ve been a little hesitant to say. Particularly among peers, or folks in the real estate industry, I sometimes hesitate to talk about helping form intentional communities. The term can come with baggage. People often think of failed experiments or communes gone wrong. But in my experience there’s so much wisdom, experimentation, and practical knowledge that’s emerged from ecovillages and intentional communities that’s worth bringing more into the mainstream.

Not because they’re perfect, but because they’re asking questions about housing, land, governance, and belonging that many of us are asking again today. Places like Sirius have a lot to teach, and I’m sure the folks gathering there will be just as eager to share what hasn’t worked as what has.

Sirius has been steadily growing into more and more of a regional hub for bioregional resilience. Along with collaborations from several organizations, notable permaculturists, and the Foundation for Intentional Community, they’ll be hosting what looks to be a weekend-long festival, conference, and gathering this September.

I’m sharing it because there’s a good possibility I’ll be attending myself, but also simply to put it on your radar. If intentional communities, ecovillages, regenerative living, or just meeting thoughtful folks working toward new ways of living together pique your interest, it looks like it’ll be a wonderful weekend.

Register here https://siriuscommunity.org/event/forests-of-the-northeast-intentional-communities-convergence/

One last invitation for now...

Jared Spears and I are planning to co-host another Regenerative Housing Mixer, this time up in Catskill, NY. What began as a Mid-Hudson Valley tour has slowly made its way into Greene County, where we’ll gather to continue crossing paths and sharing notes around cooperative housing, circular economies, ecological building, and the many experiments unfolding across the region.

More than anything, these mixers are a chance to meet one another, reconnect, and discover who’s working on what. Look out for a date and time from us soon. Hope to see you there. :)

Look forward to cultivating more personal reflections for next newsletter hopefully soon! Enjoy the summer, and as usual please feel free to reach out!

Spring done sprung and with it that familiar burst of energy that comes every year. This 2026 spring feels particularly pronounced, doesn’t it?

It’s cliché to say real estate picks up in the spring, but the past couple months have felt especially active. There have been more moments where I’ve needed to consciously slow down. And also some awkward stops in the work that remind me I’m not exactly coasting here either.

May’s weather and time spent walking around the Hudson Valley this spring felt damn near perfect. The light. The greenest greens. The sunshine. It really does make everything feel right.

And somewhere beneath all that, I still kinda miss winter at times. Watching a movie at 6pm. Less obligation to be out and about. A little more stillness. Something I’ll try and remember next time winter rolls around.

But overall I’ll take a Hudson Valley spring anytime.

Along with the spring buzz, this year has brought about a certain stride I’ve been able to touch for the first time in my career.

I say touch because that’s exactly what it feels like.

Things haven’t necessarily become easier. Next month’s workflow certainly isn’t guaranteed. But the stride comes from feeling threads beginning to connect. Places, projects, people, conversations. Threads that have taken years to weave together.

After years of fumbling around trying to understand, explain, or stubbornly hold the field of what regenerative real estate actually means…..it is beginning to feel tangible.

Part of that comes from having real clients. Folks willing to hire me, trust me, pay me and support me as we slowly develop projects together. I’m genuinely grateful for it.

It’s also a bit odd. Much of my work happens privately . There are specifics I’d love to share more openly but simply shouldnt (yet).

That said, some of those projects are beginning to come to the surface. Websites are being built. Partnerships are forming. Projects are moving forward, contract being wrtitten. A few case studies are starting to emerge. More of that work will be shared in time :)

a silliest of springitme selfies

A Bit More Specifics & How I Work

A lot of the work I’m hired to do lives in that early pre-development stage. It’s been rich.

Walking land. Looking at zoning. Understanding constraints. Thinking through possibilities based on properties we’ve toured, comprehensive plans we’ve read, local codes, hillside slopes, wetlands, old forests, new forests, and all the quirks that make a place what it is.

Exploring conservation options. Connecting people to potential collaborators. Pressure-testing ideas. Facilitating difficult conversations. Trying to understand what a place is asking for and what might actually be possible there.

I’m still very much focused on helping ordinary folks with a good idea become their own developer, sharing my own skills along the way.

Housing. Farms. Conservation. Community spaces. Development ideas. Cooperative ownership structures. Retreat centers. Landowners trying to understand what’s possible.

One client is exploring affordable housing through cooperative ownership. Another is trying to understand the development potential of over 100 acres in the Catskills. Others are exploring agricultural enterprises, conservation strategies, or simply trying to understand what comes next for a piece of land they care deeply about.

I’ve also recently found myself engaging with a couple local nonprofits, which has been a welcome addition to the mix.

And I’m still helping some folks with the more familiar side of real estate as well. Looking for a place to call home. Raise a family. Host gatherings. Put down roots.

Not every project needs to reinvent the wheel.

They’re all different, yet many seem to orbit similar questions around land, stewardship, housing, and community.

I’m grateful and honestly honored to play a role in understanding, connecting, and attempting to bridge some of these conversations.

Let’s Connect

A lot of the work I do starts with a conversation.

If you’re sitting with a piece of land, a project idea, a housing concept, a conservation question, or simply a feeling that there may be another possibility worth exploring, feel free to reach out. email below

DanielHasonRE@gmail.com

I’m happy to offer a handful intro 30-minute calls for folks trying to make sense of what’s possible.

Whether that’s as a consultant, facilitator, agent, thought partner, or simply another set of eyes on an idea, I’d be glad to connect.

And if you’re local, coffee works too :)

Hudson Valley Regenerative Housing Mixer

Earlier this month we gathered with Sennyuen Farm in Red Hook around the topic of agrihoods. What a wonderful gathering it was.

At their best, agrihoods attempt to weave together housing, agriculture, conservation, soil health and community interdependence. While the term can mean different things depending on who’s using it, the central question remains: how might we create places where housing and land stewardship actively support one another?

People sometimes assume I live in one of these permaculture eco-village, composting toilet, cohousing situations. I don’t. I’d probably enjoy it, have visited them in the past but the truth is I currently live in a fairly normal single-family home with an oil furnace and a modest garden out front. Like many people, I’ve found that a lot of the housing models I find most compelling simply aren’t very available. and not necessarily for everyone

The gathering itself was wonderful. Folks shared real quandaries they’re currently navigating with municipalities, planning boards, zoning codes, and their own sites. Some had gotten stuck. Others shared ways they’d managed to wiggle through or around those challenges.

There were candid conversations around farmer housing, cluster development, conservation, affordability, land access, and the realities of trying to move projects forward.

Megan Offner facilitated a wonderful conversation around growing regional supply chains. There continues to be a lively thread here in the Hudson Valley around how we grow supply, retrofit existing buildings, and utilize more local materials in the process.

Discussions wandered into local timber, panelized housing systems, hemp, straw, soil health, farming viability, and the possibility of producing more of our building materials closer to home.

The work still feels early, but increasingly it feels tangible.

Jared Spears, who helped co-host the gathering, put together excellent follow-up with very specifc notes notes. If you’d like a copy, send me a message. Happy to share them and add you to the list for future gatherings.

we planning our nextone sometime in August :)

Life Update

I’m getting married this month. Next weekend in fact :)

Feeling very lucky these past few months.

Between client projects, house projects, and wedding planning, there’s been a lot going on. I’m excited to celebrate soon with my lovely fiancée, family, and friends.

And when I’m not working through details of a project, I find myself daydreaming about our honeymoon in Italy later this year.

Barney, if you’re reading this, I’m still hoping to swing through Umbria. Hopefully see you for dinner in October ;)

This spring also brought a bit of uncertainty and the potential for a pretty significant life change.

A colleague passed along an opportunity at Scenic Hudson. It was a full-time role around land conservation, helping make sense of conservation strategies, speaking with landowners and farmers, evaluating projects, and generally doing work that felt pretty aligned with my interests.

I was genuinely excited about it.

The mission alignment was there. The certainty of a paycheck was very appealing.

I gave it a real go. Made it to a second interview out of more than 40 applicants, but ultimately didn’t get the position.

It was a bit bittersweet.

At the same time, while I was waiting to hear back, a couple new clients came on board, softening the blow a bit. I found myself looking around at the projects already on my plate and realizing I would’ve had some difficult decisions to make had I gotten the job.

Some projects would’ve needed to be wrapped up. Others referred elsewhere. Who knows what would’ve happened.

This was actually the third time I’ve applied for a role at Scenic Hudson.

And beyond Scenic Hudson, I’ve spent the past few years applying for various jobs at local nonprofits and mission-aligned local organizations. Many of them do work I deeply respect. Some are organizations I now regularly engage with through my clients and projects.

It’s been a little awkward at times.

I’ve never quite fit perfectly into any one role.

And frankly, that’s been frustrating.

At the same time, I’m beginning to wonder if that’s also part of the point.

The work I’m most excited by seems to live in the spaces between things. Real estate. Conservation. Housing. Community development. Facilitation. Agriculture. Economic development.

Not quite one thing. Not quite another.

I spent a fair amount of time trying to fit myself into one of those silos. Truthfully, a steady paycheck remains appealing. But for better or worse, I seem to keep finding myself back in this freelance, interdisciplinary, creative corner of real estate!

So for now, I’m hopeful I can continue touching this stride I’ve begun to find. Continue doing this work earnestly.

And yes, if you’d like to help me keep this thing going, send a project my way :) seriously

I’m grateful to keep working alongside the folks who continue to trust me with their multidisciplinary ideas, projects, and pieces of land.

Bonus Throwback

I was reflecting a bit the other day as Facebook reminded me of a photo I took back in 2018.

It was my first time walking a piece of land as a licensed realtor in Columbia County.

Much has changed since then.

My work in real estate has certainly evolved, and so has the Hudson Valley. Looking back at that photo, I don’t think I had much of a clue where any of this would lead. Sharing it here just for funsies.

As I was reflecting, I also went digging for an old video from a very different chapter of life.

Back in 2013 I spent a festival season in England building infrastructure for music festivals. Putting up, maintaining, and breaking down composting toilets.

It was simultaneously one of the most disgusting and rewarding jobs I’ve ever had.

It felt radical. Mission-aligned work. Got paid. Traveled around. Backstage access to some incredible events. Met wonderful people. Learned a lot.

Funny enough, that seasonal job still exists if you know anyone particularly inclined toward such things. I can give a warm invite to the owners. They have since won world records installing +1000 plus composting toilets on a a single site (Glasotonbury Festival), literally filling garbage trucks of humanure onto local farms to be composted down.

Anyhow, I found a short clip from a festival in Germany where I was helping compost humanure and figured I’d share that too.

video & image below in tophat and suit explaining how to use a compost toilet

enjoy the rest of spring :)

Spring has been in full force, and with it, an extrovertedness that feels mostly welcome. I’ve been glad to step out of winter’s hibernation, was particularly deep and hard this year. I hope you’ve been adjusting well to the seasonal shift and taking in the smells, signs, blossoms, and sneezes as they come :)

I’ll save any wider or deeper reflections for another post. For now, I wanted to share a few upcoming events in the weeks ahead, notably one I’ll be co-hosting with my co-conspirator, Jared Spears, at Sennyuen Farm here in Red Hook.

Have a look at the list below. I plan to be at all of these, though this is by no means a full picture of everything happening in the region. It’s been meaningful to witness so many collaborative communities coming together and supporting one another, and I look forward to seeing many of you soon.

Looking forward to gathering, breaking bread, learning, sharing, listening, and embracing the warming months ahead.

Hope you’ve been well as the year unfolds. As the world continues its unraveling, we stay on course, gently and fiercely, bringing forward a healthy alternative to business as usual.

Keep on keeping on. See you soon :)

REGENERATIVE HOUSING “Picinc”

This will be our third mixer, and we’ll be hosting it here in the county I now call home.

This next mixer will focus on the idea of the agrihood, a form of development re-emerging as a way for people to live more closely with one another and the land and soils they steward. It’s a model I’m actively exploring with a couple of clients, each bringing their own approach and vision.

It also draws inspiration from the broader agricultural movement, which has helped popularize and demonstrate regenerative practices that are, in many ways, already latent within us. It’s a reminder that we are not separate from nature, but part of it, and that we can contribute positively to the whole.

Big thanks to my friend Jared Spears for helping bring these events together and for creating the invite. These gatherings have been reaching capacity, so please RSVP if you plan to attend.

RSVP link - https://partiful.com/e/rSycGY89xsR0JEWPDuSR

SPARK OF HUDSON - BEYOND LAND ACCESS

https://www.sparkofhudson.org/calendar/beyond-land-access-brunch-and-learn

COOP MIXER

RSVP - https://luma.com/uv7eqcqo

TAP ROOT - COMMUNITY LAND TRUST

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/seeds-of-change-tickets

HVSFW SHORT FILM

I’ve been lucky to be supporting my lovely fiance kaitlyn and be part of the team that hosts the Hudson Valley Sustinable Fashion week. Its been a beautiful event, and fun to be apart of. consider joining us for a screening of last years event which was produced by HUDSY.

Rsvp link - hudson-valley-sustainable-fashion-week-the-movie-tickets

Think that’s it for right now. Things have been very full on my end lately. It’s cliché that real estate picks up in the spring, but it’s proving true. as i think all of life does as well.

I’m just back from a bachelor trip in Philly with my brothers, wedding planning is in full swing, I’m still in the process of trying to purchase the house I’m living in, and I’m heading into a second interview with Scenic Hudson next week. Lots cooking, lots moving.

And when I’m not doing all that, I’m actively dreaming into a honeymoon adventure later this year as summer winds down.

Feeling lucky and inspired, even amidst the chaos that feels so present in our news and algorithm feeds. This work/life keeps me inspired and strong

As I always share with close friends, and with any of you reading, please feel free to reach out. A lot of this work is built around community and relationships, and I always welcome one-on-one hangs, calls, and conversations.

Ending with a glimpse into another thread of life lately, my wedding suit. A ridiculously oversized fine Italian wool suit in forest green, thrifted locally with Kaitlyn for two dollars, now being tailored to fit. Yet another task on the ever-evolving agenda.

Hello Hello All,

I’m writing to you at the tail end of what feels like the most wintery winter imaginable. It’s been exhausting, snowy, white, too damn cold, and filled with stretches of empty inboxes, new wars, and the continued unraveling and strengthening of the status quo.

You didn’t get a newsletter in February, but I did get to celebrate my birthday. It’s always a challenge to bring good energy and warmth into the middle of February. Over time, I’ve learned to stretch the celebration across the entire month, seeking out moments of joy, dancing, music, and good food during the deepest part of winter.

I took this photo just a day before my actual birthday, on February 10th. I’m 38 years old now :)

I’m quick to notice the white hairs coming through my beard. Aging feels more pronounced than ever.

Lately, I’ve been noticing more and more that the personality and profession I’ve been shaping, something I continue to explore through this newsletter around regeneration and real estate, has become fully integrated with who I am.

I remember resisting much of what it meant to be a realtor when I first entered the field in 2018. The reasons were clear. The culture didn’t reflect many of my creative values, personal values, or the more activist side of me. And yet, over the years, I’ve been molding myself into real estate, while real estate has slowly been molding itself back onto me in a way that now feels fitting.

It feels like I’m settling into something deeper than acceptance. There’s a kind of non separation happening, an integration of this professional identity that now feels inseparable from who I am.

And there’s real risk in that.

This kind of real estate still feels somewhat early and fragile. I only catch glimpses of what regeneration could look like in this work, and it’s still unclear whether this path, and my role within it, will ultimately be sustainable.

Among the many people I’ve encountered through mixers and community events, spaces that naturally hold the intersection of regeneration and real estate, I want to give a warm thank you to my paying clients. They see value in this work and are actively pursuing tangible, even if not yet realized, goals. They’ve helped carry me through this winter, and the years leading up to it.

I used to wonder why empty lots would sit untouched for years, why no one would just build something already. I’m beginning to understand the layers involved, preparation, site development, zoning, aligning capital, structuring agreements, equity shares, exit strategies.

Some of my family members are worried about me. Those closest to me question the validity and long term viability of trying to be a regenerative developer, consultant, and realtor.

And frankly, I understand why. This work hasn’t produced clear financial returns yet. There have been more false starts and failures than clean successes. But all of those attempts have accumulated into a kind of wisdom, or maybe stubbornness.

In my 15 years of living upstate, I’ve worked alongside many different communities, the young farmer generation, solar energy installers, tiny home builders, historic restoration crews in Hudson, and now real estate. I’ve almost always been part of a large team. But over the past couple years, as some of those wider communities have fallen away, the idea of Daniel Hason as a name that stands on its own in real estate has become more pronounced.

I’m proud of that. More accurately, I no longer feel the need to separate myself from it.

I’m genuinely interested in this work and feel lucky to be part of the conversations happening locally, conversations with people who are trying to untangle toxic market forces, address ecological challenges and housing justice issues, and rebalance a housing system that, in many ways, though not all, has gone awry.

In the effort to name and build healthier alternatives that are now emerging, a growing number of my clients and peers are beginning to explore housing co ops with limited equity models, as well as new ways to co invest in property through developments that reflect shared ownership.

There are also more explicit conversations around expanding who is considered a farmer, who can or should participate in an agrarian lifestyle, while securing land for personal food production and creating access for the next generation of farmers.

Commercial activity is no longer defined strictly by the sale of goods, but is increasingly paired with practices and spaces that support a slower pace of life and offer opportunities for healing and personal integration.

Alongside this, there are efforts to connect soil health with natural building materials, linking non toxic construction with personal well being and the broader economic health of the region.

Not many people within real estate spend much time thinking about this.

I daydream about them.

Much of this work moves against the grain of the status quo, but that friction also reveals where the system itself came from. Many of the separations we experience today, between housing and work, land and economy, development and community, were shaped during the Industrial Revolution, when domestic life and productive work were intentionally split apart.

In many ways, the experiments happening now feel like early attempts to weave some of those relationships back together.

In my twenties I remember really struggling with the question of what I would do with the rest of my days, bouncing from one workflow to another. Real estate, in many ways, does feel like a long standing path now, which I’m grateful for.

I’m not shocked by this either. My father was a house builder who became a landlord. My sisters have worked in property management and development. It was only a matter of time before the real estate bug captured my attention. And I’m glad to be doing it in my own style.

On my actual birthday I went on my favorite local walk. It’s a creek and riverside loop with a frozen waterfall just minutes from my house. I love being this close to the river.

The walk passes Zabriskie Falls, a small waterfall that was protected through a land conservation effort here in Dutchess County. The path then continues along the Hudson River and up toward Bard College.

I timed my arrival there for a tour of the Bard Art Museum’s new exhibition and to check out their newest Keith Haring Wing library.

It felt like such a quintessential Hudson Valley moment, a reminder of why I love this particular place so much. It holds both easy access to nature, waterfalls, rivers, quiet walks, and in that same hike I’m able to stumble into contemporary art and infrastructure, with a building named after a metropolitan NYC street artist.

As I entered the new wing of the library, I browsed the newer books proudly displayed on the shelves at the entrance. I gravitated toward anthropological and artists’ books.

I had thought that, on my birthday, I wouldn’t focus on work. I didn’t schedule a single meeting.

But I found this book there called Together: Towards Collaborative Living.

Together: Towards Collaborative Living, by Darinka Czischke, Marije Peute, and Sara Brysch, explores the revival of collaborative housing in Europe as a response to modern housing crises.

I quickly found myself pulled into a read that offered many of the diagnostics and alternatives for living among each other that I strive for with my clients and on behalf of the Hudson Valley. It also reminded me of the importance of paying attention to spaces outside of New York for inspiration.

Ideas like democratizing the role of the developer, reconsidering how money is invested in property, who receives equity, and how decisions are made. Ways that the built environment can encourage engagement while still providing privacy and dignity.

One quote that really stuck out was this:

“I would say that not living together is an anomaly. It’s normal, and it always was normal, to live in larger communities together.”
Ilka Ruby, curator, BK Talks, Project Together

While the labels we give to collaborative living forms may feel new, collective and shared housing actually has a long tradition. For most of human history, communal living was the norm across the world. Only after the Industrial Revolution in the late eighteenth century did the modern nuclear family and the single family home become dominant, built on a new separation between domestic life and productive work.

That separation feels like a metaphor for something many of us are sensing and slowly working through today.

Housing became detached from the places where things are made, grown, and created. Work became detached from the communities it impacts. And over time that separation has created powerful distances within people as well, between where we live, where we work, and where we feel responsible.

When the impacts of your work are directly visible to your neighbors, the choices you make tend to look very different.

But our current system often encourages the opposite, extract value here, invest somewhere else. Build wealth in one place, donate it back in another. It’s a model that rarely feels fully integrated.

I say this with respect for many wonderful people I meet working in real estate. There are tremendous salespeople helping people find homes and welcoming them into new communities. But the larger system still tends to reward transaction volume over long term, place based outcomes, and the profits are often reinvested far away from the places where those transactions happen.

What interests me most is the possibility of something more integrated.

A housing system where the value created in a place stays closer to that place. Where development, ownership, and community benefit are more closely tied together.

In many ways, that is the deeper thread I keep following in my work here in the Hudson Valley.

And I’m grateful to be playing an active role with clients moving toward these ends.

I’m still finding that, even after years of doing this work, there can be some ambiguity in how people understand or engage with what I offer. I’m continuing to work on clarifying that.

Recently, I’ve been working on a retainer basis with clients exploring these ideas, supporting zoning analysis, site visits, and early stage planning, as well as offering introductions, researching comparable projects, and helping clients assess feasibility and move toward clear go or no go decisions more efficiently.

In many ways, I’ve become a collaborative team member on a few development projects, and I’m looking to deepen that role further in the right contexts.

P.S. I’ve been forwarded a few invites and events that I plan to reshare on substack soon. Look out for a less self indulgent newsletter sometime soon.

P.P.S. We’re actively looking for a place to host our springtime Regenerative Housing Mixer. We’ve scouted a couple of locations in Dutchess County, but if you know of or have inclinations toward a space that could host around 50 people, I’d love to hear.

Hello Hello All,

I’ve been a bit slow to get this newsletter out, partly because I’ve been somewhat busy (which is a nice change for winter and real estate), but also because I’ve felt a little winter-stuck, as I sometimes do. That said, I’m really glad to be writing you as

everything is going to hell : (

I mean, everything has been just fine : )

We all know its somewhere in between. I think many of us have been strained by the news cycle, and I hope you’ve been able to find some reprieve within it.

I find myself seeking escapism, feeling it all, getting in sunny hikes when I can, and still feeling quite invigorated by the work I do here, which I try my best to translate through this newsletter. Even after five years of doing this work, I’m still met—by others and by myself—with questions about what my exact role is and who I work with. All of that, frankly, is still taking shape.

This thread is a written record of that unfolding.

So I want to share some gratitude for those who have been reading along and participating through online calls, in-person meetups, and private dialogues around personal projects and shared endeavors.

I named this newsletter Breaking Ground.

A client recently described their personal work as “above ground,” meaning it’s no longer underground, not hidden in the underbelly of culture, and not something vague or hard to point to. That phrase stayed with me. Much of my own work has felt very underground for years now.

For years, I’ve hosted meaningful conversations, facilitated and supported affordable housing efforts regionally, and been involved in farmland protection on certain land deals. But in many ways, I haven’t had a single visible project I could point to the way I once did in historic restoration.

No building.
No finished project.
No clear marker with my name attached to it.

Recently, I was asked where I could point to this work, and I realized I had nothing concrete to share—only conversations with clients and projects still taking shape.

That has been frustrating.

But I’m realizing that this invisible support—the knowledge sharing, relationship building, and early-stage guidance—is actually the core of my work. It’s where I’m most useful, and it’s something I’ve become genuinely skilled at.

No, I don’t yet have a single development that carries the label “regenerative.” And I’m learning that may not be the point. What feels more true is that I am helping projects take shape before they are visible—supporting people who are moving ideas toward reality and walking alongside others who are working toward similar goals. In many ways, our processes strengthen and inform one another.

This is the pre-development phase—the moment just before something comes into form. That’s where I’ve been leaning in.

At the same time, people understandably want to know what I’ve been up to. And much of my responsibility has required keeping certain things quiet for now.

I do this work with clients by previewing zoning potential, coaching them through visioning, raising funds, helping with branding and narrative, and introducing them to peers and organizations who may support them regionally. And still, there is very little I can physically show for it yet.

Writing that is a little painful. It has been five years of this work now. I am no longer just starting out, and I am learning patience along the way.

That said, I genuinely sense that this year feels different. I feel grateful to have begun the year with active clients who are ready to actualize thoughtful projects, and I am honored to be an earnest member of their teams.

I would warmly welcome a couple more earnest projects seeking to come into being. If you have been incubating an idea, or if we have connected in the past and the timing now feels right for momentum and relationship building, I would love to hear from you. It would be a joy to collaborate.

REGENERATIVE HOUSING MIXER

One of the clearer “above-ground” signs of this work has been the Regenerative Housing Mixers I’ve helped co-host, the first in October and the most recent one in Hudson. Both brought together builders, community activists, citizens, and real estate professionals into one room—a wide and thoughtful mix of people.

This last mixer was challenged by venue changes and last-minute snow, but the gathering still went on. Thank you to everyone who made it out.

Special thanks to Jared Spears for helping spark the dialogue, and heartfelt thanks to Hudson Harmonic for hosting us this time. Their newly renovated church is now dedicated to regenerative arts and culture in the Hudson Valley, which feels deeply aligned. I felt honored to be welcomed by their team.

They have a few events coming up on their calendar. I encourage you to check them out:

https://www.hudsonharmonic.com/

During the mixer, we explored “healthy alternatives” that are beginning to take shape in the region, with the hope that folks could meet one another who are working in this space. We shared time in conversation and centered our discussion around two main themes.

Growing regional supply

Our first conversation circle revolved around earth based and bio based materials that are natural, non toxic, energy efficient, and reduce long term costs. The group traced a “farm to frame” pathway across the value chain, much like farm to table but for buildings.

The hope is that our built environment, the production facilities, and the supply chains, along with the farms and soil they come from, are all nurtured along the way. There is a very clear overlap here with the regenerative agriculture field.

One of the clearest pain points that emerged was the lack of regional production facilities for these materials. This is an area where a lot of energy is gathering right now, and where groups are beginning to come together around new ways of connecting farmers and buildings.

Here’s to all buildings essentially being composotable in the future :)

Pooling resources

was our second dialogue, which aimed to bridge conversations between cooperative ownership structures, community land trusts, and those interested in co-purchasing property together in a community or cohousing model.

It was energizing to sense the different players in the room, to have them meet one another, and to feel a real desire to move away from traditional ownership models and toward more forms of “commoning,” where ownership is shared more widely and inherently encourages a collective approach to care and stewardship—much like a cooperative strives to be well-held by its members.

The Regenerative Housing Initiative has formed as an ad hoc group focused on community development, advocacy, and peer to peer connection. We hope you will be a part of this by joining as a member, participating in future events, and sharing your feedback. Thank you to everyone I’ve connected with since hosting these gatherings, and to those helping us imagine our next location. We have decided to host these mixers seasonally and are looking toward Dutchess County for the spring.

Shout out to Jared Spears, who helped spark this recent iteration of convening. Together, we are fiscally sponsored by the Good Work Institute.

If you have attended a mixer and feel moved to support the next one, we now have a way to accept donations, either as a one time gift or through monthly support.

I have a goal of having a few subscribers here become members or contribute in this way. Please consider supporting by clicking the link below. any amount greatly appreciated, please take the five minutes :)

https://goodworkinstituteprojects.app.neoncrm.com/forms/hv-regenerative-housing

MORE ABOVEGROUND

Recently, I had a conversation with the folks at TapRoot Land Trust in Kingston alongside a client of mine. We explored potential paths for mutual support around a retreat and housing development project that is trying to hold two things at once: permanent housing with full equity and limited appreciation through land trust structures.

This project is also exploring ways to preserve farmland and offer access to local farmers. It’s a model that brings housing and agriculture into relationship, giving residents direct access to soil and a different way of living.

During that conversation, TapRoot shared an example of a limited-equity housing model already taking shape in Kingston: the James Street Housing Coop.
https://participate.ulstercountyny.gov/21-elizabeth

It is wonderful to see this beginning to take shape in our region. The Hudson Valley, while home to many beautiful farmhouses and historic cities, has not yet truly benefited from contemporary shared-equity housing models. These are only just starting to emerge through the work of land trusts.

In contrast, places like Vermont have long championed models like this. Through the Champlain Housing Trust, roughly one in eight households in Burlington now lives in permanently affordable, limited-equity housing.

It is a reminder that these approaches are not experimental. They are proven, and they can become part of the mainstream when they are supported over time.

ENDing

I wanted to close by sharing a few videos that recently found their way to me and felt connected to the themes of this work.

The first is a short documentary that surfaced in my YouTube algorithm. It offers a hyper-local look at the natural biodiversity of our region—waterways, insects, birds, and the people who celebrate them. It is an easy and beautiful watch, and a reminder of just how rich this place really is.

The second is a video from Caleb Simpson, who tours people’s homes in New York City. In this one, the conversation turns toward development rights, regulations, and restrictions, and reflects on the enormous complexity of building in NYC—and really anywhere in America. There is a vast web of rules that shapes how and where we can build, for good reasons and often very bureaucratic ones too.

That video brought me back to an experience I had years ago in Brazil. In 2016, I visited an intentional community deep in the jungle that had chosen its location partly because building codes were far more relaxed. They had built their community in a unique way—one that was not strictly to code, but still held reverence and respect for the place they were in.

I was lucky to spend two weeks there with a cohort of volunteers, staying together in a shared house. It was a deep experience—at times it even felt a bit cult-like in the woods—but nonetheless a powerful reference point for something alternative that I was able to witness firsthand. One of my favorite writers actually visited there sometime after me and referenced it in the article below. If you’re curious, you may find a more articulate perspective there:

https://charleseisenstein.org/essays/source-temple-and-the-great-reset/

Much of what I do still feels underground, but that feeling is beginning to shift. This year feels like a year of breaking ground—of slowly bringing this work into clearer form. There is an obvious atmosphere of strain, chaos, and polarization taking on new shapes and extremes in the news and under our current administration. I hope you are able to find some solace in your days, some rigor in your work, and ways to have fun along the way.

What I still refer to as regenerative real estate feels to me like both a political and spiritual stance, a proactive antidote to the hyper-individualism and toxic power structures that have become so dominant. Models that reverse the trend of individually parceled-off lots, such as co-ownership and housing developments integrated with conservation easements—feel like part of that same impulse. Working toward housing that can one day return to the soil it came from feels connected to this as well.

They attempt to unwind the toxic patterns of how we inhabit both land and community, and instead offer a reconciliation—not only with the places we live, but with each other as well.

Hello Hello All,

Hope you’ve been well as winter settles in. It’s that time of year when I begin to idolize Florida again. A very seasonal idolization, and I think a very New York / Northeastern one too. I don’t think I actually like Florida all that much, but this time of year it jumps to the best place on earth somehow sometimes

I know winter aint all bad, the snow we’ve been getting has been very welcome. If it’s going to be cold, it might as well look like a winter wonderland. I’m sharing an image below from one of my favorite spots just close to my house. Feeling lucky to have this nearby.

I hope your Thanksgiving in November was a good one. Mine was… not great. Good old COVID-19 had me downbad for over a week. My first time knowingly catching it, and it gave me a whole new respect for the virus. I spent most of the holiday day alone, resting, and was generously delivered a plate of food from my nearby in-laws, for which I was very grateful. <3

an image of me and my best friend the couch which held me down, in addition to my lovely lady fiance kaitlyn :)

Subscribe now

COMMUNITY

I want to give a real shout-out to the local housing and land stewardship ecosystem/scene specifically in Ulster County right now. It feels strange to call it a “scene,” but in its own way it has very much become a community of mine. A place where I see close friends, continued acquaintances, and peers doing genuinely thoughtful work.

In October, we hosted a regenerative housing mixer at the Good Work Institute in Kingston that felt deeply successful in the quality of conversation and connection. That was followed by a wonderful public gathering and launch of the TapRoot Community Land Trust in Midtown Kingston, hosted by Weston and Noé Delcid. Shortly after came a full-day farmer housing meetup hosted by Jules Farr and supported by Glynwood, and then another gathering and fundraiser with the Kingston Land Trust. All of this unfolded within just a few weeks of each other.

To sit among so many people thinking not only about housing, but about how housing intersects with land, agriculture, and intentionally designed holding strategies that can antidote toxic market forces has been meaningful for me. These gatherings, in many ways, have become a sense of community. A recurring ritual of people I get to engage with, be inspired by, get annoyed with, and annoy as well. Thank you all for showing up.

I’m glad to participate.

Cooperative Housing

I’ve been learning, sharing, and hearing more about cooperatives and the role they play in the housing and real estate ecosystem. Co-ops have long been a mainstay in New York City, where cooperative housing has played a significant and complicated role in the city’s housing history.

I’ve also been hearing more active conversations and hopes about bringing some of that cooperative economics and relational way of housing into our upstate context as well. I have clients, and know peers, actively pursuing these goals.

One of the newer introductions I made during this recent stretch of meetings in Ulster County was to a woman named Joanna Rudolph. She shared that she’s been working on a documentary film exploring the history of Dorie Miller, New York City’s first unsegregated housing cooperative. She followed up by sending along a short, roughly ten-minute teaser, which I wanted to share here with you as well.

Interestingly, and not surprisingly, housing co-ops and community land trusts share similar origins. In many cases, both emerged as collective responses to exclusion and discrimination, often led by Black and Brown communities coming together under significant systemic pressure. These were not abstract financial tools, but relational responses to scarcity and harm, people banding together to create stability where the broader system had failed them.

https://www.doclands.com/docpitch-co-op-kids-of-dorie-miller

The Co-op: The Kids of Dorie Miller is a feature-length documentary film that follows a New Yorker as she explores her family’s roots in NYC’s first unsegregated housing co-op and confronts her prospects for homeownership in NYC.

Currently in production, the team is fundraising to complete four days of filming and to start post production. To hear more from the director and protagonist Paulina Thomas (formerly Davis), watch the pitch video with teaser here. Follow the film’s progress on Instagram (@thecoopdocumentary) and sign-up for its newsletter at this link.

Other ways to support:

1) Make a tax-deductible donation to the film here via the project’s fiscal sponsor New York Women in Film and Television.

2) Email Joanna Rudolph at thecoopdocumentary@gmail.com if you know of organizations (e.g. co-ops, land trusts, lenders) doing good work in the affordable homeownership space. The filmmakers want to connect with those organizations to build community on this issue.

Above are the words directly from the team behind the doc, they agreed I can share this clip with you and hope to connect with others working in this field. They are also raising funds to complete their documentary. I really hope some of yall connect with the team :)

Regenerative Real Estate (Still)

As the title of this Substack suggests, this is still very much a regenerative real estate thread.

When people ask what I do for work, I usually say I work in real estate. If there’s time, I’ll add the regenerative part. That addition still tends to invite curiosity, questions, and a “What does that even mean?” which feels like a good place to start.

Lately, I’ve made a small shift in how I “define’ the work. Instead of leading by pointing out the negative patterns in the industry, I’ve been trying to simply acknowledge that they exist.

It’s a subtle, but meaningful shift for me.

I work in real estate while acknowledging that there are deeply embedded forces at play that create real harm. Toxic market dynamics that drive unaffordability. The downsides of gentrification. The amount of waste created through endless renovation cycles. None of this is particularly controversial anymore, but it still often goes unnamed.

And yet, the ongoing refusal by much of the industry to even acknowledge harm continues to shape how real estate is experienced and perceived. That silence, more than any single bad actor, is part of why so many people feel distrust toward the real estate field.

Many of the most successful agents and teams are still primarily highlighting instagram friendly design (yes that farmhouse is indeed beautiful), or showcasing a single bottom line, how much over asking a property sold for and how many we sold.

That narrow focus leaves little room to talk about the broader impacts of the work.

This morning, I was surprised, a bit relieved, and also skeptical to see a sponsored post on Instagram from Zillow, of all places. It led me to a newer account called @ZillowForChange, which appears to be naming some of the historical and structural forces that have contributed to our current housing mess.

I welcome any “within industry” shift that moves us away from pretending everything is fine. Many local and national brokerages have yet to publicly acknowledge these issues at all, so it’s notable to see Zillow making this kind of statement.

So what are the healthy alternatives? I’m not spelling out a neat list here. But if you’ve been reading along over the past few years, you probably have a sense of what keeps getting circled back to. I’ll spare the you the world salad :)

I’ll end by abruptly and subtly including an invite to our next regenerative housing mixer in January. It’ll be a place where we get to collectively explore what healthier alternatives seem to be working, or at least trying to happen, within our sphere, with full acknowledgment of the issues at hand. As noted through the co-op documentary, naming these issues and being loud about them often helps drive new and innovative ways forward.

The hope of the mixer is that we get to share individually, meet one another, be in community, and look for places where our intentions overlap and begin to exponentiate. The building we’ll be convening in speaks directly to healthy alternatives as well

I remember a time when I worried not enough people would show up to events I was co-hosting. That problem has recently reversed. Lol. The link below is for the next mixer, and I hope you earnest readers here find your way onto the list, the event launched just a few days ago and is already filling up quickly.

January Mixer Invite
Please RSVP using the link below to secure your spot! Thanks to Jared Spears for putting together such a wonderful invite and co-hosting.

https://partiful.com/e/NMXE0b7D3WyuNCa85gyO?source=share

think that’s it for now, hope yalls holidays are wonderful and restful!

As always, feel free to reach out :)

I hope this finds you well. I have been a little quiet here. Not because I had nothing to say, but because it has been so beautiful outside that I kept choosing the sun instead of the screen. I brought my laptop with me a few times to write from certain benches and overlook points, but that felt a little ridiculous. So there was no October newsletter.

Life has been full. Client work, local events, statewide gatherings, and somewhere in the midst of it all, my fiancée and I finally secured a wedding venue :)

I have also had real estate conversations unfolding right at my dining room table. I am in the middle of exploring a possible seller-financing agreement with my landlord, who has been wonderful to us. Wish us luck as we continue to figure it out. There is a lot in motion. Many moving parts, a fair amount of complexity, and honestly, a lot of love.

All of this has brought me back to this idea of enoughness.

Do I have enough clients. Am I making enough money. Is there enough housing. Am I doing enough.

Some of us, are living with not enough in very real ways. And still, we make it work because we have to. Others seem to have more than enough and still cannot stop collecting, still benefiting from a system that rewards those who already have. And then there are people who do not have enough across the board, who can barely get started, while things like Medicaid and public benefits keep getting stripped away.

I keep thinking back to Occupy Wall Street. So many of the 99 percent were doing our absolute best to point to this simple truth. That the 1 percent, those economically on top, were holding such a tight grip on wealth and power that the rest of us were left to fight over what was objectively not enough. Not enough money, not enough social support, not enough room to breathe. This belief that we can all climb our way out through competition alone sounds inspiring at first, but left unchecked it becomes harmful. It keeps compounding.

And when I bring this closer to home, literally, it lands in housing. Real estate has been folded so deeply into capitalism that the places we live are treated first as assets, not as homes. Shelter, belonging, and stability are tied to market value, investment portfolios, speculation. Our houses become someone else’s wealth strategy. And when that goes unchecked, we end up with exactly what we are seeing now. Fewer people owning more. More people renting indefinitely. Homes treated as commodities rather than places of care.

I am not someone who wants to dive too deep into metrics or economic charts. But it is clear that while many of us are asked to make do with less, a few continue to compound more. And yet, even in all of that, I can say I have enough in many ways. I do not in others. Both things are true.

So maybe the question shifts from do we have enough to what, or who, are we measuring against. In regenerative work, people talk about widening the idea of capital. Not only financial capital, but social capital, cultural health, ecological health, spiritual well-being. Moving beyond a single or even triple bottom line.

And still, even when we expand what we measure, it can feel like not enough.

Market Forces

When I go to networking events, I usually write Regenerative Real Estate on my name tag. People ask what that means. I often say something like I point out the negative patterns in the real estate industry and help introduce healthier alternatives. And honestly, that is slowly becoming an exhausting stance, always pointing to what is wrong. I am holding some openness for a new way of saying it, a new way of being in it.

If I am at a dinner and do not feel like explaining, I just say I work in real estate and the conversation immediately turns to the market. As if the market is like the weather, something we have to brace for, something that arrives whether we want it to or not. As if it is this separate force that controls us, pushes us out of town, raises rents, decides who stays and who leaves.

And in many ways it does.

But I also believe we have the ability to shape markets, not only react to them. I was recently speaking with Taproot Community Land Trust in Kingston. Their work is simple but not easy. They take land off the speculative market. People pool money, agree on limits, and hold land in common so it cannot be flipped for profit.

Worker cooperatives, land trusts, community-owned spaces, they are reminders that markets are not fixed things. They are designed. They are cultural decisions. So if you are out there reading this, know that we are not only at the mercy of market forces. In small ways we can shift how the market moves through us. We are allowed to resist, to redirect, to redesign.

Also, wanting to share the TapRoot Land Trust will be hosting a community mixer soon. I’ll be there, know some of you will as well. see yous soon

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/taproot-community-housing-mixer-tickets-1859092117569

Also if youre really needing a dose of market forces, and data surrounding it. please check out Patterns for Progresses Q3 report. lots of helpful realtime info there

https://www.pattern-for-progress.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/10/HV-Q3-Market-Report-2025.pdf

Cooperative Summit

A few weeks ago I went up to Albany for the statewide Cooperative Business Summit. I was surprised to learn just how many cooperatives exist across New York, and also how few I am actually in relationship with here in the Hudson Valley.

Worker cooperatives widen ownership. Instead of profit moving upward into a smaller and smaller group of hands, it circulates among the people doing the work, or sometimes even the people receiving the service. It is not a perfect model, but it is a resilient one. During the pandemic, many cooperatives held together longer than traditional businesses. People did not lay each other off as quickly, because the workers were also the owners, and the community was not something external, it was them.

It was another good reminder me that capital is not just money. It is relationships, skills, land, tools, trust and indebtedness . Also hopeful by the continuous whispers im hearing locally around cooperative forms of investment and housing models. if this is of particular interest to you, please reach me would love to discuss/learn more bout your co-op ideas

Was able to snag a photo of me before a wonderful group shot

Event Reflections: Regenerative Housing

In early October we hosted a Regenerative Housing gathering at the Good Work Institute in Kingston. It was informal and beautiful with roughly 60 attendees. packed house! Thank you to Sevan Lloyd Pack, Jared Spears, and Skye Rizzuto for helping bring it to life :)

People came from all over the region. Once we settled in, we split into three small groups based on themes we felt sit at the heart of regenerative housing

Housing Enoughness

Ecological Building

Connected Communities

What struck me most was how many people who needed to meet finally did. Conversations that had been floating on their own started to weave together. There was a real sense of curiosity, relief, and support in the room. Those with enough, met those perhaps without enough and saught mutual support. At one point I heard someone say we do not have to wait for billionaires to figure this out for us. It landed in a big way.

And in that same breath, here is the honest part. We are seeking donations to help keep these gatherings going and give this work just a little more steadiness and support. Right now it is very ad hoc. It has worked, but we are reaching the limits of what volunteer time can hold.

I feel pulled in many directions after these meet-ups. People ask for support, perspective, time, and I care deeply about being available. I set aside hours each month to volunteer, but those fill quickly. So I have had to either say no or create some kind of boundary or compensation so the work can stay honest and sustainable. If you have felt that from me, I hope this provides some context.

I want to keep doing this work and I want it to be held with integrity. I also see people in nonprofit roles being paid to have these conversations every day. It has been a long-time dream of mine to feel some kind of institutional or collective support around this work. Maybe something like that can grow from these gatherings.

We are planning another one in mid January. It will remain free to attend. Space has been generously offered again by the Good Work Institute.

If you feel moved to contribute, or know someone who might, we would love to connect. And if you are someone who finds yourself closer to the top 1 percent, or simply have the means and feel called to support this movement in a real way, please reach out. I would love to have an informal conversation and see what kind of long-term support structure could emerge from this.

Becoming Regenerative

Back in 2020 I started using the #regenerativerealestate and felt pretty alone. I was just beginning. Over time I started to find others asking similar questions and approaching this work from different directions. Builders, planners, land stewards, organizers, designers.

There has been a quiet community around this work, shaped in part by the Regenesis Institute, by the work of the late Carol Sanford, and now held again through the Regenerative Nexus community. I have been part of helping spark some of these conversations, especially around the question of what regenerative actually means. Not as a brand or a label, but as a practice, a way of seeing, a way of working.

If that question feels alive for you, what is regenerative really, know you are not alone. There are so many of us sitting with that same question, wrestling with it, trying to live it. You would be in good company, and you might find a few of your assumptions gently challenged.

I have copied their invitation below for the first session happening next week. I plan to be there.

***you do have to join a “Circle” community and once in, you’ll be promted to make a profile and then have access"***

Are you curious about what it means to be regenerative?

We are extending an invitation for you to join us in a series of monthly sessions geared toward those who are largely unfamiliar with regenerative practice but intrigued to learn more, one small bite at a time.

If you:
believe that profound changes require an evolution of our collective mindsets and worldviews and are unsure of how to go about it

enjoy playing in the sandbox of ideas around how to shift our culturally conditioned ways

are frustrated with the inherent limitations of sustainability initiatives and metrics

experience profound disconnects from the dominant culture that surrounds us all and know humanity needs to grow up


wish to build your capabilities to more effectively understand complexity in systemic ways

Then these sessions might be just what you’ve been waiting for.

Who are we?
Regenerative Nexus emerged to enable system-change-makers to step into new levels of capability and “affectiveness” in creative new ways. We serve this purpose by tending to the reintegration of projects, learning, and communities. Under-supported projects, the evolution of how education works in our society, and the communities intertwined with both, all need one another to be regenerated.

Join our community to engage in these sessions.

Cost: Donation to Regenerative Nexus (a 501©3)
Link: https://regenexus.circle.so/join?invitation_token=4f39a115b2479e85b20de282e0a4cae01ef392ca-5ed7c0d0-4d16-4e6d-b750-f46ea2eb9adb
Date: Wednesday November 12
Time: 11:30 - 1:00pm EDT

Closing

Right, I have more I could say, but honestly I am tired of writing and you maybe tired of reading. I mostly enjoy this process though, and I hope these reflections and invitations do something for you.

Since last night, New York City has a major new political player in Zohran Mamdani. I am for it, I am for him, and at the same time I feel completely disenfranchised by politics. It is not usually the lens I see through, but the political sphere And the work I am in, if I had to name it, probably leans in the direction of democratic socialism.

Communism and socialism have carried a bad reputation since the 1940s, for real reasons. A lot went wrong. But we have also given capitalism and free market forces a long runway, and it has squeezed our communities, our culture, and our natural resources. So I am hopeful that a new, modern take on democratic socialism might offer something that works for more of us. We will see.

P.S. I realize this thread is the main connection point I have with some of you. To those I end up seeing in person, thank you for letting me know you read this. I recently asked ChatGPT to make me a flyer as an experiment. This is what it came up with.

Lol. I do not look like that. And yes, even these words are a bit ChatGPT-filtered. Still me, but AI-shaped. and if your abusing chat gpt like i have, please stop.

Hope we get to talk in real life too. reach out!

Hope your summer has been more than good.

I was lucky to do some traveling to Colorado and recently hosted a small gathering on family land here in the Catskills. The end of summer is always bittersweet, but still cause for celebration.

While traveling I had a new subscriber sign up for a monthly payment, yes, that is an option, and it reminded me of the few of you who do support this thread. Thank you to those who do and thanks for anyone reading along. If you do have some means and want to support this newsletter, please consider subscribing below. There’s no paywall here, all content is shared with everyone, but if you feel inclined to subscribe monthly it’s certainly welcome!

I’ve also been posting more on Instagram, with captions probably too long for the platform, but they’ve sparked good engagement, new people, and different ways of sharing this work. In that process, someone reached out wondering if the work I’m doing is “moonlighted” by another career or job. Basically, is this regenerative real estate stance of mine a way of making money, or just a passion project? The answer is, it’s both and a fine line. I could certainly be making more money if I rushed to sell more as the end goal. Frankly, I’ve wished I was making more monies doing this work, but I have enough, and I’m making enough. Enough money and enoughness is a weird one, lol, do you have enough?

A friend once told me, at least you sleep well at night not being a sellout. Which is true, except for the nights I lose sleep because I’m not selling more. That tension is part of this work….

The definition of regenerative real estate is always changing, but for me right now it sits here: I point out the negative patterns in the industry and help introduce healthier alternatives. Of course, this is subjective, and that’s part of the point. It naturally leads to curiosity and discussion. Regeneration is a living question.

Most of the time these conversations open into topics like sustainable energy, affordability, and community. Or straight to solar panels and wind energy—like clockwork. But then the deeper questions start surfacing too: why do we need these things in the first place, and what are the nuances behind them? Those questions highlight the clear signals of harm in the industry, which in turn leads to imagining healthier alternatives—non-toxic building materials, unique equity holdings, co-ops, and land trusts, to name a few quick examples.

I operate in this space to raise awareness, but also as a consultant and realtor. Commissions and retainers are how I get paid, and I’m still learning a thing or two about development fees and other ways I can pragmatically align with projects and clients.

That said, I often sit with more capacity than I know what to do with. I’m grateful for the work I have in motion, but I also have a desire for more—more projects, more momentum. Being an entrepreneur in this economy isn’t easy. If what I’ve been sharing resonates, reach out. Let’s work together.

As I was driving back from the Catskills, I passed a large billboard from a brokerage I won’t name. In the biggest font it read: “We Sell More.”

I laughed. On the one hand, it teased me for not selling enough. On the other, I knew how hollow that tagline really is. “We sell more, and that’s all we do” is working with blinders on—blinders to what only selling more does. It’s an oversimplification, running with market forces and a single bottom line, something we all recognize but struggle to shift away from.

Hudson Valley Regenerative Housing (Kingston)

A conversation has been bubbling up around natural building, community development, and housing affordability. I’ll be co-hosting an evening on these themes and really hope many of you will join us. This most likely turn into a more regular event. There will be light facilitation to make introductions smoother and to help you dive into the conversations you’re meant to be having.

This work, in my opinion, comes better with numbers. The culture of it depends on mutual support, and this event is hopefully another place for us to convene around shared ideas and ethos.

Please do me a favor and RSVP if you plan to attend, or let us know if you cannot, using the link below. Having a headcount and a better understanding of our audience will be very helpful. Link below to register!

https://partiful.com/e/KEmtiBJizrEM03sNfYfO

Hempcrete workshop (Kerhonkson)

A new friend in this work will be hosting a hands-on event over in Kerhonkson. I’ll be down in the city visiting family, but I think you should consider attending and meeting folks there. If you’re looking for a more hands-on experience sooner rather than later, join North River’s workshop on hempcrete. The session will be hosted this Saturday by Samantha of North River Architecture and natural builder Jeff Gagnon.

On Orchards/Agriculture and the people who tend them

I’ve been circling around the health of orchards in our region, and the reality of their decline. The same is true for farms more broadly, caught in an industrial culture that prizes monoculture as efficient, but ultimately depletes soil quality, the fruit itself, and the surrounding environment.

My notion of regenerative real estate pulls directly from the regenerative agriculture movement. I won’t go too deep here into the decline of orchards or possible solutions, but a short documentary from the local journalism group The Daily Catch recently caught my attention. It highlights the struggles of a pear operation and the damage caused by a particular larva that has taken hold in our fruit systems.

It’s just 12 minutes long, and worth a watch, a hyper-local look into some of the most important and vulnerable agricultural systems around us.

Hudson Valley Sustainable Fashion Week (Rose Hill Orchard)

I’m excited to share an event close to me and the loveliest person I know. My fiancée has been hosting a sustainable fashion show at Rose Hill Orchards here in Red Hook, now in its third year. Each edition has grown in creativity and presence, and the looks this year are truly elevated.

On a personal note, yes, I recently got engaged :) I feel lucky and grateful to be deepening into this relationship and the community around us. Since the show’s beginning, I’ve had the privilege of supporting it in small ways, and I’ll be helping again this year.

This gathering takes place in a reimagined orchard, an inspiring setting that pairs beauty, sustainability, and agriculture. With Rose Hill’s stunning grounds, excellent list of drinks, it’s always a memorable evening, bring out your latest fantastic look!

Consider purchasing a VIP ticket, the monies will be more than appreciated and supportive. I’ll personally be handling any and all VIP ticket holders that evening :)

-VIP Tickets
- Hudson Valley Sustainable Fashion Week Website

NY COOPERATIVE SUMMIT (ALBANY)

Last invite for now: I signed up for the New York State Cooperative Summit happening in Albany this October. Cooperative ownership has been showing up in a lot of conversations lately.

Fun fact, I have never actually been part of a cooperative myself. I have much to learn, even as I find myself helping bring a few into being. Regeneration and innovation, I am realizing, require that kind of building while learning. A couple of the projects I am involved in plan to merge business and housing under cooperative ownership.

I am heading to Albany to learn, connect, and share what I can. Consider joining, it should be a good one.

https://newyorkcooperative.org/ (ticket link)

Right….thanks for reading along here. more to come soon, glad to put some energy between you and I via this newsletter. i hope to find you in-person at one of these events soon :)

A couple months back, I shared some reflections on my beginnings, initiations, and frustrations in regenerative real estate. That letter was called The Big Apples, inspired by a local orchard, and negative patterns I’ve seen take hold on the place.

Since then, I’ve been putting out a quiet call for partnership—or just listening for what others are sensing in this space. I spoke with folks at long-standing ag land trusts and learned that nearly 90% of farmland in the U.S. is held by farmers with no heirs.. I heard firsthand from heirs about why they walked away from family land. I also heard from landowners who recently purchased portioned off retired orchards and are now wondering why they can’t find anyone to operate the acreage/trees they just bought.

I awkwardly tried to spark cross-state collaborations toward something more regional in scope-but was left with, what? Maybe just a reckoning. The reality that small-scale orchards are struggling. And that’s mostly the story right now.

I learned that sometimes, even prominent CEOs will buy a farm and knowingly operate it at a loss. Love Apple Farm in Columbia County is one such place. Once purchased by a real estate developer committed to the region, it still couldn’t escape the financial strain. After years of trying to make it work, the farm recently closed for good after failing to sell.

Love Apple was originally founded in 1969 by Chris and Rande Loken. In 2012, Francis Greenburger and Isabelle Autones took over. As Greenburger told News10:
“The farm is closing because it has not been profitable for over ten years. Current costs for operating a small family apple farm and farm stand exceed revenue.”

For context—Greenburger is also the mind and money behind Art Omi in Ghent, a sculpture park that offers free, open access to art and land. Think Storm King, but more intimate. Art Omi is now expanding again, with a new site in Chatham featuring artist-designed pavilions….

A surprising part of this summer was the launch of Sky High Farm’s latest project. The nonprofit—founded by an artist i learned—transformed a former apple cold storage facility in Germantown into a surreal gallery space, complete with mirrored floors and live trees growing indoors. The installation is aptly named “Trees Never End and Houses Never End.”

https://brooklynrail.org/2025/07/artseen/sky-high-farm-biennial-trees-never-end-and-houses-never-end/

It was a strange/awesome repurposing of farm infrastructure—once meant to preserve fruit, now inviting reflection.

So why orchards? Why am I still talking about them?

Because they spoke to me first. There’s something about their perennial nature that mirrors the longform development of place. Buildings. Homes. Communities. These things ask for patience. For cycles. And yet, too often, housing and agriculture feel like oil and water.

I’m still sitting with the hope that they can not only coexist—but actually strengthen one another. That’s the heart of efforts like the Hudson Valley Alliance for Housing & Conservation: the belief that human development doesn’t need to come at the expense of land.

Lately, I’ve been lucky to work on a few projects sitting right in that in-between space. They’re testing out new models for housing and land access—with ties to equity strategies like housing co-ops, integrated business ventures, shared coliving spaces….

And yes, they’re agricultural-forward. The region seems to be calling for it. I’m grateful to my clients who are not only open and malleable, but also actively responding to this call to reconnect housing and land.

This kind of work—investing in housing and land at once—feels deeply aligned. It brings soil health, economic resilience, and quality of life into one conversation.

I’ve been holding both ends of the spectrum: visioning and coaching on one side, and the nuts-and-bolts of zoning, engineering, and due diligence on the other. It’s been an education. Grounding. And, in its own way hopeful.

the conversation around farmer housing, housing farmers, houses on farms, farms with houses continues :)

To close, I’m resharing a new listing and farm which i was lucky to tour and promised to pass on once it hit the market.

Earlier this spring, I had the chance to walk a significant orchard that holds a lot of the same beauty and tension I’ve been talking about. The owner’s done a great job fixing up the old farmhouse. There’s a creek on site, sunset views, and rows of trees still producing fruit.

The little storefront along Route 9H has been closed since the start of the pandemic, but it’s not hard to imagine it opening up again—serving the area in some simple, meaningful way.

I’m sharing it here as one of the ways I know how to support—putting a place like this back into circulation, giving it a shot at a new chapter. Maybe someone out there feels the pull. Maybe it’ll surprise us.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/5498-Route-9h-Hudson-NY-12534/452761067_zpid/

I’ll end a bit awkwardly with a meme that came across my algorithm

as always feel free to reach out, i;ve really been enjoying helping those move forward earnestly, productively, and i guess i’ll keep calling it regeneratively with their real estate projects. if you have and idea in mind, land, or would like to figure out ways we can help each other. reach out :) DanielHasonRE@gmail.com

Thanks for all the feedback I received from my last newsletter, “The Big Apples.” I want to share more of the trajectory and story behind some of the places & threads I mentioned. One thing I’ve noticed about myself, I’m really, really good at noticing issues, patterns, and calling out what’s not working. That lens came through pretty strongly in the last newsletter.

But another important role is asking: What’s next? What are the healthier alternatives to what we’re currently seeing? Since that last send, I’ve been introduced to conversations and folks around those more healthy stories, and I’ll be sharing more on that soon.

For now, I want to quickly pass along an invite to a wonderful in-person gathering happening here in Kingston, NY.

The Hudson Valley Alliance for Housing and Conservation is hosting another event in Ulster County, this time spotlighting some of the powerful work the Kingston Land Trust has been doing and their land in black hands program

Link to register below

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfEh4pTizeVmc-axTxs0llufYQxOZWa1DzDyPY_RyFtF0p-Wg/viewform

I’ve sent this to a few of you already, but it felt right to share more broadly. I haven’t hosted anything myself in a while, the energy hasn’t quite flowed that way, but I’m so grateful this event is happening. It feels like a much-needed chance to gather around a hopeful narrative, right here in our own backyard.

Hope to see you there and look forward to the inspiration

Till soon

-Daniel

p.s. please do register on the link above so they can get a head count for the afternoon. If a direct location isn’t sent to you, please follow-up with me. happy to share details :)

At the beginning of my real estate career, I spent a couple of years in a traditional real estate office starting in 2018, where the main goal was selling as much as possible. It was transactional and narrow—reinforcing the same systems that continue to cause harm politically, environmentally, and socially. Coming from a background in regenerative agriculture and historic craftsmanship, I found the culture in most real estate offices surprisingly shallow. They were filled with wonderful people, but with a mission to serve the bottom line—one that, in real estate, often leads to specific and widespread negative outcomes, which I began tracking more and more. I even have my very first (and very stale) headshot from 2019—no white hairs in my beard yet. I’ll include it here for a little throwback laugh

By 2020, I had learned the mechanics of how real estate works—and was eventually white-knuckling my way through it. The conversations that felt important to me kept falling flat in my real estate office. I was burned, and bummed out. That’s when I started sensing a need for another way forward.

One place stood out—an old orchard near where I was living. I drove by it all the time. A lot of people do.

I started thinking about it seriously that same year. It felt like more than just a property—it held so many overlapping tensions I kept seeing but rarely heard named out loud: ecological damage, stalled land transitions, worker exploitation/immigrant labor, housing decay, the limitations of conservation easements, and market dynamics that leave places like this behind. Layered into all of that is a long and unresolved racial history—who’s been allowed to own land, who’s worked it under harsh conditions, and who’s been systematically excluded from the benefits. This orchard carried all those contradictions at once.

At the time, my focus was really just on this orchard. I wasn’t trying to make a statement about the region. I just kept returning to this one place. It felt like something I could rally energy around. A way to gather people, test ideas, and see if a different kind of future for land was possible—starting right here.

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I first talked about it with a close friend, then shared it with the Hudson Incubator, a local entrepreneurship group. I wasn’t totally sure what I wanted to do. But I began using the orchard as a kind of case study—an example of how regenerative thinking and real estate might be brought together to approach land differently.

Then the pandemic hit. Everything went online. And in that strange stillness, I started meeting people who were asking similar questions online and nationally—about land, housing, ecology, and what might come after the systems we’ve relied on begin to crack.

That’s when I connected with the team behind Latitude. Over the next few years, we built language, relationships, and a small but committed community around those ideas. We helped others find their way into the conversation, too.

I’ve since stepped away from Latitude. These days, my work is more local—closer to home in the Hudson Valley, more hands-on. And five years later, that same orchard that first inspired my thinking continues to poke at me.

Over the years, I’ve toured the orchard many times. I’ve seen different realtors list it on Zillow, met with some of them along the way. I even got proactive and helped coalesce a group of neighbors to collectively make an offer. For various specific and good reasons—which I won’t go into—it didn’t move forward.

On paper, it checks a few important boxes: strong location, visibility, steady car traffic. But it’s tangled.

There’s a conservation easement on the property—a two-sided sword. It gave the farmer a much-needed cash infusion and ensures the land stays in agriculture in perpetuity, which sounds great in theory. But in practice, these easements can be overly rigid. They rarely make room for nuance around how agriculture is practiced. There’s little distinction between chemical-intensive monoculture and regenerative land stewardship. That rigidity can make it hard to evolve a place like this into something more sustainable, more adaptive, more community-serving. That being said, I still admire most easements and believe they’ve been—and still are—critical in protecting landscapes and farmland.

The worker housing on the orchard is in rough shape. The farmhouse is historic and beautiful but falling apart—still a ripe candidate for historic tax credits. The apples are part of a long-standing monoculture, grown with pesticides in depleted soil. Reversing that degradation will take time and intention. It's easily one of the biggest conundrums in the scenario.

The original farmer is no longer able to care for the land. Some of it has already been subdivided and sold. A few old apple trees still hang on between houses. And unlike vegetable CSAs or flower farms, young farmers aren’t lining up to take over orchards. The next chapter here isn’t obvious.

Then earlier this year, after basically letting the place drift from my attention, I got a few texts. Someone was asking about that orchard again. Around the same time, I heard about another one just up the road—same story: declining trees, shuttered infrastructure, a seller ready to move on.

I toured that second orchard with a realtor, who quickly passed me off to the owner—a farmer who walked me through the property and showed me parcels that had been sold off, areas they hoped luxury housing might be built, and barns they no longer knew what to do with. An apple economy I knew little about suddenly felt like something I was being asked to help with. And the questions I’d been sitting with came rushing back. Who’s going to take on these kinds of places? What happens when no one does?

Now, there are some glimmers—orchards taking new steps. Stone Ridge Orchard and Rose Hill come to mind. But the majority of the industry still feels stuck.

I don’t have answers—just a growing sense that something obvious is being missed. And I’m back here again, pointing at it.

I still care about places like this. Our region’s identity is rooted in them. These orchards helped shape the Hudson Valley—and the Big Apple too. I think they matter. I think we can do something different with them.

I’m interested in what comes next for these orchards specifically, and medium-sized farms more broadly. Maybe it’s reinventing perennial systems, agroecology, integrating housing in smarter, 21st-century ways. Maybe it’s something we haven’t fully named yet.

I’ve started doing some light, pointed outreach, and I’d love to hear from others thinking seriously about orchard health, land transitions, or rural/housing regeneration in our region. If you have ideas, leads, connections—or know of any grant opportunities that could support this kind of work—I’m all ears.

If you’re involved in grantmaking, land conservation, rural development, or community-scale housing, I’d especially love to connect. This kind of work takes time, partnership, and real support—and I’m currently looking for all three.

And I’ll admit: I’m a little exhausted. I’m still learning to appreciate the long arc of time these kinds of topics and transitions require. This work can feel like a thorn in my side. But it also holds real potential. I still believe it could help unwind and reverse a trajectory that’s unhealthy for our region—and begin to introduce its opposite

Thats it for now, till soon..

Daniel here — currently a bit under the weather, nursing a cold and a slight fever. But wanted to get out a letter, overly edited by AI, too short perhaps, but get a lil message out there right now to yous :)

spring is here, or at least flirting with us, even as the air’s still cold here in the hudson valley. hope you’ve been enjoying the early flowers as they start to pop through :)

I wanted to start by sharing an image that sums up the mood as i write:

so many of the systems we’ve leaned on — culturally, structurally — feel like they’re burning. and yet we’re still being asked to show up like nothing’s happening.

I was lucky to attend a live show the other week to see Reggie Watts, part musical genius, part freestyle poet, part stand-up philosopher. The whole thing moved through realistic doom, deep optimism, and absurd humor. At one point, he stepped out of performance mode and into a kind of sermon, asking the crowd to keep doing their good work — to keep building community, to keep resisting the life-draining, planet-killing momentum we all feel. for a sample of what the show was like, check out this recent recording below

He said something like, “It’s not even altruistic anymore — it’s just pragmatic.” And that really landed.

Because honestly, I’ve spent years wondering if I should move through the world with a bit more of that extractive, transactional energy — just to keep up. To survive. But it’s never really been in my bones. And I know part of why I’ve been able to hold this regenerative lens is because of privilege — I’m not carrying student debt, I’ve had space to experiment, to say no. That’s not lost on me.

Still, even with that buffer, it hasn’t always been easy. Trying to move through this industry in a slower, more relational way often feels at odds with how real estate is built. But more and more, it feels like this moment is asking for exactly that — new rhythms, new narratives, new ways of being that center land, people, and place in a more honest way.

After a few recent conversations with folks in the work, and trying to nest myself more lcoally I signed up to support Red Hook’s comprehensive planning process — my first formal step into local civic engagement. If you’re not familiar, a comprehensive plan is a strategic document that outlines a town’s long-term vision for land use, development, and growth. It becomes the foundation for how we decide what belongs where — and why. It felt like a natural next step for me, next, be on the look out for my mayoral candidacy, followed by my Dutchess County Regenerative Fascist takeover ; )

Hey Other Agents — Let’s Think & Work Together

I’ve been thinking a lot about how much knowledge we hold as agents and make a string of posts about it on instagram. Not just listings and comps, but deeper stuff — timing, relationships, what’s shifting, what’s possible. And yet, so often, that wisdom gets boxed in. Reduced to “just doing the deal.” Or maybe I’m really talking about myself — because I’ve felt my own wings get clipped when I’m stuck in the role of salesperson alone.

But here’s the thing: we’re on the front lines of market forces. We don’t just witness how things unfold — we help shape them. And we either reinforce the status quo, or we help shift it. And that status quo — in case it still needs saying — is deeply rooted in settler colonialism, redlining, speculation, and individualism. It treats land as commodity, not kin. And that lens is still very much alive — but it’s cracking. And it needs to crack.

A recent reminder of that: a friend of mine, Izumi, applied for a sustainability leadership role within NAR. She would’ve been incredible. She later learned the entire sustainability division had been dissolved. Gone. A signal that even as the world calls for transformation, the institutions are still retreating. And frankly, I’m even more restless about having to be directly tied to the National Board of Realtors. It’s embarrassing.

So no — we can’t wait for the system to lead. We have to move differently. And we have to move together.

For me, one of the biggest shifts this past year was stepping more fully into consulting work. I found myself working with people who weren’t just trying to buy something in the Hudson Valley — they were trying to understand the place. To feel into whether their ideas belonged, or didn’t. To move with care. And I realized that what they needed most wasn’t always a realtor — it was a guide.

And for you, in your expanded role, it might show up differently - there's no single path. What’s needed will depend on your gifts, your community, your timing. I’d really love to help you figure that out. To think it through. To support you in stepping into work that feels more like yours — more whole, more rooted, more alive.

Some of those consulting relationships with cleints I held were hourly. Some were on retainer. And for the first time, I made more from that work than from commissions. Not because I closed a lot of deals — I didn’t — but because I stepped into a way of working that felt more aligned. And maybe the most satisfying outcome of the year? Helping a development not happen. That wasn’t the goal going in, but because I wasn’t tied to a transaction, I had space to support a different kind of outcome. And yes — I got paid for that. It felt like real work.

So I’m sharing all this because I know I’m not alone. If you’re an agent, broker, or someone orbiting the real estate world — and you’ve been wondering if there’s a more whole, values-aligned way to do this work — I’d love to connect. I’m opening up space to consult with other agents. Not as a coach or a program, but as a peer. Someone to talk with. To feel it through. To explore new rhythms.

If that sounds like something you’re craving, reply to this email or DM me on Instagram @daniel_hason_re and check my recent posts there for more.

Keeping this newsletter short right now….going to make some ginger tea…more soon!

Hello Hello All,

Happy almost spring, everyone.

Last time, I mentioned I’d be sending out more short-form newsletters, but instead, I ended up posting a bunch on Instagram—which, honestly, felt like the right space for it. If you haven’t yet, feel free to follow along there—I tend to share a bit more candidly.

📍 Instagram: @daniel_hason_re

In the spirit of cross-promotion (and platform-sharing), I’m bringing over an image I recently posted. A bit of self-promotion, sure, but also an attempt to clarify what I do, my hopes, and who I work with and for. I still get the sense that some people around me are a little perplexed—or at least unsure—about what I represent.

So, hopefully, this helps…

Who do I work with?

I’m a Realtor and consultant, helping people navigate real estate, land use, and community-driven projects with a creative and intentional approach.

I love working with people who innovate with intention, create safe spaces for themselves and their families, bring a creative flair, appreciate a smooth process, and have a passion for beauty, soil, and cultivating community.

In the past, I’ve worked with retiring farmers, first-time homebuyers, and entrepreneurs seeking spaces that align with their values. Looking ahead, I’d love to invite more buyers, investors, landowners, business owners, and those launching cooperative ventures, retreat centers, maker spaces, and farms.

I also work with sellers who have poured care into historic restoration or want their land protected through conservation or community-driven development projects.

Beyond buying and selling, I’ve been doing more consulting—helping people explore alternative structures, sustainability, and regenerative approaches to land and housing. Sometimes, it’s just about offering guidance rather than pushing a sale, and that has worked beautifully.

Real estate and consulting often go hand in hand—whether it’s helping clients think creatively about development, exploring new ownership models, or strategizing how to balance preservation with economic viability. Some projects don’t fit neatly into traditional real estate, and that’s where a consultative approach allows for deeper exploration, flexibility, and innovation.

I’ve said before that I’m a proud generalist, backed by a quote from Bucky Fuller, who championed the value of a broad, systems-thinking approach. In a way, I like to think I can work with almost anyone on almost anything in real estate.

Lately, consulting has been a great way to navigate this field—offering a space for collaboration, exploration, and developing ideas alongside others. I enjoy stepping into an innovative mindset—one that requires fresh ways of thinking, new processes, and a willingness to navigate the unknown together. It’s about creating a space of shared curiosity, where we look to each other for answers and possibilities, fostering trust, new ideas, community, resilience, and, hopefully, a little fun along the way.

Naples, FLORIDA

It’s been a month since I got back from a trip to Florida—Naples, on the west side—where I stayed with my grandma-in-law at a senior housing community. It was my first time visiting (let alone staying in) a place like that, and honestly, it was adorable.

Quick caveat—Florida is, well… Florida. My time there was lovely, but I was also very happy to leave.

Still, it was a real reminder that even the smallest intentions, when woven into a community, can foster a deep sense of connection and belonging.

I know a few of you reading this have been dreaming of pooling resources, finding land, and living near or with each other in a more intentional way. The truth is, there aren’t many models for that up here. But in Florida, I saw condo housing unit after condo housing unit, each with subtle (yet clear) undertones of intention—designed for an older demographic, yes, but fostering a real sense of knowing and loving thy neighbor.

What struck me wasn’t just the structure of these communities but the simple, opt-in gathering points—small, built-in ways for people to cross paths, share a moment, and deepen bonds. A shuffleboard court. A coffee nook. A bench that just so happens to be where people pause to chat. Little things that make all the difference.

I was only in Naples for a few nights—maybe I was high off warm air and humidity—but it made me wonder: why do we wait until we’re older to design for connection? Why do we not prioritize this now?

That’s not to discount the ways we already try to connect with our neighbors—through work, creative projects, or even cafés acting as third spaces. But for me, it feels so much easier when there are actual places designed for gathering. I mean, who doesn’t want to go to Hot Dog Saturdays by the pool?

Also, just for fun, sharing a satellite image of where I was staying in Florida. Not suggesting this as a model for development at all—just kind of in awe of the contrast between how we inhabit space and the natural wave-like lines of the tributary below. It’s wild how close we are to nature in our living environments, yet somehow, it still feels so far away.

And if you’re reading this and you're working on bringing a community development to life—please keep going. The effort to build spaces where people can truly connect is so needed.

Millerton, NY

Sharing another short quip from my Instagram—this time on the intersection of housing and land conservation, sparked by a farm in Millerton that’s currently on the market.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/5-Homestead-Farm-Ln-Millerton-NY-12546/2062578140_zpid/

Listed by Andrew Gates of Houlihan Lawrence, this property is being marketed as lot/land and is one of the few remaining unrestricted farms in the region.

Preserving farmland through conservation easements—selling off development rights—is noble and necessary, but it’s complicated. I’ve seen firsthand how challenging it can be when it’s time to sell, especially when agricultural profits are slim. It’s a dilemma I’ve thought about often.

This particular property has no development restrictions, which means it’s full of potential—but also vulnerable. Without protections, farmland like this can be lost. But with thoughtful, smaller-scale cluster development, there’s an opportunity to create a model where housing and preservation work together, securing both the land’s legacy and its economic viability.

It looks like this farm is being sold either as a whole or in parts—$1.5 million for 94 acres or $2.1 million for 164 acres. And to be clear, I’m not saying this farm needs housing. But unless a nonprofit steps in to subsidize all of the farm production here, there’s a real need for economic balance. Some form of real estate development—one that doesn’t take over the entire farm but instead works in harmony with it—could be a welcome solution.

But what do I know, really? I just see big lots like this and can’t help but wonder—what if a community came together, ran a design charrette, pooled resources, and actually tried to figure out how this farm could best reflect what Millerton needs now and in the future?

If you’re near this farm or have any interest in it, I’d love to go check it out with you. Pass this along to a friend who might feel the same.

FIN

Thanks again for reading along—spring is about to hit the Hudson Valley, our favorite time of year. I’m still settling into my new place in Red Hook and really enjoying being more centrally located.

If you’re ever in the area and want to grab lunch, let me know. I’d love to connect!