It's official: the time has changed, recalling memories from the grave -- Roadtrip Season 2012 and beyond. Crave it, feel that tremble deep in my bones, aching for open horizons and miles miles miles towards some vaguely plotted destination. The spontaneity of November, the crystal of my existence. Eyes peeled and ears to the ground for new music, long lost gems of grace and threads of soulsplinters, cracks in pavement where up rise bravehearts and dearhearts -- the ones who leave and the ones who stay in the nonchalant irregularity of life. Hold on, let go, fill your limbs with gratitude. Also, I can officially crochet scarves in public without weird stares and whispers that abound. I'm kidding. October flew by without so much as a wave goodbye and good riddance; I've made my peace and that's all that matters. Happy Tuesday lovelies, holy open mic night of the world. xo
I could hold the phone to my ear and maybe you would listen.
There’s always the pause, the silent surrender, before the conversation begins.
An awkward greeting, maybe less awkward for the feigned resilience of the fact
that you are there, and I am here, and you are, in fact, finally listening.
I could tell you that July was for being with the band, and
I will never love people any less. (I also have a mountain of picks if anyone needs a spare).
I could tell you that August Is For Saying Goodbye, but luckily
there were (and as I’m learning, usually always are) enough hellos to make it bearable, to the point of More Than Worthwhile. And all those sweaty mosquito nights spent
talking out to the universe, swatting at legs and skin balmy with soupy Houston
humidity where, for once, I was scared in the deepest way, feeling the wholeness
of things.
And of course, September, September. Dates to remember, and
everyone got a little wiser, or just a little older. It is also safe to say
that the crowning jewel of the past three months was the Lord Huron + Alt-J
show I attended at the Bayou Music Center with my brother and his girlfriend,
which was about a week ago. Let me tell you something: you have not lived until
you’ve danced with some friendly rogue Aussies to a soul-splitting, ear-gasming
rendition of Fitzpleasure while wearing an oddly crafted but weirdly amazing
sheer galactic print top with a deep-v back and flowing gypsy train situation.
To be fair, there was that stargazing night in Galveston, where
the sand gritted in our teeth as we laughed into the wind, flying home to Broadripple and Contact on repeat like cosmic entities of infinity. Tallies for every plane that
roared overhead, and a raw yawning awe for sunsets, snapping cameras, strength found in owning our stories, and respect in the ways we've allowed them to shape us. I vigilante bushwhacked through a
suburban forest in sandals and forgot to take photos, but brought home chiggers
and still have six small scars on my stomach as a souvenir (though, because they
lasted so long, the consensus on whether or not they were ACTUALLY chigger
bites was never confirmed). There’s also something to be said about eating
salad from a giant plastic KFC cup, though I’m not exactly sure what it is, other
than it happens, apparently. I ALSO don’t recommend owning a weak immune system
that may lead to the next Tonsillectomy Scare of 2013 (which, thankfully, never
leveled up to Jessica Goes Under The Knife: 2013 Version).
There was, of course, a disposable camera involved somewhere
in all of this, and way too many books read (though one can never read too many
books, ever). Mostly I’ve stumbled upon fictional works exploring addiction and
mother-daughter relationships, and mostly as they present themselves as
co-occuring conditions. I couldn’t really tell you why,
except that it’s hard to say no to a ten cent paperback at the resale shop with
a semi-promising synopsis (as long as it’s not romance. When it comes to
novels, I have the emotional maturity of an eight year old—someone give me a
cootie shot). Maybe I’m using some of these works to better examine the
relationships in my own life, though I don’t know how that even begins to
compare, but anyway. (Ok, it probably compares. It’s probably really relevant.
We’ll call it an accidental anthropological study).
Basically I ate a lot of words, watched some good movies,
hung out with some beautiful people, communed with nature, learned so much
about myself and others to the point of excruciating realness, and found my new
favorite (LOCAL!) record store that’s been sitting under my nose this whole
time (!!!)
Basically.
I’ve missed you guys.
October, you’re going to happen one way or the other. I’d
prefer things to be easier, but if there is no struggle, there is no progress
(according to a recent Sevenly campaign slogan—great mantra by the way), and
progress is the thing, so beat the crap out of me. I’m (mostly) ready for it,
because this won’t be the worst thing that happens. And that’s something I can
bet my life on.
I hope you dearhearts are enjoying the changing of seasons; our first coldfront dropped around midnight last night. After a bummy week of humid rain, skies are beautiful and clear, the wind is cool, but the sun is still beamin' down. That's the South for ya, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
You’re the smackdab middle of the slowrolling summer heatwave,
the gradual build from June’s steady temperament to August’s fullbellyswell,
where the sweat slides down your sides and neck in its sweet and salty way. July,
mark seven in the year’s twelve step. July, the colors of a nation celebrated.
June wrapped me up in soul connection, active practice in
staying present, heightened political awareness, devouring the written word and
finding my way back to those primitive, pen to paper writing roots. Two notebooks
and disposable camera filled with things both personal and potentially
blog-worthy, though that’s yet to be determined (hence the blog silence as of
late). June, you’re a week in the rearview and I miss you already. But July
holds a promise like savory apple pie scent wafting from an oven, counting down
the seconds til latticed goodness is released.
I hope you look more like this. Lots of smiles and spontaneous laughter, family hangs, sister time, and so much love. A roadtrip perhaps, maybe even some facetime with the beach. You're gorgeous June. So many beautiful things to come.
You are the extension of a beginning, remedy for a false start. Had my
ear so close to the ground for thunder I didn’t notice it was getting warmer, didn’t
need these scarves and cardigans. Didn’t think I’d still be at such a
stalemate, but The Call will determine and from there we will go.
The only joy I count for April is Record Store Day, and the vinyl parties
and open mic nights and friend hangs streaming long, indulgent but meaningful
conversation into the night. The hair changed style, changed color yet again,
nails were painted that hadn’t been in previous years, superfluous passage of time. April, you ran up my
phonebill in the worst kind of way, but it was a necessary evil . Bye.
May, don’t be so apologetic for things you’ve yet to do, things that
aren’t your fault, things that sprawl out before me on some invisible calendar…all
invisible until That Call. And if not that one, then another. And if not that
one, then another and another and another until this is resolved. Hold me up in
the sun so I can enjoy it as long as I can, some early inkling of summertime
sadness.
As always, be sweet, and maybe a few less bruises. April jostled me
around, took me for a turn. But you’re the beginning (like Editors say, even an end has a start), that place between extremes
of excitement and some loathsome, dreadful fear. Uncertainty is bred from both,
and I’ll sit with that til the answers come. Thanks for the people who chose to sit with me while I wait; for that I am eternally grateful.
We had a rough introduction. Hopefully there's no bad blood between us, but I can't be so sure. I'm waving goodbye to March with a full heart; so much love passed my way, I have no words. Learning invaluable lessons from unexpected sources, learning more about myself, learning the difference between enjoying the time spent and sticking around a little too long for things of no consequence. Either way, I'm eternally grateful for the experiences, because now they're part of The Story.
March was suffering and trying to find that ever elusive hope, but surrounding myself with people who hope with me and for me. People who shine that light when things be dimmer'n a candle burned down to the wick. My People. Looking forward to soaking up and giving back and loving each and every blessed one of Them. Because They're finally here, slowly trickling into my life when I need them most. So hey April, you're almostsummer. Let's get crazyyyy.
PS RECORD STORE DAY = THIS MONTH! GET EXCITED!
(also getting my hands dirty again; I've forgotten what creating can do for a weary soul)
Hello! Bonjour! Hola! WHAT IS UP. February was wildnightrudefaceloveyouwhatjusthappenedatwafflehouse. Lots of movement and meeting new souls of brilliance and connection to longloved dearhearts. I endeavored to soak up every ache and pain, every hollow bonebroken moment of those 28 days. Voids were filled, emptied; scars grew a thicker, tougher skin and faded; new replaced old, old came back to haunt; everything spun in a freewheelin' rage of ecstasy and deaddrop rockbottom on the dancefloor. Smelled like bonfire regret, coffeehouse grind, staleness and purity, birthdays and Amazon Pequi body butter bound up in moments. Tallies, gains, losses losses losses and gains. February kept score, February out of control. So March, I'm glad you're here. I'm ready for warmer weather and forward motion and adventures a-plenty. Less lights going up, lights going down. More level-headed centers of focus, more awareness, more mindfulness, more rest.
Ay pero febrero, you did have your good moments, this my favorite...
In a blasted Subway parking lot of glory
Home Depot luminescence and windblown boxes of cardboard I met an angel found
one of My People, one of the
Mad Ones.
You live your life for moments like this.
But welcome March, you're gonna be WEIRD! And hopefully more graceful.
xo
PS dyed my hair again because dark roots in blonde hair equals zero bits attractive. My attempt at red turned into a fried deep burgundy fail, but oh well. Rollin with it.
Realtalk: I like you, I don't like you. You're one more year of life, two more years gone by, babyblog's first year of existence (what?! YAY!). Despite these things, you're my least favorite month aside from January. But I'll find grace in you, dig up the warmth and compassion, fight for the strength to move forward. More books, more film, more art, more friends, more times, more love, more connection, more faith, more miles, more laughter. February, you are more. You are mine.
I don't know you, or what you mean, or what you want from me. I don't know a lot of things, and probably never will, but that's ok. I think. Down towards the healing, right?
And if you want to see something hilarious, direct yourself (because it's mildly inappropriate so I'm not linking) to a video on Youtube called A New Year, A New Me. I crack up every time.
You are here, and I don't even believe it. I say that every time, but time itself is such a mystical concept. It's here and it's not. You hold onto every second and each one slips away just as quickly as it came. But dulce diciembre, you're the end and the beginning. November was broken and free and familiar places and jazz piano and THANK GOODNESS FINALS ARE OVER, haha. November was heartache for things beyond recognition, beyond the walls of houses and endless state lines. But baby, you're here now, and things are happening. I've seen so many dearhearts and spent time and laughed and lived...and yet you don't feel real; it doesn't feel like a holiday season, but store displays and lit up houses and packed malls prove otherwise. It's not sadness...just some sense of displacement. Please feel real.
PS I've let go. And I brought out my precious ornament collection, each one from a different era, once hung and cherished on someone else's tree in a different home, a different country even. I hope they were special, I hope there was love and warmth, I hope there was something real to the season and not just something commercialized. I hope there was appreciation. And December, I'm going to love and appreciate every fleeting moment of you. I'm ready. PS if you will ever cool off, layers I LOVE YOU (it was 80degrees today, still sported that scarfWHATEV).
November 1, 2012
Hello hello hello to YOU, babydoll. Hello holiday season. You're cold (well, not today, but you will be!) and new and I'm glad you're here. It's weird, but I'm glad all the same. Layers like crazy in a week or two and pumpkin things and cinnamon. Scrambling to finish the semester, working on Christmas (shh!) gifts, and excited out of my MIND for friends coming home on holiday break. I try to be thankful on a daily basis, but you're the Big Annual Reminder of good things in my life. There's so much to be grateful for. Above all, Noviembre mi vida, BE SWEET.
We'll pretend it hasn't been a year since we roadtripped to Corpus and biked on the beach with people we love...pretend it hasn't been two since everything fell apart. The cool breeze is nothing but a cool breeze; it's not nostalgia of those sweaters and scarves and freezing in outdoor bars and under carports and all the things I used to be able to do.
It's none of those things. Instead, this time, you're just you. This month, this moment, all its own.
No looking back, just pushing forward. Take Kenny up on that offer to buy you blinders if you need them; nothing but full speed ahead darlin, you know that.
September, you were sweet. You tried to be kind. And I survived my first few class assignments without too much trouble, and it rained.
October, you make dad a year older, but 730 days from a moment still feel like yesterday. It's hard, but I'm trying.
As always, teach me some grace, some patience, some peace. Also I might've forgotten how to really love at some point. Send out a search party?
You're going to ask a lot of me, and I'm going to do the same. Things like health and bringing beautiful people back home, back into my life safe and sound. Be nice. Please? PS I don't even have a tan. Um, what's up with that?!
Hey you. It's been a year since I've seen you last...we need to keep in touch more. But anyway. June was kind of rude to me (you might need to have a talk with him). There were some nice bits though; lovely exciting things that made my heart so happy I died...it started with a bang and ended with one. It's all the in-between that's blurred. Too much moving. Too much doing to stay focused. The in-between was what kind of hurt my heart a little bit, hurt my head.
But JULYJULYJULY guess what?! I think you and I are going to be best friends*. I really do**.
*Even though I'm eaten to pieces by mosquitoes! But that's not your fault, ha. **As long as you bring back the sunshine. Girl needs some tan lines, asap.
...don't make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better!
Ok ok. So maybe my lyrics are a little off but don't act like you don't love the Beatles.
Maybe you don't. That's not the point.
BIG NEWS!
I GOT MARRIED! AND I HAVE THESE REALLY UNFLATTERING PHOTOS TO PROVE IT!
Who needs a chapel when you've got a drive-in?! The wedding was beautiful. Sonic receipt tuxedo and straw wrapper ring...there's a courthouse right down the street. With Large Coke Easy-Ice and Large Cranberry Unsweetened Tea as our witnesses, it couldn't have been more official.
Kidding! My bff and I were using up the last few photos on my disposable camera. He was randomly in town and Sonic Happy Hour is our steez, so yeah. Anyway.
You guys, we are officially halfway through the year and it’s Friday and I don’t even KNOW where the time has gone. I mean. This month has been ri-diculous (in a good way, of course) and, as usual, I have some words.
Dear May,
You were kind of ridiculous, like the way that toe socks are ridiculous, but still totally cool and comfortable. Things like hilarious hospital bed moments, successfully avoiding the dreaded Simmons Stomach Plague 2012, spending time with grandparents, $2 tripod finds (!!!), using film for the first time in forever. Things like losing myself in paper and glue sticks (yep, I still use those) and doublestick tape and FINALLY ORGANIZING MY CRAFTING SUPPLIES (well, the paper stuff…one of my proudest moments to date, you guys) and gifts given and beautiful new music discovered and friends. Meeting new, beautiful, shining souls and driving for miles to catch up with dearhearts that I miss.
Craft-fairing and dancing and 48hrs in a city that will forever own a tiny piece of my heart. Things like planning a celebration for two very special people and their new chapter together, and surprise visits from the other half of my brain (see above photos). May, you surprised me pleasantly among the leaves, and also brought out the worst in me; parts I had no idea existed, or existed to such an extent…and you made me better for the knowledge.
And now I know. And I grow from there.
But June, oh you. So full of promise. Photos to take, things to make, allowing myself to feel everything, because that's really ok. Because I am me and that’s enough.Because I said May was for grace, and I lied. But this time I’m leaning into you and letting things flow. Dear June, you are full of opportunity…and I love you already!
OK now that I’m done sounding like a mantric yoga instructor, it’s TO-DO TIME!
I love lists; I make them often (as in daily) and always (as in always) so here are a few of myJune Summer Goals:
Photos and finishing. That's kind of the gist of it I think. And if they don't all get crossed off, it's alright. Regina Spektor told me so (and provided me with my new summer/life mantra in the process): "Stop! Stop! What’s the hurry? Come on baby don’t you worry worry!"
May is a month of warmer weather, new approaches, planning for uncertainty, embracing imperfection, beach trips, skype dates, sun salutations, saying no, new music, making more, loving more, being more. May is a month of healing.
PS here are a few songs that're making my heart absolutely explode with joy right now, a crazy mix of new loves and old favorites. I have to say that Dry the River's latest album Shallow Bed is really fueling the creative fire right now. I spent most of last night with "Demons" on repeat while art journaling. Peter Liddle's vocals just do it for me. And I have to thank Kara of I Just Might Explode for turning me on to Ingrid Michaelson's cover of "Somebody That I Used to Know" (a song we've all heard a bajillion times now but I still can't seem to get enough of lately). I wanted to include "Fangs", one of my favorites off of Sarah Jaffe's new album The Body Wins but it's not on Grooveshark yet so be sure to check it out on Spotify if you get the chance! Happy Tuesday everyone! What albums are you obsessing over lately? I love music recommendations!
