February 20, 2015 § 2 Comments
I get incredibly homesick when I go places. It’s not ideal, but it’s manageable. The excitement of seeing a different setting, where other people are home, is worth feeling far from whatever grounds me. Traveling is important. Does something to the psyche and heart. All the things people say it does. (Some of which are grounding.) And I think about it, in general, a lot. I’m very excited for some upcoming trips, but right now I’m so happy to be in the Carolinas. In the faux-cold. With buttermilk biscuits (also things I think about a lot). Seeing what you can of the world is personal. It’s choice. What you look at and where you leave. And I love that.
My favorites from last year:
November 12, 2014 § Leave a comment
“London returns in damp, fragmented/ flurries/ when I should be doing something else.” From Chelsea Rathburn’s poem English Sonnet. Fitting to say the least. Here’s a handful of images. Here’s a city I liked.
November 9, 2014 § Leave a comment
My mother and best friend in law school and guy I write love letters to are really glad I didn’t pierce my septum in London, but I’m not so sure. If it’s safe to say anything ever, it’s safe to say that I’m impulsive, often. It might be genetics, tbh. Things sound like good ideas or necessary ideas until they aren’t. And by that point I’ve usually spent a stupid amount of money on artisanal treats or put down a deposit on an apartment in St.Petersburg, Russia or sprinted, in Nikes, across Marion Square and down Charlotte Street to argue with an ex before he was an ex. Sometimes I curse this spontaneity and other times I look it in the face in the mirror and say hey, thanks for making that choice, just then. It has rewards– wanting to do something so badly at once. « Read the rest of this entry »