Sunday

March 22, 2015 § Leave a comment

I don’t do hats, but this weekend I purchased one at The Depot— which is actual proof that people change.  More importantly, seasons do. Spring is technically happening. Flowers are blooming. SPF 60+ is in my handbag where it will stay until September. If you’re still waiting for the warmth (Hi New Yorkers)… know that it’s coming.

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Valentine. Photographed.

February 14, 2015 § 2 Comments

Processed with VSCOcam with a6 preset Processed with VSCOcam with a6 preset This was one morning a few weeks back when OJ played a show in Asheville. There were snow flurries outside. Mountains. Earl Grey. Some things I love. That face.

Day Date. Ft. Tennessee

February 1, 2015 § 6 Comments

Life hack: Spend Saturday exploring Nashville with a best friend.

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Dobré Ráno

January 18, 2015 § 2 Comments

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Good morning from Praha!  I’ve spent a week walking and walking and walking. + Admiring these streets, these cafes, some aggressive river side swans, and excellent unexpected company. Sundays are for coffee and lazing and sometimes czech poetry. Prague is the Golden City fo sho.

 

Oh! Here’s a piece I wrote part fashion, part travel, mostly sentimental for a site I’m pretty excited about, Millennials Or Die. Read if you’d like and check out their mission and other stellar posts thus far!

On Writing While Away

September 18, 2014 § Leave a comment

I love written notes.  I love them for their practicality and purpose.  I love them because I’m used to them.  Some I save (one from mom on Christmas morning, circa 2008:  “Santa’s helper wants to sleep for X amount of time.” posted at the staircase), some read once, others repeatedly, or replaced, or thrown away. Doesn’t matter.  What matters is that the act of writing is, at least for me, an unbreakable habit.  And it’s a good one. Here is a message. Remember it.  Plain and simple.

Which brings me to my next point: there are always going to be things to be reminded of.  And they can’t all be written down. We sometimes cling. We sometimes ignore. We pick and we choose.  Which is pretty much why we write in the first place.  To chisel away the marble as best we can, hoping whatever face underneath can eventually be put on display but not touched. And here (this particular platform), here is where I go after I’ve written in a three-dimensional journal, a legal pad dedicated to lists and foreign language scribbles, through iphone inbox/notepad, emails, etc. What surfaces here are echoes of the most important, most exciting, most sentimental things as I encounter them.  I don’t need them to be anything else.

Which brings me to my actual point:  I’m afraid of brag blogging.  I do not want to brag. I have just written a paper note saying, “Do not brag,” which will nuzzle itself into a pile of other reminders like “stop apologizing so often,” and “turn light on for baby chicks,” and “email grandma”. But when I post something like Last Saturday I walked to Spain I semi-cringe realizing whatever pride/excitement in doing so is overshadowed by boastfulness.  Which is never the blogger’s, or writer’s, or person-doing-something’s point.  There is a difference between writer and reader, but I do not want that difference to be a disconnect. Mostly, I do not want these messages to be lost in translation. I am in Berenx one more week then I’m traveling elsewhere. I am relentlessly grateful. I am proud of my experiences because I worked hard in order to have them. I was taught to appreciate a good thing when I see it. I feel encouraged to write the good things down. I’m not at all sorry for that.

Where said writing happens. Read as: where I mostly scroll Fashion Week posts instead.

Where said writing happens. Read as: where I mostly scroll Fashion Week posts.

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