Art, Expat, Family, Food, lifestyle, Personal, relationships, Travel

australia.

Mark and Anna, Sept. 30//Oct. 1

I keep waking up in the middle of the night. Sometimes from the acid ravaging my esophagus from some annoying ailment, sometimes from the jet lag that sits heavy on my eyelids at two in the afternoon and pries them awake at four in the morning. I tell myself that first thing in the morning, I will finally compile all of the golden thoughts and sparkling experiences- and predictably, this will vanishes as soon as the sun’s morning rays streak through the window. But after fingers fluttering around my neck and keyboard and apartment for several days, it’s time to write of the past two weeks. My past two weeks in Australia. Our past two weeks in Australia.

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Family, lifestyle, Personal, relationships

amoeba.

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When we enter into deep relationship, we cast ourselves under somewhat of a microscope. As we cohabitate and learn the intricacies of another human and behold the runny noses and migraines and sulky moods and insecurities usually reserved for behind closed doors, we allow ourselves to become inspected.

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lifestyle, Personal, relationships

“like” this.

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Scroll, scroll, scroll. Like, like, like. Tweet, repost, share.

Pressing my thumbprint onto the home button of my iPhone and waiting for the screen to illuminate, I never felt that my desire for connectivity on social media or phone to be abnormal. Because it’s not. I’ll sit in a friend’s living room where everyone else’s eyes scan their screens, I’ll sit in a café and more than half the faces are turned downward to their phones. I’ll be at a party and people are Snapchatting or taking selfies left and right, unembarrassed and filtered.

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lifestyle, Personal, relationships, United States

She.

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After singing lullabies to my niece as she drifted into sleep, after I set her tiny onesie-clad body down into the crib, after I waited for her cries to turn into whimpers into sniffles into silence- I wept. With happiness and wonder and fear and anger and disbelief. Today my visions may have been filled with pink, but I am seeing red.

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Personal, Uncategorized

Reminder.

Brushing it off and saying “it’s just one of those days” is a disservice to yourself. It’s a cheat out of giving yourself permission to experience real pain, real emotions, real sadness. Whether or not you understand where it’s coming from doesn’t necessarily matter- and it doesn’t make it any less.

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Family, Personal, relationships

Selves.

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Sometimes in a moment alone after a thread of days spent around people for extended periods of time I’ll feel a very distinct feeling of hollowness. For sanity, I require time to just be quiet and still- maybe scrolling through websites, paging through a book, or staring out the window. Although necessary and mostly tenderly enjoyable, there’s a barrenness to the space around me when instead of clattering around in the kitchen or chatter from across the room I hear only the mechanic purr of the heater and cruel tick of the clock.

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Family, lifestyle, Personal, relationships

Your True North.

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In my favourite book The Virgin Suicides, after a first attempt at death, young Cecilia is asked post-slitting-of-the-wrists “What are you doing here, honey? You’re not even old enough to know how bad life gets.”

Her response, “Obviously, Doctor, you’ve never been a thirteen year old girl.”

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Art, Cambodia, Expat, Family, Fashion, Food, lifestyle, Music, Personal, Phnom Penh, relationships, Travel, United States

Whirlwind.

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Layers of ugliness and masterpiece.

It has been 13 days since soaring into the air towards Phnom Penh, Cambodia and two full back home, in Washington- in Tacoma, That Quiet Little Mountain Town. The amount of breaths, thoughts, experiences…stuff… that has happened in these past two weeks: in the world, in America, in my heart: vast. I am exhausted, fatigued to the bone and only able to process scraps at a time, little scintilla of memories as my mind rests and wanders, wakes and tremors.

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Uncategorized, United States

Extravagantly.

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There are days when it feels like everything has been flecked with rose gold and hazel and honey. They are rare and they’re when I feel my heart in my throat and even sleep deprived and synapses slow, everything feels delicious.

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Beauty, Family, lifestyle, Personal, relationships, United States

Less.

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I feel everything so keenly and bluntly today. A grade A example of a seemingly bipolar being, sensing each moment pointedly and on each end of the spectrum. Some fill me with what feels like a hot cup of tea, filled with surprising lemon tartness and smooth honey and warmth and safety, making it difficult to breathe in a way where everything seems to skip a beat- some are ragged and painful and sharp around the edges, making it difficult to breathe and not in the lovely way where everything seems to skip a beat.

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