Category Archives: just because

Moody Monday Pick Me Up

Early by 20 minutes, so sue me…don’t be angry it’s Monday. Partake, instead, in some Kenneth Anger magic.

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Comeback Kid

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I am quite ashamed and relatively distraught at having neglected my humble blog for so long…but today (ahem, tonight), I am turning over a new leaf and gettin back into the swing of things. (Pardon the cliches, it’s been a damn minute…!)

My first order of business in all things audacious is this video. That’s it. Only because very little explanation is needed considering the female character is the wonderous Emma Koenig, the female Millennial’s answer to all things angst. Koenig birthed the widely-acclaimed blog, “Fuck I’m in my 20s” which went on to become a book. And if you’ve shopped the gift section at Urban Outfitters (you most likely have if you are an angst-ridden millennial), then you will find her book of hysterical blog posts on the travails of early adulthood. You will most likely find a copy directly next to the cooking with cannabis books. Koenig’s blog/book/video aren’t anything new, but they are timeless. Enjoy.

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Fear and Loathing in Word Document

FREAK OUT!

FREAK OUT!

Sooo this is a little something I wrote a while ago in a fit of angst and frustration (grr). I stumbled upon it, and it kind of felt reaffirming to me. Back-story is this: I’m studying journalism to pursue my dream career of, well, being a journalist. But for those of you who write for a living, or who aim to in the future, you know the dilemma we face as writers; unoriginality. It’s enough to scare you into writer’s block (I think this same fear can be said for just about anyone pursuing a career in a creative field). Any who. Here’s my first blog post dedicated to B**ch-ranting….and of course, angsting. Over my words…

“There’s nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at the typewriter and bleed.”

-Ernest Hemingway

I’m afraid of my words. I’m afraid of committing them to paper, because then it makes them real. It makes the stories real, the mistakes glaring, and the tone morph into its own delusional cliché. It is in fact, spelling out my shortcomings. Not only as a writer, no, but as a human being with flawed, unoriginal thoughts.

In reality, nothing gets more to the point than writing. Language carries so much power and substance, and it’s in many ways, an art that cannot be bull-shited through abstract sensibilities. So what the hell? JUST TAKE MY FIRST BORN CHILD ALREADY!

Maybe I just need to stop stewing in my fear and neuroses… yet the latter is more often a product of the preceding. Stupid words. Sometimes I feel as if I’m not really writing, but actually projectile vomiting existential/quarter life crises all over a word document, then pushing it around and exclaiming, “This is my masterpiece!” This is the career I wish to pursue? To binge “eat” all of life’s experiences, only to ceremoniously regurgitate them? To support my “word bulimia” with a meager, annual income of forty-five grand?

But then again, maybe there are worse things. And if words are my way of releasing myself, from myself, then why not give it a go? Maybe in the end, I’d rather be a slave to my art, than be enslaved by it.

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Happy Tuesday!

Happy Tuesday!

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Caretakers of Wonder

I feel like nothing can yank on an adult’s heart strings like the memory of their favorite children’s book. I myself was recently re acquainted with an old story my grandmother used to read me, and thought it was not only charming and nostalgic, but that it was pretty relevant to Earth Day (woohoo! Connections). The book is called “Caretakers of Wonder” and was written and illustrated in 1980 by the talented, Cooper Edens. The story itself is a guiding explanation on how things in the world work. For example, there’s a part that talks about “little people” who keep the moon fed, till he is “full” and then how they put him on a diet, therefore, making him “slimmer.”Cute, right? There’s silly explanations for all things regarding nature, from how the seasons change, to how the day time turns to evening time. The story ends with this:

“Now, while you sleep tonight…imagine what you most would like to do to help keep the world magical? For you know that one of these nights your friends are going to tap on your window and invite you to become one of the Caretakers of Wonder.”

So yeah, I basically interpret that last part as one growing up, inheriting the earth, and treating it with TLC, but then again, maybe I read too much into these things…no matter. The book is adorable, and I am IN FREAKING LOVE with the illustrations. Very neo victorian/surrealist. Image

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Moody Monday Pick Me Up

Moody Monday Pick Me Up

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