Smile! You’re at the best site ever


My mom and my little brother got into town late last night. And with them came my camera, sent from Steele. What’s strange is how much I’ve been enjoying just using my phone, film, and writing more. 
I have been teetering on the edge of buying a new DSLR and it’s really scary for some reason. To invest so much money into something. I find myself grasping at excuses not to buy it, but I really have none. 
Time to make a decision. 



Today I woke up early again. Not as early as yesterday, but I kept getting up every minute or so, convinced that I had overslept. Then I would crawl back into bed, fall asleep for a few seconds, and jolt back awake this time really convinced that I had completely missed work. But I didn’t.

I got to work and wasn’t needed, so I got to spend a few hours at this little coffee shop. I like it because, as WW says,The remodeled space resembles a one-fifth scale model of the 3rd Avenue Stumptown, without the slightly menacing air of hipness.” This place is just right. I can breathe here. 

I’ve not posted many blogs mid-day. I have more things to do today and I don’t know what note the day will end on… But, that is part of life I suppose.

And so, onto the rest of the day.


Today I got up early. 6:15. I got out of bed and went to the window and looked at the sky and it looked like fading ink. So I pulled myself up, put my hair in a pony tail, and got on my bike to take photographs of the river and the sky.

That’s all I feel like documenting. It was a good start to the day, but the best part of my day was my Skype conversation with Steele. He just makes me light up. I miss him.

Here is some found poetry, from the drafts section of my text messages. When I’m in the middle of writing one and someone texts me back, and I stop writing and then start a new one, my phone saves the unfinished draft.

I feel I
Oh and they close
You’re never gonna guess
Tell the
Nope. They
Well we could do
Call me when the g
I wanna

My favorite is “Call me when the g” I mean, doesn’t that just sound like that start of a great rap song? Hmm? I think yes. Also, anyone out there who is a One Tree Hill fan, who is also a Harry Potter fan, needs to watch this.


From my journal:

Every morning I’ve been waking after dawn, the sheets sliding around my body as I get up repeatedly to turn off the alarm. It’s like only in those half-sleep moments can I find my body without faults. I wish  I could hold onto that feeing, but it fades as I wake. It’s replaced with all my little insecurities, all the people I’ll see that day and without thought compare myself to. All the times I’ll sit down and my jeans will dig into my belly. It’s replaced with those black pants that no longer fit. I’m not doing P90X to look perfect. Maybe I’m doing it to try to keep that feeling. The feeling that this body of mine has no faults. Because after every workout, for a moment I just want to say to everyone, ‘Look! Look what I just did!’ Today it was 20 push ups. It’s not perfection but its the sensation of fully inhabiting your body.

August 20, 2012

And I’m doing it for rock solid Abs, of course 😉


Here is a story from day 67, from my journal:

Tonight I was just standing on the Broadway Bridge. I was so high above the water. I turned around me and saw the sun setting the clouds on fire. I thought about all the beautiful things I had seen today. I thought about the ocean stretching out around me, waves licking the shore. I thought about the sky upside down. I thought about the burning clouds. I was standing there. I imagined just climbing the railing, letting myself fall off the bridge backwards. Not suicide but the freedom of being only on air, if only for a few seconds. 

I imagined surfacing for oxygen. The current taking me, climbing out wet and the walk I would take back to my bike. I took a cell phone picture and sent it to Steele. I said, ‘I wish you were standing here with me.’ I decided that I would stand on the bridges whenever I was upset–the closest I can come to standing on air. 

I got on my bike and rode down, then up, to Powell’s. And as I was walking up the steps to the Purple room, a girl glanced at the side braid hanging down the front of my shirt. I thought about this hair. I grow this hair, I buy this book, I scribble these words. I build up this person. I live inside this head. I make choice after choice, decide things, form opinions. I build this identity. But if you strip me raw, who am I? If you take everything away. My hair. My books. My camera. This pen, my words. Who am I? Who makes this, who decided this. How unthinkable, how impossible, to be sitting in this room with these strangers. To be so known, but to be such a stranger to them. We’re all really the center of our own universes. 

August 19, 2012


Here is something from my journal from day 66:

I hate that I’l forget all the details of the past few days, the past few months, the last few years, my life. They’ll slip though my fingers. I wish I could pluck every beautiful, heartbroken, angry, wonderful moment like a jewel and put it in a box. I wish I could bottle the feeling of sitting by this gem of a river, this city filled with sparking lights, under this fading blue sky. Music pounding in my ears, my skirt flared out around me in a circle, my boots scruffed, my pen scribbling. I want to drink that potion later. I love, I love that I can be sitting on my couch, watching One Tree Hill, and begin to be filled with that feeling of unease, restlessness, disappointment. That I can feel those things and then, immediately, get on my bike and fly down the street and leave that girl behind on her couch. That in a few seconds, I can become this woman who has frizzy hair flying behind her, a bright yellow skirt falling around her bike seat, cutting in front of cars and racing to make it through yellow lights. I have the ability to give myself wings, and I hope I never forget that, at the very least. 

August 18, 2012



Day 65 was August 17th, 2012.
It was Ali’s twenty-first birthday.

I took two pictures with 35mm film.
One of the cake I baked her.
Another one of the cake, candles lit, Ali making her wish mid-blow.

This color reminds me of Ali:


Yesterday was so hot, it was hard to breathe. The air hit you and wrapped around you like a blanket when you stepped outside.

But the second half of the day held an event for the Crafted in Portland project that I’ve spent the summer working on. It was an awesome feeling being there and seeing it completely finished. It is insane to see so many people taking cell-phone pictures of something I worked so hard on.


Today was a day. It wasn’t a good day, or a bad one. Just a day. And it was another day in which I took no pictures. I needed to be alone with my thoughts. Crrr left unexpectedly this morning.
Here is something I acquired today, for all my new thoughts. Thoughts of school. Thoughts of my thesis. Thoughts of building a website. Thoughts of all of the things in my head. Which will now be here, in this new book. 
In fact, today I recorded some thoughts. I will compose you a poem, found poetry from my thoughts. 
A cocoon
(an entire story)
know my place there.
my chest is constantly expanding. 


There’s nothing necessarily beautiful about riding the Red line out to the airport. It’s not something you can photograph. It’s just an inner peace. You don’t have to worry about your stop coming up unexpectedly. You’re just there. Heading towards going away or towards someone you love coming back. 

Today I was heading towards someone I loved. 
And so, there’s nothing necessarily beautiful about the Red line coming back into the city. But then the space beside you is filled again. Today the space beside me was filled with Crrr. 
Recently I have come to love the phrase “growing pains” I love that it describes pain with a positive word. Growing. I love that growing is openly acknowledged to be painful sometimes. Relationships are not self-sustaining entities. This applies to friendships. Recently I have been ignoring that. I get so busy and it is so easy to neglect the things I love the very most, including people. 
But today I picked Crrr up in the airport, and there were hugs and giggles, but there was also the inner peace of being with a friend. It is the peace of knowing the person besides you knows you. Of being known. That kind of peace. 
It isn’t a thing that can be photographed. So today is a day for words.