Critical Moments

Driving to the Sahara in a red Mongolian fur...

Here's all I know, Your checkered room and your velvet bow

My first days in my new place, back in September. I found this dress at a fripe in Paris. It's super 80's, but I couldn't resist the latticed back. And then there's my closet - full of impractical clothes. I don't know what I was thinking when I packed for this move (think cropped gold sequin top, lamé tiger print wrap, red Mongolian fur, and green leopard harem pants)...

Vagabondage of sorts

"Where in another ten years, shall I be, myself? Certainly not here. How many seas and frontiers shall I have to cross to reach that distant day; how far shall I have to travel, on foot, on horseback, bar car, push-bike, aeroplane, steamer, train lift, moving-staircase, and tram? How much money shall I need for that enormous journey? How much food must I gradually, wearily consume on my way? How many pairs of shoes shall I wear out? How many thousands of cigarettes shall I smoke? How many cups of tea shall I drink and how many glasses of beer? What an awful tasteless prospect! And yet to have to die..."

Inti

Saturday morning, sunny and clear. Taxi to Soukra. Sunshine, techno, glow sticks and cigarettes. I didn't know the words, but I sang along anwyay.

Half Light

I had dropped out of
law school when I met Eve.

She was very beautiful.


Very pale, cool in her black dress,


with never anything more
than a single strand of pearis.


And distant.
Always poised and distant.

I've been trying to download the new Sex and the City movie for 3 days now. I just wanted to watch something mindless. In its place I revisited a totally unrelated film, Interiors. It's my absolute favorite Woody Allen film. Have you seen it?

A dark tale contrasted by a pale and tonal set. It plays on insecurities - comparing ourselves to other people, the feeling of coming up short, fears of loneliness and abandonment... And somehow the film seems still, so still. Pristine and stark like a slow piano song.

Your brown eyes are my blue skies

City skapes from before. Now it's crowded winding streets in the Medina, turquoise and the scent of jasmine, tea with pine nuts, harisa, motor bikes, fruit stands, beach bars, windy beaches, cigarettes on balconies, construction and dust...

Height of Summer

Uncover our heads

Memory comes when memory's old
I am never the first to know
Following this stream up north
Where do people like us float?

Came back to Paris for a visit. Everything's changed, and somehow I feel the same here, good and bad. The emotions and experiences that I left a year ago just hit me like a tidal wave. Unexpected, but I'm still enjoying myself.

Isabel and I went to see Fever Ray. It was an incredible concert, surreal and haunting, everything that I imagined it would be.

Loved up

My current inspirations... Lace and hats, Anita Pallenberg, clashing prints in vibrant colors.

I'm planning on decorating my room in Tunis with a smattering of ikat and striped blankets, bright rugs, lots of candles and lanterns, maybe some big floor pillows in the corner...

My playlist:
The Height of Summer by the Knife
Stranger Than Kindness by Fever Ray
Lovesick by Lindstrom and Christabelle
Mind, drips by Neon Indian
Sea Talk by Zola Jesus

Memory comes when memory's old

Last moments in Austin with the ones I love.

Sea Talk

I strip away the distractions and it all hits at once.

Mind is a razorblade

Blur
New York
The Bean
Thai food
All Saints
Coney Island
Sleep until 1
Steamy Streets
The East Village
Tears on the street
Then laughing all over

Never have I been a blue calm sea

23, it was a strange year for me. For the better part of it, I thought that I was backtracking, losing, lost and floating. It wasn't until I decided to let go that I found the things that I had been searching for. It was, in hindsight, an important year and well worth the times of discomfort. I made new and amazing friends, people who I know will be in my life forever. I fell in love for the first time, a huge leap and lesson in and of itself. I got my first writing job (and hopefully not my last). I worked at jobs that I didn't want to be at, probably went out a little too much, got busy and got bored and reached the end of myself . And in and through all of those experiences I finally found a new beginning.

In two weeks I'll be in Tunisia, working for a non-profit and teaching English. I hope that a great African Odyssey awaits me.

I Thought of You

The sweetness, the bitter sweetness, the sorrow. The building up and the tearing down. I hate to say goodbye. I know that I did it to all of my friends and hopped across the ocean. Now they’re leaving me – New York, Chicago, San Antonio. And I’m left to build a new life in an old place. It feels uncomfortable.

These days the past creeps into my mind space. Every time I close my eyes I see it – countryside through a train window, a stretch of beach, the purple café on the street corner. I wish my life could exist in a composite city – Montmartre, El Raval, Hamra, and East Austin, all in one space, one web, and all those who I loved in each place would be within my reach.

When the web threatens to unravel, as it is now, I want to jump ship – move. I’ll just start over and maybe in this new city everything will be as I want it to be. It never lasts, I know that. I can’t help but run away. I think I feel things too deeply sometimes. Too much love and too much sadness.