Here’s a little story.
I remember the night of November eighth. I wanted to go to a bar, be in the middle of the action, get ready to celebrate Hillary Clinton’s victory–just as I had for Obama last two elections. But sh*t escalated quickly.
My friend wanted to go to her brother’s house instead, so I went with her. Now I was stuck at this house with nothing but one glass of wine and a baby sleeping upstairs. Add personal troubles to the mix and here was a worst-case scenario at its best. Meanwhile, as the results kept coming in, all I wanted to do was go outside and scream. At the moment, I could not believe this was the people of the United States of America digging their own grave. (Now we have a pretty good idea of all the shade behind this election.) Everyone around me started feeling sick. I wanted to puke. The last time I felt that sick to my stomach it was September 11, 2001. How did we get here?
This election has been particularly tough to assimilate for pretty much any person of reason and morals.
We ended up going back to my friend’s house that night–no longer needing to celebrate–and downed a couple of tequila shots as if it were water. I can never do straight non-chilled shots, mind you, but I had to calm my anxiety somehow. I tried drowning my repulsiveness in alcohol, but it didn’t work. It was a hell of a terrible, sleepless night. And, if the Electoral College doesn’t come through on December 19th, I’m hoping to be drunk for the next four years.
Inspired by the cover photo of Rihanna’s album, Unapologetic. I love her song “What Now” from that album, so I just sketched it one day while listening. Music is art; art is music.
When my mind is trying to tell me something, and I don’t know what, I just start sketching and stuff spills out. And it just comes out. And it’s therapy. And I love it. And I want to share it with the world, even if no one gets it. Can you relate?
I’m like a bird…
Music and doodling are two of my favorite things. They belong together.
To feel your flame fanning my feet. It’s these little moments for which I live. As long as I can do this, it is not so bad that the pages of my calendar have turned to October and the marble floors are a frozen sea. As long as I can do this, let that inevitable cycle go on again and again.
‘Long as I can turn on the heat.
Staring into a volcano; getting lost in my thoughts, wishing it didn’t burn to feel you so close. Like the rain, you make me find words in my head very deep. Our chemistry helps me breathe. Here, nothing matters. My Raynaud’s is forgotten. Just as pumpkin-cinnamon-apple-spice is a cliché, you are worth the repeat.
But I’ll run away. Unfortunately, sometimes, I’ll leave. Nothing’s perfect, you see. Though the moment equals infinity, your flame is short-lived. Promises should be eternal. I’ll be searching for the conditional warmth that your current brings across other unconditional seas.
As much as I wish time stood still sometimes, it is good news when I make it to another September. Even if it means summer — my favorite season — will start winding down soon.
Some of the most beautiful things begin to happen in September, too. The whole town blows up in flames; shades of orange, yellow, green, brown, and red paint the streets with the beautiful color of autumn’s maple leaves.
If you were born in September, there’s a chance you are magic.
I only hated school twice in my life: the last year of high school and my last year(s) of college — both being absolute chronic cases of senioritis (self-diagnosed). Other than that, I was the nerd who couldn’t wait to put her new pencil to use. That might explain why I wasn’t appointed the cool girl in town. Past tense, okay? But in the end, it worked out just fine for me.
The race to be the coolest kid is still a thing, I believe, so I have some back-to-school words of advice for those who feel the pressure: School isn’t a kewwl contest but a learning center! Smart is the new cool, anyway. 😎
By the way, congratulations, parents, on getting back your freedom! So I hear…
Any cool school stories?
It is not a celebration that inspires me to create anything personally, but that doesn’t mean I can’t create it for someone else. 🙂
Happy Father’s Day to the dads who from day one understood that parenting is a responsibility of two. On behalf of Earth, thanks for not being another disappointing scum. 🙂 Enjoy your day!