![]() To see what life was like, to get a little reminder on the moments that may have disappeared with the seasons. It’s a weird feeling, waiting to see what meant something to me months ago. I lost a couple rolls of film from this winter and recently found them. Everyone really is someone’s favorite artist and so are you. The places their heart is telling them to explore and they don’t owe us an explanation. Who are we to think we know the path someone should be on? The god they should believe or not believe in? The job they should take or turn down or quit? We don’t really know do we? Everyone has to follow the place that life is leading them to. ![]() Isn’t that true though? Who are we to discredit someones art or words or life just because it’s not our “cup of tea”. I read a line last night in the book i’m currently reading by Craig Taylor that said “Everyone is someone’s favorite artist.” I found my eyes circling back and back to that sentence. I’ll be back and then gone and back and then gone again ok!!). All of which will be gone for a bit (emphasis on bit. The film negatives, propagated plants, clothes that I won’t see for a while, and letters i’ve saved from all of the people I love. The billion cockroaches that just about give me a heart attack every time they fly when I try to kill them. I think about the wooden ladder I climb up every night and then down again because I have to pee and then up again to get into my little bed in my little loft. The tiny vases and cobalt blue glassware I recently bought and the crocs that I got in irony and ended up loving and now can’t wear in the summer because they make my feet sweat. Emotional about all the frayed journals covered in my messy all caps handwriting from the last 10 years that will collect dust for the next little while. As I write this, I can see the photo booth film strips standing up on my windowsill and I can’t help but get emotional. (Shoutout to my Step-dad for his help on this one). ![]() Is daunt a word? Can you feel my chaos? Anywho… I have to go buy boxes and had to google where to buy boxes and soon will be putting 3 years of life lived in Austin into cardboard boxes that will live within another box which we call a storage unit which is everyone’s favorite Sunday activity. Mostly because I’m about to move out of my house this weekend and we’re doing a big new launch at work and I have a happy hour to get to and too many things on my to do list that maybe a margarita will help ease the daunt I feel. I feel like this one will be short and sweet.
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