elise-by-year

[elise-by-year]

Written on the body: 2016 in photos.

,(This is the latest I have ever written this post, but the theme of 2016 has been “please be patient with me, I’m doing the best I can,” so it seems sort of appropriate.) 

New Year’s Day 

“What has been really nice about this year, I think, is that I kept a lot of it to myself. I spent time with the people that mattered to me and I didn’t feel like I needed to explain why things were important to me.” 

This is how I wrapped up the end of my 2015 post. The first hour of 2016 started with a boy yelling at me outside a bar, demanding to explain why I would want to be alone when he was willing to be my boyfriend. I went back to Moira’s apartment with Mae and Katie, where we snuggled up in one bed like we had done so many times in the nineteen years behind us. Later that day, Frank came over and fulfilled my Christmas wish for girl power and a gypsy curse (Hunger Makes Me A Modern Girl and a rusted sailor’s compass that spins around despite sitting still are sitting on my desk at this very moment). We had a horror movie marathon and killed a bottle of Jameson while we ate baby carrots and screeched on my couch. 

So, really, the first morning of 2016 started with this thought: Don’t let people who treat you unfairly stick around. Take a self portrait and move the hell forward.

January 

Photo: Juliette Sandleitner 

Photo: Alyssa Roth 

The rest of January was really good to me, despite some hard stuff. 

I went on a secret date with a mutual friend that turned into a lot of dates. I was advised by a lot of people not to, but I’m still glad I did and hope he’s glad too. I  went to a housewarming party that ended in me standing outside my ex’s house while it rained sideways and I tried to reason with myself. I don’t remember why you ran outside or what we talked about, but I remember hoping we wouldn’t have the opportunity to talk again so I wouldn’t need to keep choosing over and over. I decided that there is no real time to say good bye and that the things you love will eventually just stop showing up. 

A big snowstorm hit. I spent the better part of it walking through the streets with Frank and Finley, drinking bad whiskey from the fish flask and being grumpy old men. I drove up to the Ghost Ranch the moment the roads cleared and spent the day drinking basil gimlets in a snow fort and shoveling out people’s cars.

I went to Maria’s house to have a silly afternoon of shooting and eating burgers with her, Alyssa, Juliette (who I had not seen in over two years), Annalise, and Eden. All of the snow from the week before had melted almost overnight and it was warm enough to walk around without a coat. 

Other things about January: Mae and Katie and I founded B.Y.O.M. (bring your own mom), which basically just meant getting blitzed off $2 margaritas with our moms. I went to visit Max and saw the “woods behind my house” that I had been hearing about for the better half of the year and watched The Prisoner. Mae and I went to brunch a lot and got a matching pair of parking tickets. I started working at a tequila bar with Frank. 

Most importantly, maybe, was the beginning of the thought that I wasn’t doing what I should be doing. 

February 

“Rabbit, Rabbit”

February was another big month. I housesat for my godfather and spent a week and a half with my golden retriever babe counterpart, Mollie. Mae and I got accidentally-on-purpose mimosa drunk and met Cory Booker at a Clean Ocean Action rally. Max came to visit; I cut his beard and showed him Pershing Field, where we saw the best sunset I’ve ever seen in person. I took my shoes off and broke some pieces of ice in the ocean with my bare toes. 

I made a weird (but, in retrospect, funny) mistake, had a bad day, and saw a different sunset in the same spot with Frank. Mae and I got into a fight and made up. It snowed again. I made a bunch of Star Wars valentines. I went to Max’s birthday (X-Files pennant in tow) and met twenty people in one night. Meg and I hung out alone for the first time and got a little drunk at a Bond St. music video filming while making new friends and dragging egotistical boys.

I went on the worst! Date! Of all! Time! It’s my favorite anecdote now. I’m still convinced I was on a prank show somewhere.

Frank and I saw Jenny Lewis perform her Rabbit Fur Coat ten year anniversary show, which ended up being one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. I watched Jenny Lewis, tiny and string and mighty, reduced a sold-out 2,900 seat house to pin-drop silence when she sang Happy without a mic. 

Frank and I saw another show a week later (Mary Lattimore/Julia Holter) and ate clementines and giggled about the secacu pail tation and decided that most things in life can be sorted out in the morning (unless you sleep through work the next day, which I did). 

This was also the drunken movie night couch sesh that ended with a reprimand from my mother because she was worried Frank was going to drunkenly freeze to death in the snow walking the two blocks back to his house. To this day, Frank claims my mother is the only one who has ever worried about him actually dying in a ditch.

Excessive amounts of laughing and drinking with Frank aside, I started spending a lot of time alone and celebrating that. I started a little series about documenting my life alone vs. with a partner, as this was my first year alone in almost four years. 

I went to the Cold War Surf party with Brie and Dave and spent most of the night talking to their friend about PA school. I hadn’t seen Dave since the summer and I hadn’t seen Brie so happy in a long while. I went on a date with a photographer the next day and left early because I felt sick. He said leap days cause bad luck and universal unsteadiness, but I told him it was just a  hangover. It was the flu. 

March 

Spent the first week of March melted to my couch with the flu. I shook myself out of it just in time to make a job interview and meet Vicky for her week back in America. We spent too much money on burgers in Crown Heights, but I was so happy to see her and so sad to say good bye. She played me a love song she recorded on her phone while I battled my way through Brooklyn traffic to drop her off.

My flight for Anna Kate’s wedding in Georgia was the next day. It was my first time taking a plane on my own and my first time being a bridesmaid. It feels a little cheap to write about this now, honestly- I think I felt better in four days than I’d felt all year. I finally got to see my best college friend’s town and house and family and meet her in-laws. Everyone was so kind and warm and accommodating (even the Georgia weather) and I really felt a great deal of sadness when I left. 

Back at home, it snowed a little more and I showed Frank and Finley my secret beach. The tide was too high to make it to the voodoo bunker, so we stuck a pin in it. The pin’s there for now, along with other things. We started spending a lot of nights in his backyard raging with the fire pit, baby carrots, and a witch of the wood. 

I spent a lot of March in a weird place and living in terms of “this time last year.” It felt like there were a million other Elises living their lives differently just out of my periphery. Still with Alex, still in school, someplace I couldn’t imagine. I knew I didn’t want any of those things, really, but I got caught up in the missing and the wanting instead of trying to change my life. 

I was still seeing a person I shouldn’t have been seeing, letting myself feel guiltier and guiltier. I went to Meg’s show in West Long Branch and drank a milkshake (because I wasn’t through pretending I wasn’t lactose intolerant) and it was sick-sweet and I sat on a barstool sick and sweet and sad, a stomach to match a mood. 

Brighter side: Mae and Frank and I went to see Girlpool, found a Jurassic Park themed bathroom in a pho place, and didn’t get ticketed parking in Brooklyn. My two best friends got along so well and it made me feel appreciative and lame and lucky. 

I think March is when I started seeing a reporter, but I’m not sure now. 

April 

April was good and bad. I went on a lot of interviews for jobs I didn’t want, went on a lot of dates with a reporter I liked, and went for a lot of walks with different people. My anxiety was mean, uncontrollable, and manifested physically most days. Wilco got sick at the beginning of the month and I spent a lot of time curled up in bed with him, which was something I needed almost as much as he did. We were both tired out and needed each other. 

I turned 24, and it was the first birthday I wasn’t sad about for a long time. Mae, Brie, and I celebrated two birthdays at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden and had the nicest day. Mae made me a Twin Peaks necklace on the laser cutter and I don’t think I’ve ever been more careful with another piece of jewelry. 

I had lunch with an ex and they asked me to come back, which I could not bear to consider. 

Still, I was happy. Things were nice, and I was happy and appreciative. When things were good, I felt like if all of life were that nice, I wouldn’t appreciate anything. The bad days made the good ones, if that makes sense. If I woke up miserable and cranky, I knew I’d be better for it, because every nice thing might feel even a fraction as good as a truly good day. It’s a backwards way to live, but it was how I was living at the time. 

I saw Colin Hay with Mike, the reporter, and Frankie Cosmos/Eskimeaux with Frank. The Frankie show was the first time we were one of the oldest people in the audience, and we celebrated by eating Cracker Barrel and wearing plastic sandals. We also spent a lot of time raging in the backyard, firing up Finley, and witching in the woods. One day I met all three cats, hung out with his whole family for the first time in the longest time, and we found out worms move really fast. Like, really fast, guys. Also, a tub of pretzel rods that had been moving between our houses finally met it’s bitter end. 

I don’t know how I forgot about this until now, but Frank and I also saw Rihanna the day before my birthday and then followed it up with a visit to the Wonder Bar on my birthday, which was much less eventful and involved leaving Frank to talk to someone from high school while I danced. If a human look could convey that shriek R2D2 does, that would be the look Frank was giving me at that moment.

I went to visit Max again. We split a turkey sandwich, helped his mom set up a printer, and went off-roading in the pine barrens.

Erica and I tried to go biking at Sandy Hook, but I popped my tire shoving my bike into the trunk. We walked up and down the bayside of the hook, flew kites, and visited the voodoo beach before it got dark.

Went on a few brunch dates with Mike, accompanied by some of my friends and then his dog and then alone. He was a good sport when Mae and Taylor accused him of being a murderer for having two phones and his dog’s name started with an L and that is honestly and truly all I can remember about this person I knew for the better part of two months. 

May

The Dead End Kids \m/ 

May was filled with work and friends and more work. Starting with work: I began my stint with the escape room, which proved to be a nonstop hell ride where I met a handful of really good pals, including Shayne and Laura. It’s also where I started put all of my weird feelings and doubts to bed, which was a good feeling after a long time. I also started working at Stone Dog, a female-founded scenic shop that had just moved to my hometown. It was good to be doing carpentry and design nonstop with patient and fun coworkers. At this point, I was already making plans to go back to school, so the enormous pressure I had felt at my previous creative jobs had up and vanished. I felt nervous, free, excited for my life, and happy with a secret. I was still at the tequila bar, but I was working most of my shifts with Frank and had hit a happy groove with my routine. 

My mom and I got drunk at mother’s day brunch and my dad needed to pack us into the backseat to drive us home. I was still seeing Mike at this point, I think, and other Mike (my favorite bartender) asked me about him. We broke things off a week later for lack of feelings, and I wish every conversation could be as easy as that one. 

Katie graduated, which left me in happy, proud tears. She came home and slept for a full day. 

I went kayaking with Erica and her (at the time) new boyfriend, Timmy. It was the last time I saw her with blue hair and the first time I saw her so happy with a partner. They’re still together and, while I don’t see her as often lately, I’m happy when I think about where she is in her life. 

Waj joined the Peace Corps and had a going away barbecue before he left for China. That was one of my favorite nights of the summer. Mae and I decided to bike (which was a way better decision when we were sober and not drunkenly trying to get uphill so we could go to bed at 2 am). We started a wheels gang called the Dead End Kids with Jake, Nick, Luke, and Paul. Little did we know, we’d be starting the summer’s most potent curse, but more on that later. Anyways, it was nice to reunite with people I really, really loved while saying good bye to one of our best. 

I had many more backyard nights with my great aunts / wiz bang gang / goo goo dogs  (Frank + Finley). 

June 

When you realize you matched your outfits and your ice cream cones 

June started off in Annapolis, Maryland, where Stone Dog had sent me for a set install.  I would go on to install an MTV set a week later and throw up in a gender-neutral bathroom between raising Hollywood flats a week and a half later.

Robbie graduated, which was one of the best days. We had a graduation party two weeks later with our whole family, which was weird and surprisingly nice. Colin and Ashley also had a barbecue to celebrate their new house and engagement. 

Mae and Frank and I went to our second big concert together (well, Northside Festival). We saw Wolf Parade, ate vegan ice cream, played with tiny hands and street sharks, and laughed way too much and often. We also all matched outfits like any proper girl gang. 

The biggest update of them all came in June: telling my family about my intention to go back to school and become a physician’s assistant. To save time, here’s my post from June about it: 

“After a year of working perfect, career-making carpentry and set design jobs, I’m realizing the reason I’ve been miserable for five years hasn’t been because my personal strides in life and mental health haven’t been good enough. It’s because I truly hate what I do. 

I love carpentry, and I love art and design. I feel the small rush of job satisfaction every once in a while, but it shouldn’t take a 24 hr Thanksgiving Day Parade shift to give me joy. This career has only made me feel small and useless, and my contempt for feeling like what I’m doing doesn’t matter has only grown over time. I’m twenty four. I shouldn’t be so consistently unhappy with what I’m doing. I should have been feeling joy when I was nineteen and going to school for set design, not utter annihilation.

I can blame my professors or that one summer or sexism in the workplace, but I can’t make excuses for all of those nights when I was eighteen and nineteen and wishing I had gone into the medical field. I can’t ignore being twenty two and twenty three and twenty four and feeling like my life was over and that I had made the biggest mistake of my life. I’m so young and I have so much velocity and I will never, ever have as much energy as I do now to make a change. 

I’ve had the best possible run in the art field and will continue to do so while I complete the undergraduate prerequisites required to pursue being a physician’s assistant. I know this sounds like a big announcement, but it really isn’t- I just need a small outlet (this blog) to take a baby step and feel like I have a little support while I transition into a new part of my life. 

I feel good. I feel so good. While I was in college, I didn’t plan for growing up and being an adult with a career. I planned on being a girl who would die from depression before I ever needed to make longterm plans for happiness. The past few weeks of planning have been some of the happiest days of adulthood I’ve ever felt. I feel so renewed and I can’t wait for it, all of it- studying and volunteering and going into a new career humbled and vulnerable and ready to learn.

Anyways, there it is- somewhere.

It’s time to lean the hell in.”

So, there it is. I was finally moving forward, registering for prerequisite classes, and seeking out EMS shifts for my volunteer hours. I’d been planning it for months, but I knew I wouldn’t have much time to think once I started. I was keeping up my hours at escape room, working on designs for a new room, and counting on that job to carry me through classes. 

Other things: Getting close and then very far away from a coworker and friend, putting all of my trust in the wrong people, a drunk girl reading my palm from the sidewalk outside the bar, and the end of a long soreness while I watched someone I cared about very much fall in love. 

July 

I didn’t take a single photo with my camera in July. July was a rush of plastic bag cellphone photos, cherry-stained teeth, and fourteen hour work days. Work at the escape room was both really good and really bad. I was getting closer to Shayne and Laura, managing my own schedule, and had a constant influx of weird projects and challenges. It was, however, coming at a cost: growing anxieties about being around people who both wanted and despised me, dealing with our crook of a boss, spending too many hours and too much money, and not prioritizing other things. On the bright side, I did get a perfect grade in my first responder respiratory class.

It was around this time that Frank and I started talking seriously about moving in together, which is sweet and a little dumb in retrospect. I had just agreed to take on five more years of school, so I don’t know why I thought shaking up my living arrangements could be in the cards for me. We also had an incredibly uncomfortable third of July, giggled about handwrittens, and saved the backyard witch from burning.

Mae moved home and started working on the boardwalk, so I spent a lot of time running her hoagitos and taking walks up and down the boardwalk alone until she was done closing up shop. Thoughts on Mae at this time: “Super thankful all the time for a best friend who constantly makes me feel like I deserve everything, even if I don’t feel like I deserve her when we’re apart.”

Also: Modest Mouse x Brand New at the Mann in Philly, which involved mixing Mae / Brie / Dave with Shayne. Also saw the Dolphin clan (and actually, now that I think of it, this may have been the last time I saw Max). 

Frank had to drop out of our Panorama plans last-minute, so Mae and I had an unbelievably cool day on Randall’s Island. We ate popsicles, stood in lots of lines, and proved that we could find a pair of hammocks in literally any environment. We saw The Front Bottoms, Kurt Vile, and (in one of the few self-actualizing moments of my short life) LCD Soundsystem. It was a hundred degrees, but it turns out Mae’s longtime wet neck bandana trick had actually become a fashion staple in 2016, so we fit in with the best of them. 

Also: Went on a few dates with the local candy factory owner’s son, was still too old for me, can never visit Old M’ Candies again. 

Also also: Started the most ill-advised project with Shayne and Luke at escape room. The only positive was getting to build things (like a glow in the dark table) and a lot of gin and tonics. 

Also also also: Ill-advised lifeguard stand kisses at Birthmae, starting another cycle I do not regret. 

Also also also also: Wishing I had listened to A and kept someone at an arm’s length. 

August

August was mostly good, partly bad. The “mostly” is the things that happened and the people I spent my time with, the “partly” is everything I let myself get caught up in. 

I met a girl in a bar that told me ghosts come in intervals of three years, and I thought about that a lot in the coming weeks. Felt raw and wide open to things that were far behind me and let myself get caught in that cycle of grief. 

Was still at escape room every day, fighting the good (and sometimes petty) fight. Shayne and I started taking turns throwing knives into the wall and spackling the holes back up a lot, at least. We also packed in a car to Pennsylvania to see Frank and Sarah in their play. 

I went to Colorado with my family and saw landscapes I hadn’t ever seen, took too few pictures, and spent most of my time profoundly distracted by my future.

Mae and I saw a lot of movies on the roof of the Baronet, Dave and I finally saw our overdue Night Vale live show, and I made more and more ill-advised decisions I just cannot regret. 

I finally drove up to visit Loretta after a year or two of phone conversations, KFC and white zinfandel in tow (her request). I was only the second visitor she had since moving into the nursing home a month and a half prior. I didn’t know how to explain her to my friends- “my dead friend’s grandmother” just didn’t seem appropriate, but “a friend almost four times my age” didn’t either. 

I also had my first friend date with Laura. We split a basket of fries with a dog on the patio of Bond St. and then waited patiently after that dog fell asleep on me, went to a show at the Parlor Gallery, visited Mae on the boardwalk, and got our futures read by a group of chain-vaping psychics. My psychic said I was full of darkness and stone and that my sister’s name started with a K. Laura’s psychic said she would marry someone soon and we both cackled our way down the boardwalk. 

Had my last backyard rage night with Frank in August. It feels stubborn to write it down, but. He was falling in love and that was a good thing.

We got sushi and sake drunk and he decided to go fully vegetarian, so that was Frank’s last memory of fish.

September 

(One day before breaking my foot) 

The very first things that happened in September: becoming the fourth victim of the Dead End Kids summer of ‘16 curse. After that polaroid was taken, Nick broke his collarbone long boarding, Jake broke his entire body long boarding, Paul broke his elbow longboarding, and I broke my foot in four places longboard jousting. (I named my longboard Lance, both for the 90′s gay undertones and the jousting). Mae and Luke made it through the rest of the year unscathed. 

So the rest of the fall happened on an air cast, which was weird and embarrassing and my second time on crutches in two years. 

I started Medical Terminology, my first class since my decision to go back to school. I was tired and broke and broken, but that class made me feel like my life was moving in a good direction.

Luke and Shayne and I were close to finishing up our escape room, exhausted and dead inside. This is probably the last time I’ll mention it. An entitled boy made me uncomfortable and unhappy at every opportunity. Work in September was the most negative part of my life (my year) and I don’t really care to think about it more than that.  

Shayne and Laura and I continued our Monday Fundays, playing lots of shuffleboard and drinking too much gin for a weekday. In a weird way, I made more friends in a cast than I did without one. Alex started showing up, which was easy and weird and nice. We spent some time talking about a girl we both loved a whole lot and I remember feeling like it was a stroke of unbelievable, overwhelming luck for life to work out this way.

The second annual Maker’s Fest happened, in a new location and three times the size as the year before. Mae was doing henna, so I bopped (clunked) around catching up with vendors and talking to new ones.

Mae and I celebrated our twenty year anniversary living across the street from each other and being best friends. I get real sappy talking about this and I’m trying to keep this all business, so here’s some thoughts on that: “My best friend has been my best friend for 5/6 of my life and that fraction is just going to become wider and deeper as we get older. Mae is one of those people that make you marvel at the capacity of your own heart and wonder how you could ever love someone more than you do right now and I am so, so profoundly lucky to have her in my life.”

Frank and I saw Bruce Springsteen play his longest show in history, a record he broke the next day and the next. He sang every favorite, every B-side, every song we’d driven through downtown Freehold blasting at 3 am since we were 17. It was unbelievable. It was also the last significant period of time I spent with one of my best friends, so I think about that night pretty often.

Also, I spent a lot of time on the beach shivering and finding the seven sisters. 

October 

“Your chest is wide open and yawning and you heart fills the room it inhabits and I wonder how you aren’t eroded away to dust by now.”

October was getting to know someone new, really trying to make myself a little more open to make space for all of the new people I cared about, missing my best friends, and trying to take pictures. Despite the good stuff, I was feeling very emotionally spent.

Became closer and closer with Shayne, was happy and appreciative for life throwing me a person so good. Thought about the cyclicality of my life and relationships, how I was making another dent in another passenger seat as my space in another faded away.

We left the bar one night and kept driving and ended up on the dirt JCP+L road I had found a few summers before. We watched fog roll over the pond and parked in the middle of the woods to look at the stars. I marked “star night- shayne” on my calendar so I wouldn't forget it, but it seems cheap to try and write about it now.

Shayne and Laura and Alex and I went on a last-minute vacation to Sleepy Hollow on Halloween weekend. I don’t think Elise from a year ago would believe that, and if she did, she wouldn’t buy that I had a genuinely good time. We watched bad horror movies, had an outdoor fire, and worried about getting murdered by our preppy Airbnb host. Apparently Hillary Clinton was walking around those same woods that very same weekend, but we didn’t see her.

Dan and I went to a Devil’s game and took loads of embarrassing pictures. I stared to realize that I was slowly becoming a partner.

Mae and I went as Neve Campbell and Bruce Campbell for Halloween, the closest to a couple’s costume we had ever gotten. It was the first time I had seen her all month. Halloween was a weird night for me ultimately, but Mae was the best part.

November 

“the earthly and obvious parts if me are touching your face and repeating a strumming “this is a person who loves you”

but there’s a loop, a pause, a gap in the human condition 

endless separations and connections, tidal and vascular 

falling out of orbit is much easier than fighting your way back in”

What can I say about November? Trump won the presidency, Dan and I spent the weekend hiking, I broke up with Dan, and I spent a lot of time alone on the beach. I got my cast off, put my bare feet in the sand, and waited for clarity. 

All of my siblings were home at once. Frank and I went on a walk, I worried that Finley would not recognize me, Finley knocked me over. There’s a lot to say about fish flasks and nerves and secrets multiplied into a shared burden twice the size, but I won’t say any of it. It had been a long time and I felt sick and sad and nervous. 

I took a self portrait I really, really liked. It was one of those portraits where recognized myself. 

Still, November was a month of disconnect and I wondered how many hearts I would dig through before I found my own.

December 

December was long and happy and lazy. 

I made two knives, applied to jobs, babysat my golden retriever counterpart. My siblings and I were in the same house all at once. I got strep throat and spent four days glued to a bed. I got the highest grade in my medical terminology class and my teacher asked me to apply to the school she worked at when the time came. I missed Frank, Mae came home.

Lexi came to New York with Jesse and Carl. I took eight pictures, learned how to play pool, and talked about my hometown too much.

I wrote this, and it’s all I can bring myself to say about the rest of December/my overwhelming luck:

“sometimes I feel so pitch-black, so lacking and longing

you are so unconcerned with my surface and shortness and shortcomings and I just do not know how you are so gasping and wide open, so ready for me at any moment

and I think of the constant draft, the tiny bites on rawness that you must feel to be so vulnerable for me at all times”

What can I say about 2016? It already feels so far behind me. I guess there’s a simple logic to doing a year in review in 2016 and not nine days later. Time is pushing ahead and I am too. It’s the same belief that keeps me honest with my loved ones: “Say it all now, because you are running out of time.”

I never know what to do here. Usually I get to the end of my review and feel heavy with loss or exhaustion. Sometimes I’m angry, and I can feel smoke ribbons coming out from between my teeth and making knots in the air around me. It’s hard, digging up the evidence of your life month-by-month and trying to put words to the sum of your parts. You think you have the shape of it, that you’ve smoothed it out into something you can understand, and then a sharp edge catches your finger and you’re bleeding all over again. It’s hard to be honest, to look your past in the eyes until it blinks first, and it’s even harder to be surprised by it. I am so many different moving objects all at once, flickers and beats and wanting. My past isn’t going to stay still just because I want it to.

This year feels different. Does distance grant clarity, or does change? Was this an easy year, or was it just productive? I went into this year looking over my shoulder, waiting for the things I had pushed aside to catch up to me. I realized that the thing I feared had already happened to me and was getting further and further away as time moved on. I realized that making a mistake did not mean I needed to waste my entire life trying to adapt to it. I started to let people grow on me instead of holding them at an arm’s length. (Actually- I really, really loved the people I loved and started to love myself just as much or more.) I let myself make mistakes, indulged in tiny failures, and built a lot of furniture. I hustled, I planned, I rode my longboard. I got good grades (grades!) and got stoked about school. I feel weird and good, even if things look a little shaky and transitional written down.

Here’s how I ended my 2015 year in review:

“Anyways- 2015 was really, really good to me, and I was really, really good to myself. I don’t have expectations for 2016, and I don’t have any goals besides pushing forward. By this time next year, I want to be looking back and remembering 2016 as hard and good progress into a life I want.”

And here I am. I already know 2017 is going to be about hustle, change, and working for the things I want. 

[elise-by-year]

And all the badness, too; 2015 in photos.

“I need to be better this year

I need to be kinder and better to and for everyone, especially myself

because how I am right now cannot be my life for the rest of my life. I’m just the tiniest cell in a working body and I need to make my short time here count.”

January started off with a lot of tough self-reflection and realizing that I did not like who I was, where I had placed myself, or where I would end up if I stayed comfortable. Living home had caught up with me in a big way, and my life had become a cyclical beast that I did not like: waitressing shifts, bar shows, sleeping in. I wasn’t taking care of myself. I wasn’t investing in the things and people I loved, and the repercussions were burying me.

January started off like that, but January 13th brought the best part of my year. Alex and I brought home a scruffy little monster cat named Wilco. If everything else this year went bad for me, it wouldn’t matter- Wilco is the best part of my day, every day. I started taking care of him and became accountable for taking care of myself. I spent less time out  and more time in my bedroom making things and snugglin’ my new bud.

Other things: Twin Peaks hit Netflix and life was an endless dream. Katie went to Ireland for a semester abroad. Alex was endlessly wonderful and we spent our time snuggling Wilco, watching scary movies, and bundling up to play guitar and nap on the hammock outside his door. He learned all of my favorite songs and spent as much time as he could at my house, despite being horribly allergic to Wilco. He really was my best friend at this time of my life.

“am I making sense

like, am I making any sense

who do I even have to talk to anymore, who do I belong to other than myself. I look at the people who love me and just think ‘I am not yours to keep’”

February was a lot of job interviews, a lot of frozen beaches, and a lot of questions about who would still be in my life in the close future. I almost moved to Connecticut (I bought two pans and got Wilco a carry case), I felt a lot of feelings about Leo and Alex was surprisingly patient and kind about that, Katie got very sick in Ireland and came back to be loved and snuggled for a few days, The Ghost Cave became the Ghost Ranch, and I became very disenchanted with a majority of my close friends.

I started thinking about all of the people I loved and actually enjoyed being around and wondered why I didn’t invest my time and love in them.

Frank and I saw Sleater Kinney and everything felt better and I think that was my true New Year’s. “Elise, this is the summer we become a woman.” (A singular woman)

I got a job at Yale as a summer photographer and was very, very stoked on it. More on that later.

March was really, really good.

March started with a salmon dinner and avocado pudding and a short and devastating fight over a screw. Someone threw a glass at me at work. I started to really, really realize that I needed to change my life, and fast.

I started doing yoga once a week with Missy. I started taking photos all the damn time. I took self-portraits nearly every day, shot the rest of my Alchemy Kids series (which, honestly, might never hit the light of day), and I started taking my camera everywhere to document the things and people I really, really loved. Events didn’t interest me as much as the people I wanted to spend my time with.

I interviewed with a devastatingly famous photographer’s team (which never worked out past a few hours, but the experience and excitement was worth the place it owns on my timeline). I interviewed with the Macy’s Parade Studio. I spent a really, really nice day with Maria Alba on a frozen basketball court in New Brunswick and realized two things: Maria is wonderful and her friendship means so much more than a shared interest. And- and this is important- the only thing that was keeping me from spending significant time with people I wanted to be friends with was me.

This realization turned into three-house coffee dates with Devon, aimlessly wandering Asbury Park taking yoga photos with Missy, and big plans with Erica, who I had always wanted to be close with.

Also: Last-minute gig taking photos at Chris and Courtney’s courthouse wedding, falling deeper and deeper in love with Wilco, learning how to do a headstand.

April was full of long, happy days and investing my time and energy into people who mattered to me. The month started off with my bomb-ass Twin Peaks birthday party (complete with a spiked coffee and donut bar, the most accurate costumes I had ever seen, and two awesome punches). Alyssa Roth, an unbelievably cool photographer I met thanks to the internet, came decked out in the best dirndl skirt I’ve ever seen. (We went on a little walk and took birthday portraits, too!)

The Backstage series was featured in Wagner’s union gallery, something I had tried and failed to do while I was a student there.  I also stopped by the theater while all of my pals were working on Cats. Honestly, it was strange to be at Wagner, a place I had called my home for four years, and feel like an intruder. It was nice to see everyone, though.

Another thing: April marks the month Erica and I became friends. We went to beaches and zoos and shows and spent time soaking in her bath tub and making basil gimlets. I’m notoriously terrible at making a keeping friends, but spending time with Erica only cemented the idea that she and I were meant to be in each other’s lives.

Bad note: Alex and I were growing less and less patient with one another. He came to my house for the last time in April.

May: I spent a shift at work holding a hummingbird that had flown into a glass window until it perked up and went on it’s way. That night, Alex and I broke up.

Erica and I fed some deer carrots and got into a yelling match with some turkeys and by the end of the week Alex and I were back together. I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing, but I also wasn’t sure if I was ready to obliterate my social life and go at it alone. I don't know if it was fair to either of us in the long run, but we both wanted to give it another shot and I’m glad we did. The next two months were nice, despite the bad things that happened.

Other things: Drew up a concept and shot some really cool stuff for Fun While You Wait, Went to Asbury Lanes for what would end up being the last time, saw The Replacements with Frank (and a little part of me that had died inside came back to life), and realized what a gem Erica was when a gas attendant made fun of me and she yelled at them, then got a little gentler, and said “When you say things like that to women, ask yourself if your mother would be happy with you.”

June was two opposite ends of the spectrum on any given day. Two friends died on the same day in two separate car crashes and that was very bad. (This ended up being the event that ultimately ended a relationship and three friendships). I had to surrender my position at Yale and that was bad. There was a theme of people I loved being mean to me and being mean to the people I loved and that was bad. My life felt like it was at a tipping point of being completely out of hand and that was bad.

But. I spent a lot of time kayaking with Erica and that was good. I spent a lot of time kayaking, period, and that was good. I decided to quit my terrible job and that was good. I spent a day walking through the rain int he Brooklyn Botanical garden and drinking weird, squared bubble tea and that was good. Robbie got cleared by CHOP two years after his spinal surgery, and that was fucking good. I left for Ireland, and that was very, very, very good.

I don’t know if I can write about Ireland. Traveling abroad with my extended family, celebrating at an Irish wedding, and seeing as many corners of a country as we could in 12 days was so meaningful and crazy and good. I never wrote about Ireland here or any other kind of social media, and I’d probably like to keep it that way.

Anyways. Ireland was meaningful, and it ended up being a turning point for me.

July was a big month. It started with coming back from Ireland and immediately quitting my job. More specifically, it started with rushing from the airport to the ghost ranch and feeling sad and sick and hopeful for things I wasn’t sure I wanted. The break in my heart split all the way to the bottom and I knew there was no repairing it until I was alone.

Alex and I broke up. He cut his hair, I let mine grow, and we began to live separate lives. I stopped seeing my longtime friends and started spending all of my time with Erica, Mae, and, most importantly, myself. I was single for the first time in almost four years and I felt sad and open and raw and ready to belong to myself.

The month ended with birthmae, and birthmae ended with me floating on my back naked in the ocean with Katie, Mae, and Brie while Frank, Phill, and Finley guarded our clothes. I said, “I haven’t felt this good in ten years. When I’m in the shit a year from now, keep me here with you.” Brie and Mae both held my hands on either side of me and all of the loss, which usually came brutal and hot and uninvited, smoothed itself out neatly in front of me and said, “Look at all of the space you have to fill.”

Also, Wilco released his new album and I was very proud of him.

August. I spent a very, very nice afternoon with Missy taking yoga photos, talking about love and loss, and eating really good paninis. I’m really, really proud of all of the work I have done with Missy. She’s such an open, powerful person and I always feel like I’m orbiting around a force of nature when she goes through her yoga practice. She just has a way of coaxing the best parts out of people.

I also spent a good amount of time in the city taking photos and seeing people who are important to me. Lisa hired me to shoot some photos for Gwynnie Bee, which began with professionalism and ended with skipping to chipotle and talking about boys. I went to see April and Alex and met their kitten and saw April’s improv show in Chinatown. Alex and I had a long walk back to the train and talked about important stuff and I remembered why my friends are my friends.

August also brought Max, a friendly dolphin, to shore. I took him to my favorite spot and we explored some bunkers and saw a baby bull shark swim out of the salt marsh. It was an improbably good day and I was happy to have it, despite some poor timing.

I also started running the bar cart at a new golf club, seeing someone I shouldn’t have been seeing, and spending a lot of time drinking tequila after work with Katie. August was a good month.

 September was the best and biggest and greatest month and I want to write about it in exclamation points! But I won’t, mostly.

Maria came to visit me and I took her to my favorite spot. We talked about podcasts and education and love and dogs. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it 100 more times- I’m so happy for the internet and the people it has brought me, and I’m so happy that those friendships have bloomed behind shared interests.

Mae moved to New York to go to design school. My favorite person int he world was living her goddamn dream and everything about that was (and still is) great.

I got kidney stones and threw up a lot.

Brie and I fought, then made up. Mae and I went down to go to Maker’s Fest, a year-long project Brie had dreamed up with a team of fellow makers to save Beach View Farms. It was incredible to see all of Brie’s hard work turn into such a successful, well-made event. Brie has made a basement-made passion into a career, and that is beyond cool.

The best part of September: I started working at the Macy’s Parade Studio as a carpenter. After a year of bartending and waitressing and feeling terrible, I was finally doing the thing I loved.

Also: Meggie and Ray got married! I saw Vicky and Amanda and Tom and Regina and all of my closest friends from college. The eclipse happened during the reception and we all hiked up our dresses to sit on a Brooklyn rooftop and watch it.

Alex and I tried to meet up and it ended very badly, and with a lot of anger.

“I looked my past right into the eyes and it blinked first.”

October began with a coffee date, familiar knuckles, and a self portrait. Alex and I momentarily thought about wandering back together. I finally got the go-ahead to spend time at the Ghost Ranch again, but realized I didn’t really want to be there very often anymore. I had a very emotionally exhausting week and realized that all of my decisions have been for the best.

Luke and Erica and I explored some castle ruins and I peed on the top of a mountain as the sun began to set. We ate pizza in silence at a Pinnochio-themed pizza restaurant and it was just as weird as it sounds.

Wilco and I dressed up as Steve Zissou and the jaguar shark for Halloween. I spent the rest of the night walking around New York with Mary Katharine Gallagher and took a train ride with some muppets.

Most importantly, I got up at 3:30 every morning to drive to my dream job. Who knows if I did it well, but I loved the parade studio and had boundless energy for it.

November was the month of four thanksgivings and long, rewarding work weeks.

The parade was absolutely insane and wonderful and I don’t think I’ll ever have a cooler shift at any other job. Honestly, I don’t know if I’ll ever have a cooler job. Looking at these pictures is a little hard now, but it’s nice to know that a job that really fulfills me is out there.

I also went on a date that turned into lots of dates.

Other things: Lots of brunches, seeing a story with a ghost in it, Frank driving up to Moonachie to see all of the things I worked on.

Had friendsgiving, which was a little rocky. Wilco wore a sweater and that made everything better.

Gained a lot of agency, finally knew that the places I shared and loved with someone else still belonged to me.

November is more important than I’m letting on, but anyways.

December: My time at the parade studio came to an end. Immediately comforted myself by seeing Sleater Kinney for the second goddamn time this year. Fred Armisen showed up and sang Rock Lobster. Frank and I reached self-actualization.

Finally showed Erica my favorite place, where I had taken Alex, Katie, Max, and Maria. We found fistfuls of sea glass and I watched the tide come in and the sun go down from a tire surrounded on all sides by water. It was a nice and fitting end to the year.

Dan and I saw Alex in Spring Awakening, which was a theater experience I’m actually very grateful to have had. Alex was goddamned amazing and I was really, really proud of him. Afterwards we went to a bar where devastatingly famous broadway actors hang out and saw the sights.

I released the first part of a collaboration I did with Her Cedar Closet, a possibly disastrous shoot that churned out some good work.

I had a hot tub party with Erica and Ivan and Melany and got appropriately drunk while dressed as a lifeguard and smelling like 50 bath bombs and it was great. Again reminded of how much I miss and love Alex sometimes, but that everything that has happened has been for the best.

I spent Christmas drinking Jameson and gingers with Mae, Brie, and Katie in the garage while I drunkenly built and wood burned a beer tote for Dan. I kept all of my fingers and did not burn myself and that boggles me.

2015 has been a really, really important year. Usually I have a lot to say about myself, quite frankly- I want to be self-aware, and personal growth and change and reflection are important to me.

What can I say about this year? I got a cat. I quit a job that I hated. I was alone for the first time in a long time and I bloomed from that. I gained back the agency I lost and am continuing to do so. I am happy and alone and investing all of my love and energy into the people who matter to me. It was a hard year, but a good one, and I’m getting out of it more whole than I thought I would be.

This wrap-up isn’t as eloquent as it’s been in the past, but I feel okay with that. I know what’s important to me, and it isn’t grasping to explain myself anymore. What has been really nice about this year, I think, is that I kept a lot of it to myself. I spent time with the people that mattered to me and I didn’t feel like I needed to explain why things were important to me.

Anyways- 2015 was really, really good to me, and I was really, really good to myself. I don’t have expectations for 2016, and I don’t have any goals besides pushing forward. By this time next year, I want to be looking back and remembering 2016 as hard and good progress into a life I want.

[elise-by-year]

Too Close For Comfort: 2014 in photos.

January, like most other Januarys, started off strong. Leo came to New Jersey and started helping me make art again. I explored abandoned houses and spent a lot of time in the orchards. I saw Against Me! with Frank and fulfilled some middle school dreams. I came back to school and immediately started auditions for my second installment of A Very Potter Musical. It was silly, but it was scary and felt good to be going at it alone as a sole director. I still wasn't happy about my living situation, but I was ready to swallow some pride and give my friendships a real shot.

February was good and bad. I was both very deeply in love and very divided by what would happen after graduation. I savored every second with him and learned to enjoy the moments we spent apart as well. My senior thesis started to devour me, but I made time for being home too. It was the first time I felt I belonged exclusively to myself in a while. In a sad but sort of funny turn of events, I got a cease and desist from Warner Brothers and needed to cancel AVPM. I was disappointed, but I knew my upcoming workload was going to annihilate me and was thankful for the extra 100 hours to devote to projects.

March! I'm going to do March in two parts because it was both a very validating time for my art and a very important and wonderful chapter in my relationship and friendship with Leo. The beginning of March was divided between my backstage series and my senior design class. The Drowsy Chaperone was an incredible experience and was probably one of my favorite installments in my Backstage series. As of right now, it's my last installment (unless I find the lost Carousel flashdrive). The show itself was a marvel and something for my class to be proud of.

The second half of March was, without a doubt, one of the happiest times of my life. Leo and I finally went through with our plans to visit Maine, his childhood home, over spring break. I got to meet his Maine family, see the houses he grew up in (and the treehouse his dad built!), eat at his favorite restaurants, and experience every story he had ever told me about Maine in real time. Every beach we explored and drive we took was a precious and irreplaceable memory for me. Meeting and staying with Leo's dad was also so incredible and important to me.

Even though looking back on this time is very hard, I can't help but feel warm and happy knowing that these memories are mine. 

April started with a visit from my sister and my Cosmos-themed 22nd birthday party. Leo and I got the opportunity to visit Long Island (our little safe haven from school) once before my schoolwork consumed me. April will forever be known as the month I stayed awake for 68 hours to finish a school project and lost my sense of taste for a few days afterwards. I don't have the final photos of that endeavor, but I did dig up a picture of my ten-hour set design (ten hours to design, draft, and build a design is unheard of and I was super proud). Despite the work, senior design studio was slashing my confidence to ribbons. I started to regret not dropping out when I was 19 and pursing PA school.

April was also the last full month I had living closely to Leo. While it wasn't the best month in terms of stress and schoolwork, I wanted every day to last just a while longer. I think he felt it too, or at least he felt my worries, so he stayed up with me for as long as he could nearly every night. He was a saint with bringing me food and keeping my spirits up.

May was my last month at Wagner. I feel really far away from this month. I went to Waggies, but skipped the party to snuggle in bed with Leo and eat sushi. I went to Leo's house in Long Island to visit his family and pets for what would end up being the last time. I don't remember much from this visit other than some very cold skinny dipping. It's strange what you remember about the overwhelming parts of your life. (May also marked the first time I posed nude (well, mostly nude) for an artist, so it was a good month for being naked).

I left school early to move to Saratoga and start my work with the opera. It was bizarre to drive to a new house in a new state by myself and start working while everyone was getting drunk and living up the last week of school, but I got right into my work and ignored it. I drove back and graduated.

Strangely, I don't remember graduation as much as I remember the stressful drive the night before and finding all of my friends waiting for me with sushi when I finally made it. I think I was happy in May, but mostly I was very, very unsure.

Things started to get really tough in June. I went back to Saratoga filled with so much velocity and motivation. I was charged with creating a giant dragon puppet for The Magic Flute, along with a handful of other stylized props that were an incredible challenge for me. I was working with an amazing team, including a set designer who was willing to teach and mentor. It was also the first summer I wasn't exclusively surrounded by people who were older than me, which was nice but came with its own challenges.

I asked Leo to go on a break. I had started to feel like I wasn't growing or creating news goals and, at the time, I blamed that on my relationship with him. I had never had an issue with being independent with him at my side before, so I don't know why it made sense to either of us at the time. I spent the next three weeks missing him and filling my time with little adventures with my coworkers.

At the end of June, Rosie died. I should have seen it coming, but I was devastated. I poured every ounce of love I had into that little body and to bury her alone in a place that was not my home was shattering.

The good stuff: A hammock strapped to an i-beam in my "office", Sully the dragon, an extraordinary amount of time outdoors, a handful of friends my age, the fact that I worked inside a national park and could go swim under a waterfall whenever I got too stressed.

July was really, really difficult. Elizabeth (my wonderful boss and adventure partner) took us on an adventure involving caves and waterfalls and hiking that ended up being my favorite day of summer, despite involving an accident that left me on crutches. Kaaterskill Falls was breathtaking and I'm planning on returning there in the spring when I don't have to finish a downhill hike/rock scramble on a dislocated ankle.

Being on crutches for the rest of the season was humiliating for me. I prided myself on being able to keep up with the strongest people on our staff and to suddenly need people to help me open a door or unfold a table was horrifying. The injury also left me vulnerable to things I never thought I would have to deal with in a place that had been my safe haven for so long. When the season ended, I couldn't wait to leave Saratoga Springs. Instead of waiting for the morning after closing, I left at midnight on a whim and talked to Leo on the phone until he couldn't stay awake with me anymore. I collapsed into my bed in New Jersey at 4 am. Despite a newfound appreciation for each other and our relationship, I could tell that our time together was running out and I tried desperately to remember everything he was saying.

The next week, I visited Leo for the last time.  The week after that, we broke up. I can't say much about this other than I was so, so lucky to have nearly two years with such an incredible, life-altering, earth-shatteringly wonderful person. Losing my best friend and first love was devastating, but I realized that time was moving forward whether I wanted it to or not, so I pushed with it.

For me, August began the last week of July when I travelled to New York with Nicole for a Bitter End show. Nicole and I had held each other at an arm's length for a long time, so I'm happy and still a little shocked that we decided to go on an overnight trip the first time hanging out alone. August brought a lot of new people into my life, but I'm going to count my friendship with her as the one I'm most thankful for.

July also brought Alex into my life. My relationship with Alex had been a lot of quick encounters and minor collisions and near misses, but I never expected a post-breakup crush to turn into such a wonderful friendship. He let me ease into things with the understanding that I still had two years with another person that I was trying to shed off and was just so wonderful and patient. Also, I've never met someone who gets so excited about making pancakes for other people.

Anyways, August was good. I spent a month shooting my very first fabrication series with the help of Alex and all of my Jersey friends. The series was later wiped off my hard drive and still isn't completed, but it was an invaluable time for me and my work. I also went on weekly picnics and hikes with a handful of my favorite people and spent a lot of time shooting.

September was a good one. I decided to get a job at home as a golf club waitress for a few months and dig into some of my college loans. I would spend my off days jumping off of bridges, drinking maple bourbon on the beach with my friends, or swimming in the ocean for as long as I could stand the cold. The whole month felt like one long exhale.

I documented my summer with my friends and turned it into a montage. The finished product can be found here. (I'm actually pretty proud of this one.)

I started October by flying down to Florida with my family and a gaggle of cousins to attend and photograph my cousin Brandon's wedding to his wonderful wife Jess. I got to see Katie for the first time in a long while and felt a little bit of the weight of being home lift off of me. I also explored lots of abandoned houses with my number one ghost and went to the raddest Halloween party the face of the earth has ever known.

I'm happy but surprised to look back and remember that I took a self portrait in October. I don't know if it was the comfortable place I was in with photographing my friends or a lack of creative motivation, but I felt very far away from my art this fall (and, to be completely honest, this year). I like this little image very much, although I needed to give the photo manipulation a little more love.

November was a big ole mess, but I still loved it. I finally got Photoshop and immediately went to work creating little actions and presets. I went to tons of shows and worked a lot and made a respectable amount of money. I took self-portraits and, even though a lot of them remain unedited, it was nice to feel like an item with my camera again.

Despite the good things, living home took its toll on me and my depression started dictating my life again. I started to realize how many friends I had lost, how many jobs I had applied to, and how much I missed Leo. Self portrait therapy was good, but I could tell how much comfort I needed and couldn't find.

December started with my very first nude self portraits. I decided to keep the fully nude ones to myself and a few close friends, but I'm still proud of what I chose to share. The entire experience was pretty incredible and taught me the value of editing work just for myself. I doubt the other photos will ever be viewed by a wider audience, but I love them and like that I have a private project. As an artist it's easy to feel like not sharing work devalues it in a way, but there's a strange magic in creating for yourself. (In the spirit of reflection, I did share a not-so-artfully cropped version of one of my favorites!)

(Also, before I shift into wrapping-it-up mode: my very best friend from college got engaged! The next few months are going to be spent helping Anna Kate design her art nouveau star-blanketed forest affair. I'm swelling up with secondhand happiness as I write this because I'm just so happy and hopeful and ready for her to have an endlessly wonderful life with the boy she loves.)

In a lot of ways, this month has been like every other month. Bar shows, wandering the beach and the orchards, abandoned building adventures, a handsome boyfriend. A beautiful life from the back of my camera. I'm feeling a little recycled lately, like I've been collecting memories and feelings and aches and tumbling them around until they're polished enough for reuse. I've been missing everyone, and I wonder if it's a genuine pain or just the entire weight of the things I've lost seeping through the easiest wound.

I'm used to eloquence. I'm used to crawling into the worst parts of me on all fours if only to explain what's there. But this year has been so heavy and so hard and I feel like the only way to make it to the next day is to hold it at an arm's length until it stops struggling into my path. Last kisses and haircuts and hometowns need to stay just out of my periphery if I ever want to have the life I want. I can't keep scalding myself from the inside out just to chip away at understanding and decorate my pain.

I think reflection has merit and that it's an important part of shifting into a new place, but sometimes the things you need to see for yourself one last time are just too close for comfort. I can't wait around for these things to get lighter. This year was wonderful and terrible and it's time to take as deep a breath as I can before I push on and through.

I don't know. That's how I'm going into 2015. I don't know anything, and it's good. I want more for myself than what I know.

[elise-by-year]

Blistered, new, and beautiful all over; 2013 in pictures.

2013 started off really strong. I began my 365 with the help of my partner, Leo. Running around in the woods and fields and setting up halogen tabletop lighting became the norm for us and it brought us a lot closer. I began to realize how deeply devoted we were to each other, which is a strange and overwhelming thing. Anyways, it was a good time to be in love and making art.

February was really, really good despite a handful of minor disasters. The bad: mono, bullying, a week of camera mishaps, realizing my best friends were graduating soon. The good: Leo continuing to help with my 365, my discovery of (and obsession with) levitations, and attempting to edit. So many of these photos look silly to me now, but I was so proud of them at the time. Also, the best thing: I was cast in The Vagina Monologues! I tried out on a whim and got the new monologue that was used to end the show. It was such an empowering experience. I designed end made the set, got to chill with an awesome group of girls, and make a hundred people cry every night. If I could do that, I could deal with being disliked.

L.A. Birdie Photography

Alexis Mire

March was a difficult month. Rosie nearly died, my relationship nearly died. It was a long, slow recovery for both. I realized what other artists meant by self-portrait therapy; my art really did become therapeutic in a way. I look at some pictures from the end of the month and realized I needed all the comfort I could get.

March also brought me the best gift of the year: the March NYC meet up. I got to meet Lexi, Lissy, Natalie, and so many other people I had looked up to for so long. In addition to meeting so many people I had grown to know through their work, I met a great group of friends that I'm really, really lucky to have. The internet is overwhelming and suffocating at times, but I owe a great debt of my happiness to the people and arts I have met through it.

April was another hard month, but I inched through it and so did Leo. My art began to look like something that distinctly belonged to me, which pleased me a lot. Leo and I started making art together again, which was one strong thread for us to build on. I began to spend a lot of time in the theater. I'm still not sure if I did it because I wanted to be there or if I didn't want to be in my room, but regardless, I was there every night and began my Backstage series. I began to see the kind of work I wanted to be doing. It was also my last show with my incredible group of friends, who were nothing but encouraging and patient with me and my presence in such an intimate environment.

I started coping with the fact that there is no overcoming depression, and that it would my companion for life. I decided to walk hand-in-hand with it instead of spending the rest of my life blindly grasping for “happiness” and looking over my shoulder. I was there for the good and the bad. 

May: I went to Waggies. I said good-bye to my friends. I extended a tiny peace offering and it was accepted. I met some up with some of my flickr friends, which began a series of meet ups throughout the rest of the year that are becoming happy, familiar, and regular. I quit my 365 when I signed a contract to work 12 hour days in the different state. I sold my camera. June was a month of goodbyes and new starts, and I was okay with that. It was time for a clean slate.

June and July! Saratoga was one of the best experiences of my young life. I worked 12 hours a day, 6 days a week. I got strong and confident and my immune system finally caught up to me. I spent my days exploring abandoned baths, the attic laboratories, and underground bunkers. I got to listen to live opera 24/7 and build all day. I had bad bosses, amazing friends, and Elizabeth, who I spent 24 hours a day with. I learned to rock climb, pop a bottlecap with a countertop, and navigate a boulevard turn. I felt good, and worth it, and my sadness and sickness from the year melted away from me.

As I said, I sold my camera, so these are the only pictures of Saratoga. I kind of like it that way.

Robbie also had his spinal surgery, which went well. It was a major source of anxiety for the entire family, so I'm just going to focus on the good: It sucked, but he's better and alive.

And then it was August! I spent most of my time home visiting Leo, having photo meet ups, and finally using my Canon 7D! After going two months without a camera, I was starved for it and was ready to create. August was great, until it wasn't.

Justin killed himself on August 27th, 2013. I know this part is for September, but everything but the last few days of August were so good, so I think I'd like to group the good with the good and the bad with the bad.

It still seems strange to say. I don't have a lot to say about it, but what I will say is that a person's presence in your life can be measured by how big the hole in your heart feels after they leave. It's nearly January and my chest still feels gaping, yawning, open.

I can say that Leo was amazing. I cried myself to sleep every night, had panic attacks, yelled. It was the ugliest time of my life and he loved me every second of it. He's never dealt with death before and didn't know exactly how to help me, but he did his best and his best was everything I needed. We went on a lot of little vacations to his house, which is right next to the sea. We spent afternoons just floating on our backs in the cove. I'm thankful for these little trips and him and feel really, really lucky every time I think about September. Sad, but lucky. Lucky to have known Justin and lucky to have everything I have.

October was a little better. I started my Backstage project again, we took senior theater pictures. Leo and I did Halloween right. I started taking photos again, little by little. I sculpted a lot. I designed and opened a show, which was my proudest accomplishment of college.

Living in my room became (and continues to be) very difficult. It doesn't feel like a home to me anymore. It feels hostile, temporary, negative. This is something I'm trying to get over.

November was hard, but good. I spent most of my time with my camera and at Romeo and Juliet. R&J was much more difficult to work on than any other show, as it was very deeply connected with Justin. He was cast as Benvolio the previous spring, so it was a really difficult process for everyone to get through. My Backstage project became very therapeutic. I don't know how great the pictures came out, but I have photos that show laughter and progress.

December feels like a welcome relief. It's time to mend. I'm so ready to leave 2013 behind. It's not the year, necessarily; every year has it's ups and downs. But the past 365 days have been wonderful and exhausting and bitter and sad and I'm ready for a clean slate. New skin. I'm tired of laboring through each day, and something about a new year makes that feel like it's behind me. I need this new year without any mistakes or stains in it yet. I want to make more art, be happy with my wonderful boyfriend, and ring in the year with some of my best pals.

[I could write more about how this year is already filling me with worries, but this doesn't feel like the place. New year's is for promises of new things, but there's no guarantee whether those things will be good or bad.]

This year began as a spark and swelled into a flame and got extinguished so suddenly, so violently. I'm an ember. I'm seared, skinned, smoldering and charred. But that's alright because scar tissue is a gift sometimes. I'm blistered and new and beautiful all over. I'm going to keep going and that's all that matters. Nothing is worth more than this year, and the next, and the next. I'm okay.

[elise-by-year]

Fix, Mend, Repair: 2012 in photos.

January was so promising. After a breaking point at school, I was thrust into this new life. I was learning how to be strong on my own and be in tune with myself. This was an amazing time for art; I was carrying my cameras with me everywhere and making mundane things beautiful. I started taking a photography class at school, which was not the best thing, but I still had a lot of hope for it. At this point, I was strong but bitter. I didn't have any high hopes for this year and really wished I could study abroad, not so much for the experience, but to run away. I was also hopelessly in love with someone who would never love me, but that had been the running theme of my young life.

February was nice, but in retrospect, I spent most of my time alone. I went to museums alone, I ate dinners alone, I watched the Oscars alone. I was learning to live with someone who wouldn't even look at me. I took a lot of self-portraits, but I never gave them any love with editing or cropping or even liking them. I would get excited over the initial product, but get pathetically self-conscious about it later. I didn't make anything worthwhile, but I still wish I could have been more confident with my growth. I lost a really important roll of film I had been working on since Christmas and kind of lost my mojo from there.  I don't know if I was necessarily lonely during this time, but I was definitely searching for something.

March was incredible. My whole life turned around in a big way. I started spending time with the three people who would come to be my closest friends in college and stayed away from my toxic room as much as possible. I let myself be pulled into a group that loved and accepted me. I was never alone when I didn't want to be. I started getting paid for photography as well, so I stopped doing the personal work I got so down on myself for. At the time it felt right, but now I wish I had kept doing my little portraits and things. 

At the same time: I was sad, and I realized I had never been good at planning for the future because I didn’t think I had one. I wondered if I would die before I graduated. Even when things were good, incredible, happy, there was this reality swimming just under my skin.

I stopped in the hall just outside my advisor’s office and heard him calling me a living disaster to two of my classmates. I felt like it. 

April only got better. I realized I had a group of friends who weren't as camera-shy as I thought they were, and they got used to me bringing my cameras around. I started my self-portraits again (with better results). Because of my lack of photoshop, I taught myself more about my camera and how to get good colorization and quality without editing. I watched two of my closest friends inch, crawl, and fight for falling in love, which sort of ignited a spark in me.

My last day of school was weird and embarrassing. I cried a lot for no reason, I hugged my roommate goodbye. My department head asked me why I couldn’t get my life together and I wanted to dive across his desk and slap him. 

June took a turn for the worse. I left school and felt really lonely. I didn't want it to consume me, so I started going back to the Basie to paint a show. Katie graduated, Mae came home, and things started to get a lot easier. I started to inch into a new group of friends at home and started doing a lot of silly stuff on a whim. I was taking an unbearable summer class, but my afternoon alone time on Mondays and Wednesday gave back a little freedom that I had lost after coming back from college. But still; I was sad, and it was getting more difficult to ignore. I felt like the upcoming year at school would be my last, and that my lack of future was inevitable.  

I have a sad lack of pictures to show for July. This month was a string of parties, midnight confessions, and pursuing childhood crushes. I went on two dates with someone I realized I had no interest in (and learned that I could never love someone who was bitter). I realized that you could outgrow the cool older guy. I went on a road trip to visit some family friends, went to a wedding, and went to work. I spent a lot of time with my hoodrat friends. These are two pictures of our friend's amazing house in Indiana. Mr. Sweda died this fall and it makes me a little sad to look at these.

August was sand and anticipation and the breaking point of my sadness. I was scared to go to school and have a new roommate and have my friends be a building away and live with three strangers. I went to a therapist, she hugged me and told me that she would help me get my life back. I kissed a boy who didn't care about me at all and went through the motions for an afternoon, and I left feeling empty and cheap and finally realized that I wanted to scrape myself together. I wanted more for myself.

September was just amazing. I met this Leo, and he was different and exciting and comfortable. We fell in love. I had a new roommate, and my space became a home. I took less pictures. I was still happy. I wasn't sad anymore and even though I knew it was chemical, I knew I was making positive changes in my life. It's really difficult to write about September because it still seems so unbelievable how quickly everything changed for the better.

October. I fell deeply, madly, irreversibly into love. I directed A Very Potter Musical with one of my close friends. I was Suzy Bishop for Halloween. I designed a janky but endearing Rocky Horror Picture Show set. Hurricane Sandy ripped apart all the towns I've called home.

Finally seeking help for depression gave me a life and a future, and the whole thing self wide-open and scary. I suddenly had space to fill and plans to make.

November. Cleaning up Sandy, more love. Less pictures, but I was okay with it. I got a pet rat named Rosie and fell in love with her. Leo met my friends, saw my home. These captions are getting shorter and shorter because these months were so happy and writing about them seems cheap.

December has been so good to me. I took some personal portraits, plus two rolls of film I haven't developed yet. I went back to some promising images I took last year and edited them (I taught myself curves this month and my mind has been blown). I went to Leo's home, met his family (plus has cats and dogs) and have loved him more every day. He's coming in four days and I could not be more excited. I'm starting a 365 portrait project and am really starting to inch back into my art.

I hope everyone has a wonderful New Year's Eve and an incredible 365 days ahead of them!

[elise-by-year]

Striving; 2011 in photos.

I planned on looking back on this year through bullet points and events, but, you know. Moments count infinitely more than events. I picked up a camera a year ago and have been living my life by moments ever since. This is my year, moment by moment. These are the things that were important to me.

January. I picked up my first camera, Maude. She's a Konica Autoreflex TC and this is the first picture I ever took with her. This place and this person are both one of my favorites; if I remember correctly, this was the night Frank told me he was running away to Florida for a while. This was important because I started to look at where I was and what I needed to do for my happiness. I saw the Decemberists and my heart started to warm up, just a little.

February. When I got the first two rolls of film developed, something changed in me. I started to carry my camera around with me and started to love every picture for what it was. I liked unfocused and underexposed. I let my heart unfurl as much as I could before it got snapped shut again. The boy left me. Frank left for Florida. My best friend and I started to see the cracks in our foundations.

March to April. These months were blurry and I shut myself in a lot. I took my first set design class and felt somewhat steady about my choices. I started to get nightly fevers. I worked a lot and cried whenever I wasn't. Starting in March, I pulled one all-nighter per week. I didn't eat enough. I didn't celebrate my birthday.

April into May. Looking back at my 2011 bullet points and photos, I didn't have a single thing for this time. I lost weight. My hair thinned. I spent most of my time sleeping or working. I missed a lot of dinners because I would pass out after work. Two days before Easter, I woke up from a fever and couldn't get out of bed. I couldn't move my back. This scared me senseless and my dad had to pick me up. It turns out I had a horrible case of mono; I missed the last three weeks of school and didn't really recover until earlier this semester. I look at this picture and wonder how I didn't see anything wrong.

June. After weeks of beds and blood and fevers, I got up and started taking care of myself. I drove around. I went to the farmer's market and bought different fruits every day. I learned how to be alone, finally, and I made some life choices. I started a dream journal and recorded everything. I began work as the head scenic charge on Hairspray. I passed my lifeguard test and returned to work at my summer gig. I reconnected with old friends. I spent a lot of time in the water, so I opted for disposable cameras instead of risking Maude's safety.

July. I bought myself a ukulele and taught myself how to play. I didn't wear shoes. I spent nine hours a day in the sun and got stronger. I saw Weezer and The Flaming Lips share the stage at PNC. The picture of Wayne Coyne punching a guy in a bear suit didn't develop, but I assure you, it happened. I sent and received a lot of mail. I spent a lot of time painting Hairspray and was happy to roll into bed every night covered in paint and glitter and sand. I had a little bit of a crush on a childhood friend and it was nice.

August was big. I started carrying Maude around and really making big plans for photography. I set aside some money all summer to buy myself a Canon Rebel XSi. I named him Harold. I spent a lot of time in the orchards stealing peaches and running after trains. I climbed dolosse piles and climbed marina towers. I jumped off bay bridges and got stung by jellyfish.

I went to St. Thomas with my family and had some of the most breath-taking experiences there. We swam really far out one morning and found dozens of sea turtles. I think it was the best moment of my life- it was everything nineteen years of Discovery Channel had promised me. We saw barracudas and jellyfish the size of my head and stingrays and squid. Everything about that day was perfect.

At the end of august, Frank came home. I returned home to find Harold waiting for me, so we went to the spot by the lake and I stretched my legs and started to teach myself digital. [I'm only just realizing that Frank's goofy face has christened both Harold & Maude. I'm laughing about it because they're the only two serious pictures I've ever taken of him. Also, everything is silly. Anyways.] I gave Frank Maude for the night, and watching someone discover photography was so beautiful. I took so many pictures of him taking pictures.

It was nice to have him home. We both changed, but it was nice to see that change doesn't change everything, if that make sense.

September. I went back to school and moved into a beautiful old building. I started going to the gym every day and balancing my diet and making good life choices. I got stronger. I started to work at Snug Harbor. I didn't have much time for photography, but I carried my camera everywhere to learn. My friends tried to get used to having a few cameras around. Any beautiful moments were found by accident. Maude's film started coming back blank, which broke my heart, but was almost a blessing in a way. My best friend was in love. I was doing well in scenic painting. September was kind to everyone.

October. I saw Elvis Costello, I sort of saw Iron & Wine. I tried falling out of love, which took too much. I took pictures of beds. I started missing home a lot. I took my first show pictures for Rocky Horror, which was sort of an accident because I was drunk and photo-happy. But people liked them and I started getting work. I was the white swan and black swan with my best friend for a Halloween party, but I had to work for Halloween. Please find above a picture of my friend Anthony being me for Halloween. It was hilariously accurate.

After fixing little thing after little thing, I shot a test roll with Maude and it developed. I actually cried at the Walgreens photo counter. I lost an important roll of film, so I cried at the same counter again one week later.

November. I designed Lysistrata, my first college set. I went to see Blind Pilot (it was without a doubt the best concert I have ever seen). It was Frank’s first time on a boat and we found a weird, multi-layered pizza place that spat us out into a different part of the city than we started in. We accidentally walked into the Gotham set at 1 in the morning. I was asked to take show pictures. 

Then things started to get hard. I was the head scenic artist for My Fair Lady and really began to question myself as an artist. I became really shy about photography. I didn't feel growth in any of the arts that I loved. I looked back on the past year and realized that I was in a bad place and hadn't grown in a while. At the end of the month, I had to fight for my show to be finished. My friend started to tell me little lies and I resented her for it. Katie visited and I ached for home. I wondered if I would have been better off dropping out and pursuing medicine. 

December was the breaking point of the year. A close friend completely broke my heart. Without getting into it, I know that things can't return to the way they were. I started battling with a lot of things. I made a list of the things that were hurting me and started to cut them out of my life. I signed up for a photography course. I devoted a moleskine to inspiration. I cut my bangs. I made a huge decision. I went home.

Home has been beyond wonderful for me. I've returned to where I started- I've shot almost nothing but film. I can't wait to develop it all. I've decided to spend the next fall semester in London. I fell back in love with you, and everything. For the next two weeks, I'm going to try to take pictures every day. I am determined to make next semester different.

I'm still angry, but I don't regret the things that happened to me. I have been defiant in fighting for my happiness ever since. I feel a little silly, making journals and getting a haircut and cutting things out of my life like a rom-com character or Thought Catalog article, but here I am, happier for it.