treehousemeetings

[treehousemeetings]

as i flew on the plane home, i couldn't help but wonder if any time had passed since i was 15.

the urge to journal on the plane; the existential crisis that we sat among the clouds in the sky and yes chose to be silent, crammed, with windows shut and headphones on. How this was not a marvel, a celebration, was unfathomable to me. there is something dystopian about it; that is the EARTH that we fly above. we do not teleport, we do not need to sink into another reality while we return to where we once were. I think air travel is decidedly not a preference of mine. hopefully trains will be my mode of transportation next year in europe. and none of this is really new to me- i always adored the horse and his boy, for its grounded adventure. i am not fond of horses, but perhaps a bike can emulate this same feeling.

once onto the smaller plane, only 8 seats and truly a speck in the sky, i saw more how the time has passed since 15. my entanglement with cannon beginning, without the intention of it becoming so consuming. the enjoyable ways of everyday life; running and sitting with the goats and watching movies with cannon, reading and trying to touch all the facets of life i felt so necessary. but on top of that the bog of adolescence, that always hung in my mind as i desired the ability to choose for myself. so i leave cannon to live on the island for a summer, a summer of beautiful sunsets and lovely, reasonable work. after this comes the reckoning of college; grappling with all there is to do and yet the isolation i felt. a summer in west virginia, a year at mt holyoke, now here i am back at potsdam. since 15 i have filled my head with so much physics; and yet the project on the aztecs i did in 5th grade holds no less importance. there is so much to learn and equally to see. i believe you must read about the vestal maidens of rome while also creating new traditions in your own, present world.

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"But come, dear companions, For day is near." -Sappho

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how much abundance lies ahead of me

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But remembering don’t come to a man face forward — it corners around sideways.

"A Tree, A Rock, A Cloud" by Carson McCullers

Reminds me of conversations with jessica, discussing seeing beauty in everyone, which in turn allows beauty to be see in the self; the world smiling back also connects to these themes in a way.

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"Some of what you loved most about your partner was actually your own goodness reflected back to you; it's yours to keep and carry forward." -Lily Jay

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just like my older sister did with blank space back in 2014, i listen to my repeat finals song

junior year:: wasted by RKS

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i only want to write if it is how i feel; not imitating a superfluous lens of the world, not other writers voices applied to my meager thoughts.

but what is it i feel? i used to feel so much. sunlight on my face used to be cause for contemplation.

[treehousemeetings]

the world smiling back

[treehousemeetings]

it is so interesting to see me posting about slow living over a year ago, when it is something i still value so deeply and feel like i have gained such a better sense of what it means to me.

i wrote those things before i had even delved deeper into carson mccullers work, before i had found alice munro.

i cannot say that i am closer to living that way; i may have slowed down too much, or rather just lost a grip on the living part in general. but to even just understand myself, my life, just a little bit more is freeing, irregardless if i'm using that understanding to influence my decsions yet.

[treehousemeetings]

“From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them, and that is eternity.” ― Edvard Munch

[treehousemeetings]

an extension on this ever persisting topic:

losing my newly designed tin of jewelry somewhere between Texas and California, i have once again faced the nagging of a lost object, sentimental and sweet.

[treehousemeetings]

ummm this thing on?

why do we love the people we love. i can't figure it out. i talked to cannon and joey back to back, side by side, yesterday and today, and its incomparable. its apples to oranges. obviously i love cannon best. but i think it is officially time to move on. officially. it is over.

[treehousemeetings]

It is interesting how I see two boxes in everyday life. Work- that is academics, a job. Hobbies- or more known to me, extracurriculars. Athletics and art and everything in-between.

[treehousemeetings]

A note on clothing.

Because even when falling short in my academic diligence, stressing over the balance of new extracurricular opportunities, and contemplating slow living philosophies, clothing is ultimately always what I return to and what consumes my mind.

When I wear clothing I want it to be something that I would wear as a fairy goblin the forest. Or something that makes me feel like I am a character in Winnie the Pooh. A shirt that I would wear when I live in a van and wake up to mountains, or a dress I would wear to coffee shops and physics classes and poetry readings. Recently I have been diving into clothing that makes me feel like an astronomer, overtly space related and dreamy. Almost lofi personified. Then above all, what I have always loved, is wearing clothing that would be straight from a Mazzy Star concert. A flannel that goes everywhere with me along with my slept in braids. Undeniably grunge.

Maybe I'll refer to this post and slowly post outfit pictures that fall under each one of these categories. Although how more materialistic can I get.

[treehousemeetings]

I did not start watching movies, truly, until I met Paul. I think watching movies just seemed like a natural way to spend time together as a couple, and we both expressed the desire to.

Then I met- I don't even know his middle name.

I will never regret going back, because I know Paul's middle name.

Christopher?

Then I went to the mountains of California to meet someone who lived 200 feet from my college dorm room. The mullet man and I watch TV shows. What can be interpreted from this analogy? Longform classics with paul : sitcoms with MM. I think that the inference is there... no need to spell it out.

Why do we always watch TV shows anyway? I remember coming back to campus and day dreaming about being with him again, about late night drives to the beach for bonfires and star gazing. Oh how I romanticize others; oh how I romanticize who I am with them. Its like everyday I daydream about how our interaction will go, how much I'll have to say and offer to do, and then i never have the face to say it.

I thought the other day how he makes me feel like myself. My spirit is drawn to the surface, almost like hes got a magnet inside his chest pulling at it. I thought how my spirit continues to linger at the surface afterwards, and in that way he positively touches my interactions with others. I thought how he reminds me what my natural laugh sounds like. but none of this was said; and it didnt feel like it should be.

[treehousemeetings]

sooo nomi leasure is my new role model. how she writes about her college years and the divine feminine; but most of all how she writes about love. i can't help but see the parallels, with my previous post of a one of pauls beats, and her post of an unreleased mac song.

if i don't start writing, what is it all for?