Navigating avoidant tendencies in a self-optimized society.
Someone I love dearly informs me that he hates when people see something that needs fixing and do nothing to fix it. I sit back tight lipped, my hands gripping the steering wheel tight, and nod my head in quick and false agreement. Though he is trying to make a universal statement about human nature, and this is in no way a pointed passive-aggressive hint, I know that my complacency is the source of his current discontent. I know this because he is riding in the passenger seat of my car, and the…
And it’s making all my roommates uncomfortable.
Recently, I’ve come to the realization that working from home in a baggy t-shirt down to my knees isn’t cutting it anymore, no matter how creatively I accessorize. In a moment of desperation, I tried to pair an XL long sleeve with a pair of green kitten heels, and I could tell my roommates were ready to sit me down for an intervention. Their frightened faces were my wakeup call.
While I’m still not ready to try pants again, I went on a mission to find something in my closet that achieved the…
We’re still submerged deep in the depths of coronaville, and I am losing what little braincells I once had.
It’s times like these when I need to decompress and fixate my eyeballs on something that will transport me out of both mind and body. Something to help me momentarily forget the woes of these times, and ideally, forget I exist at all!
From the trailer alone I had a good feeling that Work It would be the perfect movie to disassociate to.
If you haven’t heard of Kelly Stamps — the tiramisu-eating, iceskating, perpetually unbothered YouTuber — well, now you have. You’re welcome.
Stamps, while only 25, has been a professor at her very own Stampede University for over 40 years. Isn’t that incredible? When she isn’t steeped in academia, she’s running from paparazzi, jet-setting around the world, and pushing off another lunch date with her good friend, Beyoncé (*cue Kim Possible theme song*).
Jokes aside, Kelly Stamps is delightfully deadpan, delivering crazy schemes and effortlessly donning an array of different personas in an instant. Her editing skills and comedic timing…
I’m going too fast.
It’s month 5 going on 5 million of life during COVID-19.
In the beginning of this unprecented time, I too, had goals. I bought an electric guitar and dreamed of starting a folk-punk band. I dusted off my typewriter in hopes of writing a bestselling novel. I bought a scuba mask, planning to practice free-diving in the local spring.
Now all these objects haunt my room, collecting dust, serving as talismans of wasted potential. I am deep in the depths of a creative slump, and have found writing or expressing much of anything to be a…
We’re going on month 5 of quarantine. My jeans are covered with a thick layer of dust, suffocating at the back of my dresser.
Here in the states, it’s been years since sweatpants were ushered into the hallowed halls of acceptable streetwear. Even during this pandemic I have yet to succumb to the cozy trenches of sweatpants, largely due to personal side affects that my friends affectionally call “diaper butt” (very unflattering, surprisingly un-stinky). But, I’m admittedly a big sucker for its beautiful, hippie cousin, the yoga pant.
The fast-fashion minions couldn’t just keep it simple and stop there. Now…
Before he became a Pulitzer Prize-winning poet and held the title of National Poet Laureate for the United States (1995–1997), Robert Hass was a California native, dreaming of emulating the energy of the beat poets and finding inspiration in the wildness of his home state.
His first published work Field Guides displays Hass’ keen eye for the sublime beauty of the West Coast while showcasing his ecstatic ability to elevate even a grocery list to the profound.
Ignites the sprawling poem “Maps,” so much of which is edible. …
I live with a lovely dog (whose name I will omit for privacy reasons). He’s a Mini Australian Shepard approaching middle age, and has these blue eyes that give him an eerily intelligent presence. Despite his doggy IBS and his habit for staring blankly into empty rooms in a way that makes you question if you should call your priest, he’s great. Super cute. But he’s been hijacked by foreign invaders of the parasite kind.
Weeks ago when quarantine was heating up, I noticed the dog, let’s call him Oreo, was scratching a lot. I asked Oreo’s caretaker if he…
Teachings and encouragement from A Poetry Handbook
Aside from being a Pulitzer Prize winning poet, Mary Oliver was also a dedicated educator, and held Catharine Osgood Foster Chair for Distinguished Teaching at Bennington College until 2001.
Just as Oliver’s poetry is mystical, revelatory, and encourages one to look closer at the world waiting just underfoot, so too is her slim manual A Poetry Handbook.
Will the book undoubtedly make you a great poet after reading? No. Nothing on this green Earth is so simple. But Mary Oliver demystifies what is difficult about poetry- rhyme, meter, structure, etc., …
Writer in process. Cowgirl at heart. Currently based in Austin, TX.