04. buzzed


buzzed and bumbled. this vacant parking garage. like sneaking popcorn in a theatre, my feet find section c3. no jangling car keys on this girl. sidewalk stepping, uber conversing, and throwing my converse in the wash. i smile at princess backpacked girls on the metro. i chat with the skateboard crew hitting rails on the block. i navigate buildings and strengthen my memory. on my way to a vegan burger and late night showing of “20th Century Women.” in the meantime just a beaded cocktail dress filling the silent cement.


mute style

01. new year. same me.


hello 2017,

your mailbox must by full. don’t worry. this is not a new year’s resolution. a statement of what i hope to improve upon. an amount or measurement of time, money, or weight. this is just me. the same me, ready for hikes of self exploration. additional decisions. imaginative growth. and much more content. (i hope to have daily videos this week!) just me. swaying to some 45 degree breeze and that famous tourist gaze. all witnessing a girl posing in public flower beds. also sneezing after twenty minutes in a park and suddenly wondering if maybe possibly she is allergic to said plants. *false alarm* just me. sitting in the leaves with this vintage jumpsuit and loafers from the frequented goodwill. not much has changed. and to the calendar replaced with an updated arrangement of numbers… it’s nice to meet you.


mute style

To You

to you,

three months a swooping return. three months of winging shadowed thoughts. three months of over washing my softness. this is psychology of a bird nest. the grasses of fiction entwined with yearning. rest. this tender spot. the hue of nervousness. the bitter remembrance of empty places that exist. Continue reading