Sara& the semester off

I've taken the semester off, and although the first few weeks I resembled a weepy pig rolling around in the mud and complaining about basically everything, I am so very glad I did. I had time to work on projects. I had time to realize that academia isn't the only place I can excel. I realized that I am actually quite productive creatively.

Whether it's a rainy Sunday afternoon that I decide to paint the insides of my cabinets gold, or a much larger undertaking, when I set my little mind to a creative project, I see it through. In my time off I began costuming a new play, worked a lot on this blog, spent a lot more time on my poetry, wrote a play, and applied to a different school much closer to where I live and work.

Cutting the buds off flowers.

Most recently, my good friend Ms. T and I have been discussing a new blog idea. We're both fascinated by the first few hours of a relationship, and what progresses that along into something lasting, and have been discussing how fun it would be to interview couples and find the commonalities. We want to see if there are connections, how much of this is random. Mostly, I guess, for me, I am looking for guidance. I didn't grow up around strong healthy relationships, and I have always been intimidated by them. This is my way of confronting them, of learning about them in my own way, and maybe of finding a way to create my own.

Twingers.

We've had an extremely positive response to the idea (even the guy at the flower shop gave us extra flowers to help design our logo when we told him about it -- thanks, guy!) and yesterday marked the end of the conceptual process and the beginning of the "doing stuff" process.

Elyse and I after she pulled a splinter out of my finger.

We bought some flowers, borrowed a couple we will be interviewing, and headed to Zilker Park to shoot images for the site. I designed the aesthetic concept for the blog, so yesterday was about making that into a reality, and it was so much fun! Everything went exactly as I had hoped. The lighting was perfect, and the flowers I was arranging cooperated a lot better than I thought they would.

Header photo for Elyse & Jeffrey's set.

I'm really pleased with how these photos turned out, and am anxious to share the new project with everyone. I think it's going to be an extremely interesting endeavor and I am excited to work on a project that gives as much as it takes. Sure, I'll be quizzing the couples about their relationship with one another, but I'm providing them with a little piece of themselves as a couple. I hope it's as fun for the couples as it will be for Tiffany and I.

Styling some flowers.

Having the free time to work on my own projects and remain creative has reinforced my desire to finish my double degree in poetry and graphic design. I'm so excited to be able to work creatively in all aspects of my life and be working towards a job that allows me the time outside of work to pursue my creativity across the spectrum. I'm so thankful to live in a city that embraces and inspires, and people who are so open and willing to be a part of something outside of themselves.

Yesterday I had a conversation with a friend about people who are content living a life they don't want. I'm glad I have higher hopes, and I am so thankful to every single person who has stood beside me encouragingly on this long journey of allowing myself to believe in and pursue my creativity.

Sara& the Yucatan Islands

I grew up in a corn field in Virginia. 

That is only a slight exaggeration.

I lived in a small town from the time I was born until just after my 23rd birthday, when I moved to Austin, TX and discovered food that isn’t butter, cocktails that are not neon green (oh French 75, you beautifully seductive mistress), job opportunities outside of the service industry, and good coffee.

Diving head first into the unknown made me hungry for more of the same. And so, two years later, when a guy I was dating asked me to meet him in Mexico, I packed my (poorly planned) bag, strapped on my (absurd) wedged heels, put on my (not wind-proof) floppy hat and boarded a plane to Isla Holbox.

View from the water

Once on the island I was overcome. This was one of the most emotional trips of my life. Between the beautiful beach, the amazing tortillaria we found downtown, my first romantic getaway, and swimming with whale sharks, I thought I might burst with excitement.

The things I remember are peculiar to me. For instance, I logically remember my time in the water with the sharks in surprising detail, but I also remember every single shower -- and there were many -- in our little hut (the shampoo I brought with me is a huge memory trigger). I remember sitting inside the mosquito net over the bed sharing an apple, laying on the beach reading Karen Russell, acquiring alcohol to take to the beach at night and listening to music with my phone and experiencing the feeling you get when you know a moment is going to stick with you forever. I hardly remember the fight in the restaurant, could not tell you the book he was reading, remember that he spoke to a black cat at breakfast, but not what we were eating.

Isla Mujeres after the rain

And then last summer, I was ready to go back. I wanted to backpack the Yucatan Peninsula alone. I wanted to be an adventurer, stay in hostels, plan my trip as I went along. Eventually, I was convinced (by my lovely caring friends) that this was probably not a great idea, and so, two of my close friends, Ms. T and the Weesel (and her current romantic interest) decided to go with me for a week to one location. Shortly after, we rented a house, bought our tickets, and packed our bags for Isla Mujeres.

Ms. T and The Weesel ordering ice cream

Ms. T and I quickly set to exploring the island top to bottom. We woke up every morning, stumbled into clothes, went to the beach, and spent scarcely any time in the house. Alternating between silent moments of contentment and long involved discussions, we willingly charged ourselves into exhaustion by bedtime.

The Weesel and her boy, who are both hard-working, career-driver developers (understandably) opted to lay around the house reading and relaxing, but Ms. T and I were out at the local hostel every night drinking 2-for-1 rum and cokes talking to people from all over the world. We swam in the ocean in our clothes, drenching the backseats of taxi's, smiling at one another and too exhausted to speak as we rode home.

Ms. T

My two trips to islands right next to one another could not have been more different, but each showed me a side of myself, and a piece of the world I had never experienced before.

Holbox, a fight and make up whirlwind, showed me the difference between passion and love, and how dangerous it is to let the former lead you into the latter. And Isla Mujeres, an adventure-packed solidification of my closeness with Ms. T; opening a level of communication I’ve never before experienced with a best friend, was the opening chapter in accepting my own self worth.

Sundown at the southernmost point of Mujeres

So much of travel is determined by who you’re with. You step outside of the familiar and are faced with just yourself and this person you have opted to walk alongside. I think that’s why I was so determined to explore every inch of the island with T -- even the turtle sanctuary, which was not exactly thrilling -- I wanted to make sure that I was fun, adventurous, that I was capable of creating a good time. In that regard, I certainly succeeded. 

It was the moments where I stopped, though, when I lay on a salt-gritted beach chair panting from the ocean, that I was able to see what was around me the clearest. When I was able to look at the world around me and think, “I am coming for you.”

Sara& the Music Festival

I have been to one music festival in my life, and since it was held in a parking lot I do not consider that a music festival at all. It was Warped Tour, and was the first time I really bonded with my dear friend, Hunter, but as I was with a horde of people and not what I would consider an “adult” I am calling that this does not count as a music festival. A parking lot full of weirdos seems like a more fitting title.

I’ve lived in the music capital since 2010, and have never been to a festival. By some twist of fate, my name got drawn in a contest at work and I ended up with a wristband for week two of

Austin City Limits. I smiled a lot, and maybe sang a weird song about my changing luck in my car, and then remembered that all of my friends went on the first weekend. I would have to sell my ticket.

But wait just a minute, the always-right-ever-annoying voice chimed. “Aren’t you an adventurer? An explorer? Don’t you want more than anything the wind in your tangled tresses, the sun singing freckles across your nose and shoulders? Don’t you whine endlessly about how you are not an adult and cannot handle simple tasks alone?” And so, forced into submission by my own self, I requested the weekend off work, and planned out my festival schedule.

The first day I lucked into a ride. Ms. T dropped me off a few blocks from the park and I sauntered my high waisted shorts right through the bag check, scanned my arm like a futuristic hippie, and entered.

And I had a complete blast.

I watched Thao and the Get Down Stay Down rock out so hard that Thao broke her mandolin (after which she shouted “welcome to folk rock motherf*****s), saw the sun set behind the lead singer of Vampire Weekends Babar jean jacket, danced with energetic strangers who offered me wine from a water bottle during Local Natives, sat on my blanket eating tacos while I listened to Jimmy Eat World replay moments from my early teenage years, let the rain soak through my clothes waiting for Purity Ring.

But the best part -- the absolute most amazing thing, is that I didn’t feel sad or lonely or wish for someone else even once. In fact, I almost felt bothered when someone watched Okkervil River next to me. I danced, and laughed, and smiled, and drank a LOT of water, and when I needed a break I just spread out my blanket and sat down, or lie watching the clouds pass by. It was my day, and I have to say, I couldn’t have found a better person to spend the day with than sweet, kind, considerate, taco-loving, little old me.

Bonus photo of Kelsey Wilson from Wild Child on stage with Shakey Graves Saturday:

How to screen print with a carrot.

I've been bored with my bedroom (bedroom?! what am I talking about - I live in a 400 square foot studio apartment) for a while now, but I finally justified to myself that it was worth my while to do something about it after a particularly sleepless week. I reasoned that if my bed looked cozy enough, I would want to climb beneath the covers each night, and wouldn't spend several hours of quality sleep time hunched over my desk marveling at the vastness of Pinterest.

So I browsed West Elm's website for a while to get ideas of what felt cozy to me. After filling my shopping cart with $200 worth of amazing bedding, I snapped back into the real world where I am a broke college student. "No matter," I thought. "I'll make my own bedding." And thus I headed to the art supply store.

This project is very simple, and more importantly, it is very cheap.

You will need:
- Screen printing ink
- Something to screen print (I used pillow cases I already had for the pillows, and for the hanging I went to the hardware store and purchased a drop cloth with finished edges for $11)
- A rolly thing -- I have no idea what this is called, but it is pictured, which should probably clear up any confusion.
- A large carrot

My bed isn't 100% up to my tastes yet, but it is such an improvement that my plan worked: I've not only been more eager to go to bed, I've been a lot more consistent with making the bed every day. What's better than crawling into a bed covered in cozy pillows and blankets? Climbing into a made bed with cozy pillows and blankets.

Happy sleeping, dreamers!

-Sara