Kirsing...

Kirsing: (verb.): attempting to describe life in the most poetic way. | Native New Yorker living a life full of uncertainty, residing in Nashville, TN. | This is my modern-day storybook - North Roots, Southern Grounds.

[kirstenkirsing]

At one point, The World Trade Center towers, measuring at 110 stories side by side, were the tallest buildings. Within the walls, you’d find 104 floors. That’s 208 floors of occupancy btwn the two, located in the 3rd largest city in the world (at least that’s what I read). On September 11, 2001, a plane struck the northern tower between the “94th & 98th floors, causing massive structural damage and igniting some 3,000 of the 10,000 gallons of jet fuel the plane was carrying.” This was at 8:46am, some coffees still warm. Then a second plane hit the “84th floor to 78th floors of the South tower, at a faster speed,” at 9:03am. This is not a fiction story... Our New York City heroes, fire & police departments and other emergency services, carried bravery while charging toward the scene as everyone else fled away from it. Because of them, 25,000 people were saved. Lives were traded. You know this true story… The South tower collapsed to the ground at 9:59am… only “56 minutes after the hijacked plane was steered directly into it.” 56 MINUTES. In LESS THAN 1 HOUR a building of 104 floors, filled with people, fell to the ground. Its neighboring tower collapsed LESS THAN A HALF HOUR later. In 102 minutes the Manhattan skyline changed forever, as did the lives of those affected. Families will never be the same. The attacks killed 2,606 people within the vicinity of the buildings. And another 265 lives ended the day they boarded those planes. This was an unthinkable tragedy. This is a story to never forget. It took 8 MONTHS to clean up the site. People from all boroughs & nearby areas came together to lend hands, including my neighbors & my dad. The unity was something I remember so vividly; the synced unspoken obligations. The voices of the news anchors, the shock, the worry, the fear, tears, and the panic are all things I won’t forget marking the faces of New York. The sounds of the largest city in America mute. The bluest sky turn black. Fright. I could never forget. Do you remember? This IS our history. This was terrorism. I was 11. I’m a New Yorker, & I was there. I remember 9/11/01 like yesterday. We stood together stronger than buildings. (at New York, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bnm8sx5lomG/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=13v9mphomw062

[kirstenkirsing]

Chatted until 2am, upon landing my delayed flight, with my loveliest manhattan ladies... drunk off tea, good conversation, and appreciation 🙌🏼. The rest of the weekend was spent with much gratitude for my dad. A breakfast with a friend, I haven’t seen in two years, felt like only a couple weeks had gone by. I’m a tad emotional to head back this Sunday. I never thought I’d want to postpone a leave from the Staten... life is full of surprises. And time is weird; I’m still not sure how I feel about it. _ I am sure, though, that I’m not tired from the time stretched, but from the mountain of carbs I just climbed over to get here... typing from the airport questioning suitcase squats. (at Newark Liberty International Airport) https://www.instagram.com/p/BnhmeUrlXbI/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=3vqpvcdao8ue

[kirstenkirsing]

A night in Shinjuku - one of the 23 “wards” in Tokyo, Japan - March 1, 2018 🖤 _ Sometimes the months move too fast. And other times they are slow. Sometimes we have the answers. And other times we don’t. No one knows or has it all; this big world seems damn small after all... The Sherman Brothers sang about it back in 1963... I guess we can walk the earth, but have somewhere to be and go. (at Shinjuku)

[kirstenkirsing]

A year ago, I had an undeveloped, convoluted, and confusing perception of love and relationships. I didn’t believe in it’s miraculous influence to give you peace, movement, and freedom. Peace in presence, movement toward possibilities (for more adventures!), and freedom to truly be who you are and who you want to be. I never thought things could be this good. Sometimes, I still think that. _ Thanks for giving me many and no reasons to smile—all at the same time. Not sure there’s anything else a girl could ask for... well, maybe 0 caloric intake to all the ice cream. _ Signing off from a great weekend... Wondering if he knows how cute he is, as I type from the passenger seat ;) (at Chattanooga, Tennessee)

[kirstenkirsing]

In case anyone needed this as much I did this morning… I flash past this nearly every day. But today, I was happy to catch that traffic light and slow down, take the reflection in for more than the blurred cars beside me. I welcomed the words and wanted to reach out to drag them with me, on my way to work. I envisioned them on a banner behind my car, leading all those going a similar route - all those on the same road at the same time. I guess we’re doing “it” and it IS going to be OK. A reminder: you’re not the only one. We’re on this road together. Keep going, we got this. At least that’s what I think... hope? And not sure how much coffee the above idea would require, but I definitely haven’t had enough... Cue lazy instagram post instead. OK 😉 (at West Nashville, Tennessee)

[kirstenkirsing]

No, I’m not looking at Peanut Butter... This contented smirk is brought to you by: The TALENTED hairstylist, @harlowdoeshair, and the awe I have for her amazing work to keep me #blonde! 🙏🏻🙏🏻 and, boy, is it WERK. Also- The lighting here > My granny shirt. _ Now if you excuse me, my painted hair and I have some natural PB to pick up. (at 12th South)

[kirstenkirsing]

This isn’t my commute anymore, but my next post prompted this: We were little humans, hidden on streets overshadowed by tall buildings touching the sky. We swam through crowds crashing like waves, following stairs found in gaps in concrete, and dropped in and out of a whole world underground. We sprinted to trains, squeezed into subway cars, forcing closeness amongst strangers who didn’t expect polite speech -- as the doors threatened to squash us instead. I used to tell visitors: it’s not that we’re rude; we’ve just attended an unspoken sermon that deemed small talk larger than a New York minute. Sometimes eye contact was sufficient, it said more than words could try. Sometimes avoiding eye contact was the language of survival... _ These snapshots trigger memories that survive in my mind (1/2)... (at New York, New York)

[kirstenkirsing]

Goofy dancing to the theme of (not so) INSTAgramming: A #birthday #poem I typed up on my phone, with every intention to post, lost in my notes, digitally filed away by the day(s). However, life treated me with the presence of this foreva friend, visiting – She stood in my apartment kitchen, as I read: Back before Instagram (we’re so old we can say that now) we took pictures with pink colored cameras in college partied on weekdays, dressed in silly themed clothing.. walked the streets of a small town covered in snow. Trapped in a globe. And totally shaking things up. As our souls began to develop and unfold. 6 years later, we’ve left that cold dot above a New York map— Trading late night library sessions, books, and lets be real, beers for life lessons; the importance of sleep job stability but, most importantly, reoccurring meets. Weekend adventures on Manhattan streets to choosing passports to London and train seats to France-Pari... Typing from Nashville— Reading a calendar note that says “Courtney G visits!!” Reminds me of a time back before Instagram when we thought 28 was old. When we never thought we’d live this far apart. But here we are. I add-- In my Tennessee kitchen. You visitin’ Us dancin’. __ PS: I really wanted to include pics from our college days, but that would require me to dig through Facebook & I already feel like I’ve spent too much time trying to get these on here. Love you, Court! @cornyyg... Until next #adventure... dance choreographer always wanted 😉😂 __ PPS: do we still #flashbackfriday? To last Fridays? Signing off as the pastgram pro ;) (at Nashville, Tennessee)

[kirstenkirsing]

In a world of “fake news,” here’s more to the theme of truth and (not so) INSTAgramming: A #birthday #poem I typed up on my phone, with every intention to post, lost in my notes, digitally filed away by the day(s). However, life treated me with the presence of this foreva friend, visiting – She stood in my apartment kitchen, as I read: Back before Instagram (we’re so old we can say that now) we took pictures with pink colored cameras in college partied on weekdays, dressed in silly themed clothing.. walked the streets of a small town covered in snow. Trapped in a globe. And totally shaking things up. As our souls began to develop and unfold. 6 years later, we’ve left that cold dot above a New York map— Trading late night library sessions, books, and lets be real, beers for life lessons; the importance of sleep job stability but, most importantly, reoccurring meets. Weekend adventures on Manhattan streets to choosing passports to London and train seats to France-Pari... Typing from Nashville— Reading a calendar note that says “Courtney G visits!!” Reminds me of a time back before Instagram when we thought 28 was old. When we never thought we’d live this far apart. But here we are. I add-- In my apartment kitchen. You visitin’ __ PS: I really wanted to include pics from our college days, but that would require me to dig through Facebook & I already feel like I’ve spent too much time trying to get these on here. Love you, Court! @cornyyg... Until next time. __ PPS: do we still #flashbackfriday? Signing off as the pastgram pro ;)

[kirstenkirsing]

Hey media-world: you’re confusing and I still don’t understand you, so I am posting late and breaking all the fake rules related to this digitally represented “life.” And believe me, my #dad is worth every rebellion. Because without him, I would have lost many battles, given up on catching any curve ball, and thought most things were impossible. I am truly lucky to call this man my dad. He's given me strength and compassion. No post could ever depict how meaningful a dad is to any daughter, and specifically my dad to me. No matter when it’s posted or how it’s said. I guess one could say, this was “supposed” to be “up” on #fathersday, but I called him then & sent him these words instead. This is delayed, simply because this is ‘social media’ & it could never properly denote the appreciation I have for the man that raised me... • And as another fellow daughter, raised to be my dear friend, PIC, @kaitlyn_ann_clifford, so succinctly summed up the fortune of great fathers (in a tad timelier manner): “Can’t believe you’re still willing to answer {our} calls 😂 ...not sure how we would ever truly survive without you!” I’m not religious, but AMEN. • #Notes from #Nashville #betterlatethannever #dadsareawesome #stayingrelevant (at Staten Island, New York)

[kirstenkirsing]

Post #Hike: My camera roll told me these branches were getting all bent out of shape, scrambling themselves up, forming letters, and spelling out “SHARE!” Naturally— (at Percy Warner Park)

[kirstenkirsing]

Sometimes I struggle to find the right caption that I presume many don’t even care to read. But it’s more for me, and those that might, then for the “others” - my FEW followers - IF I was to compare this account to almost anyone else… But “comparison is the thief of joy...” So here’s the thing: I think every photo has a story. Because all THIS picture displays are two beautiful ladies, to the right of me, on the outside. But no matter what type of camera used, even if held by a photographer (that unquestionably knows what he's doing), the lens needs an X ray beam to uncover their big hearts. _ A friend that’s been good to me; she’s a listening ear that seeks understanding. She’s thrown me a life jacket, when I felt I was drowning – in fact she’s given me a key to her rescue supply closet, when I had to swim to a shore. She’s shared her home and she shares her mom (also pictured). Her “mamma” is one of those angels that practices presence and fearlessness. She cares about you and your journey—it’s no wonder, they’re the Gilmore Girls, only better. And they are REAL _ What this photo is NOT showing.... Three gentlemen across from us; a timeless friendship that undeniably runs deep with acceptance, talents, and respect between them all. Picture: Entrepreneurs, motivation, and balance. /// Picture: Another giving heart I would love to write A PLETHORA about. /// Also- the women were to my left and not to my right ;) _ The table: A filling, delicious (Indian) meal. Shared plates. Easiness in the company sitting, hip to hip, six in a booth. Conversations served warm. _ The little things: Leaving a restaurant without having to brace for the cold air camping out behind that door. Comfort in lingering, talks outside a closing restaurant; filters meant for somewhere else. LAUGHS. _ Admiration. Adoration. Content. “Comparison is the thief of joy;” this is (my) life. Long caption not need approval. Reservations only for dinners. This is what’s on my menu. _ #Views from my seat. #Notes from a shore found... until next swim. I’m looking at you, #life. (at Chauhan Ale and Masala House)

[kirstenkirsing]

Practicing some #Wednesday #Witchcraft 😉 #CarrotCake. Emphasis on the carrots and less on the #sugar, Suga _ #Spellbook coming soon ;) But maybe 💁🏼‍♀️. Am I insta-famous yet? 😂 _ #KirsingRecipes #needmorehashtags (at Nashville, Tennessee)

[thegoodvybe]

[kirstenkirsing]

To a woman who is still more fashionable, more positive, definitely better at yoga and cooking than I’ll ever be; more quirky and who has read more books and quotes than me... Happy Mother’s Day to this #mom. I know it’s your day, but I’m in need of your sauce recipe & another book recommendation because children never stop needing or wanting (things from) their parents. 🖤 #mothersday (at Staten Island, New York)

[kirstenkirsing]

Repeating: #Home. It should be a bigger word. Not too long ago, I moved miles from “home.” Footsteps led by a familiar friend. But, can’t help but see another view from this #track... on my way to a destination called Somewhere - constantly inspired by humans along the way. And when I look back, my path seems tough to follow. But my heart’s been not. Finding pieces of ‘home’ in people and “things.” It’s more than a place; it’s a project. Here’s a fact: #gratitude found in every step. Won’t lie, there were times I couldn’t believe I left. Now I’m counting my blessings, my heartbeats, looking down at my feet and then up at how much “home” could mean. How unpredictably far it can stretch... Wednesday #poems from #Nashville (at Nashville, Tennessee)

[kirstenkirsing]

#Home. It should be a bigger word. Not too long ago, I moved miles from “home.” Footsteps led by a familiar friend. But, can’t help but see another view from this #track... on my way to a destination called Somewhere - constantly inspired by humans along the way. And when I look back, my path seems tough to follow. But my heart’s been not. Finding pieces of ‘home’ in people and “things.” It’s more than a place; it’s a project. Here’s a fact: #gratitude found in every step. Won’t lie, there were times I couldn’t believe I left. Now I’m counting my blessings, my heartbeats, looking down at my feet and then up at how much “home” could mean. How unpredictably far it can stretch... Wednesday #poems from #Nashville (at Nashville, Tennessee)