seventeen oranges

RAMBLINGS BROUGHT TO YOU BY A CUBAN-BRED GINGER

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This is how chance makes me feel ✨

I had the incredible opportunity to see chance play 3 days ago at the American Airlines arena. My thoughts are still scattered. I was surrounded by a group of loving people. I felt electrified by his message. I am still processing the degree to which he derives his on-stage persona from preachers in black churches. I had so much fun. I’m inspired by his energy and passion for his work. I loved it.

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You don’t deserve a “thank you.”

“Oh mami, I just wanna taste you.”

As we grow staggeringly aware of parts of our bodies that we never knew could feel so nonproprietary  when you comment on them,  stranger,  our thoughts and hearts tremble  with confusion, shame, and disgust at how simply existing in our soul’s temples could turn us into refugee tents.

“What, no thank you?”

If only you knew that the weight we carry when we fear you, stranger, is far more heavy than  the bottle of pepper spray we clutch  as we walk away gripping our fragmented friends hoping we can hold each other together.

“...Bitch, you’re ugly anyway.”

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I leave in 5 days

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better

In order to get only pieces you have to

split things apart

into slices

or in chunks

or otherwise.

When it come’s to people, you love them whole

or shatter them 

or peel them

into s p l i n t e r s

or otherwise.

--

in a generation of customization 

make sure others love you whole, love you better

make sure you love others whole, love them better

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Listen to: Fémina

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10 Artists I’m Crushing On:

So I’ve been crushin’... and I thought hey why not spread the love?

Here’s a couple of artists I recommend you check out if you haven’t already! I’ve also added personal notes and updates on them so you get a better picture.

(listed in alphabetical order because I don’t like picking favorites)

1. Bully

Bully is an alt rock band formed by Alicia Bognanno in 2013. I also recently found out she graduated from Middle Tennessee State, which is pretty much on par to Belmont (my university) as far as quality of program for music business and other music-related majors. So that’s pretty cool. Bully is signed to Columbia Records and they're touring so if you wanna go watch her in all her glory I suggest you do so... It’s a glorious experience.

2. CIVILIAN

I love these guys with all of my heart. I saw them play for the first time my Junior year of high school when they were still based out of Fort Lauderdale, FL at my favorite venue. Frontman Ryan Alexander climbed the trusses on the side of the stage and sung his heart out. Since then I’ve been extremely invested in their music. They transplanted to Nashville, TN 6-8 months before I did to go to Belmont, where their second full length album You Wouldn’t Believe What Privilege Costs came into being, and was released only a few weeks ago. I think it’s an impeccable follow up to their debut Should This Noose Unloosen. Specific songs on the album that I particularly love are Michael, Cut & Run, I Told You, New Love, and Skulls (music video below).

3. The Lemon Twigs

4AD artists The Lemon Twigs have just released their debut album Do Hollywood. These guys are a force of nature.... 2 brothers age 17 and 19 out of Long Island are creating and playing music that I can only describe as anachronistic. Sir Elton John deemed them his new favorite band... Let that speak for itself. My favorite songs on the album are Baby and I Wanna Prove To You. Below is their music video for As Long As We’re Together. 

4. Lucy Dacus

I didn’t know how much I loved Lucy Dacus until I saw her live at Mercury Lounge a few weeks ago. More than her incredibly candid and charming presence, her earnest and sometimes painfully relatable songwriting draws you in and makes you go to that place you sometimes avoid because it hurts too much. Her debut album No Burden is a testament to her talent, but I strongly suggest you see her live because it really did a lot for me to witness such raw self-reflections. (I’ve linked her Audiotree session video because I don’t care for her music video for the single much.)

5. Magic City Hippies

I can’t say enough about these “Miami indie funk darlings.” I’ve luckily gotten to see them quite the bit while in Miami. Their grooves are contagious. They’ve just landed a great spot as openers for the upcoming Hippo Campus tour, so I 150% recommend you attending one of their shows! (Tour Dates) Their Hippie Castle EP was so incredibly fun, with songs that I’m sure could have potential commercial traction, like “Fanfare.” I’m hella looking forward to their next full-length, which I assume their single “Hush” will appear on (video below). 

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10 Bands (pt. 2):

Tumblr is dumb and only let me embed 5 videos at a time and I like the flush look with no links so here’s the rest of the bands from the previous post.

6. Masego

I know a surprisingly small amount of information about Masego... All I know is that the Pink Polo EP is straight gold. Sax incorporation is impeccable. Imma just let it speak for itself.

7. Methyl Ethel

Another band that I don't know much about for whatever reason. Signed to 4AD, I saw them perform at the 4AD Revue in NYC last month and was quite intrigued by their songs and demeanor. Their video for their single Twilight Driving off their album Oh Inhuman Spectacle isn’t exactly the best, but the song draws you in with an air of nostalgia and romance that I gravitate to. However, it’s not characteristic to the rest of the album which is filled with darker thoughts. 

8. serpentwithfeet

Self described “pagan gospel” artist serpentwithfeet has me dumbfounded. Just read this album review by Pitchfork and listen to “blisters” and you’ll get it. Ugh I’m in love. [no video to provide because there are none out.]

9. SunGhosts

“Sun drenched rock ‘n roll” from Miami packaged in 4 exciting darlings with an even more exhilarating live set = SunGhosts. Miami loves them, and so should you. Their debut self titled-album makes you happier with every track. Make sure to try to catch them live, because it’s one of the most fun sets you’ll have the pleasure of witnessing. Favorite songs on the album include: BB Gun, Car Commercial Song, and Meet Me At The Rainbow Bridge. Hydro Pump is hilarious... watch below.

10. Triathalon 

Savannah, GA based indie band Triathalon has stolen my heart. With surf rock influence and an abundance of fuzz pedals, their 2 albums Lo Tide and Nothing Bothers Me are good for any mood. I’m particularly impressed with their growth on their most recent EP, Cold Shower. The R&B influence gives it a new depth that moves it from cute indie pop to a more mature dimension. Cold Shower is one of my favorite releases of the year for sure... Please listen to it. Below is a song from their Audiotree session. “Hawaiian Boi” is probably the song with the least characteristic sound to the rest of their work, but still one of my favorites. 

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halloween got real a f

wendy’s where my sponsorship at ?

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Life has no pause button, but it does have bagels

This is a short account of events that occurred yesterday, October 22, as I tried to get to upstate New York to hang out at the barn and ride horses with my cousin.

After sprinting faster than a bat out of hell through Grand Central Station to catch the 8:50am train to Katonah, I tripped up a stair and landed on my hands and knees (which are really bruised now). I got myself up and fumbled up the rest of the stairs and then down another set and down another, unsuccessfully trying to weave through people who probably thought I was insane. When I got to the booth to ask what track to take I couldn’t even get the words out because I was gasping for air. I managed a “keh *gasp* to *gasp* nah,” to which I got a deadpan “8:50 track 108, you should run.” I took her advice and ran to the platform. But the best part is, in a quintessential Hollywood blockbuster-esque fashion, I got to the platform as the train was chugging away. I could hear that stupid song playing in my head… You know the one… “Cause ya had a bad day bla bla bla bla bla you sing a sad song just to turn it around…” The train might as well have had a giant middle finger on it’s rear, with a caption reading “this is directed at you Camila, ya dipshit.” Great. gREat. GREat. GREAT. 

Misty eyed, I drudged to the coffee shop on the lower level. I spotted an empty space on one of the benches and I dropped my 38294858 items beside me and slumped down (why in the damn hell am I always carrying a billion things???). All I wanted was breakfast and coffee… I had not so great dreams last night so I barely slept. I could really use the pick me up. But alas, it was cash only bc their system was down and I had a total of 77c on me. CLASSIC. 

So I returned to my bench of shame and kinda cried internally a little but not so much externally bc I’m really not about pity stares. I just kinda slouched there for a minute, in disbelief and exhaustion. I got a tap on the shoulder, and looked up to see the guy from the register with a brown bag in hand. He hands me a bagel with cream cheese and says “this is my breakfast but I haven’t had a minute to eat it. You can have it. Ill just make myself another, don’t worry. I hope your day gets better. " 

… 

I hope that you are kind to everyone you meet. You never know when a kind gesture can make all the difference. I left Brooklyn an hour in advance even though the commute to Grand Central is only 25 minutes. But I didn’t plan to wait for the 2 train for 12 minutes. I didn’t plan for the 4 train to not be running from Fulton. I didn’t plan to take the infamously slow J train for 1 stop so I could then transfer onto the 4. I didn’t plan for the 4 train doors to malfunction and cause a 10 minute delay. But I also didn’t plan for a stranger to make such a loving gesture that made me feel genuinely cared for. 

Life doesn’t pause for anyone, even when you find yourself disconnected from those you love, and are having a bad day, and need coffee, and plan well in advance for every foreseeable catastrophe you can think of, and really really REALLY need things to work out for you right now. 

Be good to others, consider their feelings, and try not to be permanently jaded by the crazy world we live in. Because in the end we’re all humans, with feelings and stories and good days and bad days and we’re all just trying to get through the long weeks and deal with the bad bosses and find reciprocated love and support, and somehow stay sane in the process. 

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Listen to: The Lemon Twigs

I haven’t been this excited about a band in a long time. Their debut album Do Hollywood drops today. Catch it on Spotify. Live it, love it, be part of it.

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Live from New York... IT’S SATURDAY NIGHT!

I recently had the super cool experience of viewing the SNL dress rehearsal for their first episode of 42nd season on air. I got my hands on a free stand by ticket after having visited the gift shop at the end of the NBC tour. (If you’re ever in town and want to see if you get lucky, that’s where you should go.) The host was Margot Robbie (known for her recent role as Harley Quinn in Suicide Squad), and the music al guest was The Weeknd. And all I had to do was stand in line for about an hour and a half (surrounded by some lovely people might I add).

I went with 2 friends, and once we got to the front of the line, they told us they could only let 2 of the 3 of us in. Heart-wrenching, I know. (Honestly I still feel pretty guilty about going in.) But alas, I sat down in an individual seat second row center of the upper level. Arguably the best spot in the house. 

My first thought was that the space was tiny compared to what I saw on TV. The double doors and steps down through the band were tiny! And that was one of about 5 or 6 sets that were set up. During commercial breaks they would quickly set up and tear down entire backdrops and props, fix the lighting, change the actors’ costumes, etc. It was exciting to see in real time, but I can only imagine how stressful it must be for the entire cast and crew. 

Most of the sketches were hilarious. It was great to see some of the personalities of the actors poke through their characters, especially during Weekend Update. It’s always been my favorite segment on SNL, and it was awesome to hear them making suggestions and riffing off the script. Mind you I was legitimately falling out of my chair laughing at “Big Papi.” (Update: I heard the n-word was spoken on camera... that didn’t happen during the dress, but in any case the sketch is hilarious. Find it here.) 

I thought Margot Robbie did a solid job as host. (Update: I found out she missed her cue for the final scene... so close to the finish line, yet so far...) I don’t know enough (or anything, really) about acting, so I’m not sure of how different it is to do sketch comedy live in comparison to a film. All in all though, I thought she did great under pressure. 

I do have some thoughts about the content chosen (by or for her?) to play. It was clear that the vast majority of the sketches that she played in only used her beauty as a means of setting up the comedic scene. While at the beginning I found it funny, by the end I was downright over it. Clearly she’s talented enough to get the gig as host, why not show more range? What really didn’t sit well with me was the sketch as the librarian. The stereotypical boys stare at the stereotypical sexy librarian, who then ends up being stereotypically ugly, but then because they're stereotypical boys, all’s well that end’s well as long as you show your tits. Really? 

Why does she have to be so hyper-sexualized again? Why is this her only function? Why does SNL continue to uphold one standard of beauty?

Are men really that gross that all they care about is seeing female breasts? Why is this something that we are laughing at and condoning as acceptable behavior? We’re perpetuating the idea that women’s breasts are only for sexual purposes, and that “boys will be boys” and not be able to control their “urges.” 

LET’S GROW UP PEOPLE. WOMEN ARE MORE THAN THEIR BOOBS. MEN ARE MORE THAN THEIR DICKS. LET’S STOP BEING DUMB.

Anywho, Rolling Stone has what they deem the top 3 sketches up here. 

I quite enjoyed the Weeknd’s performance. It’s incredible to see him live, because his vocals are never ever inaccurate. (Watch it here.) I thought his performance of “False Alarm” was energetic and engaging and all around awesome. It seems like Abel is shifting gears in this new album, with a fresh sound mirroring his fresh hair cut. The 2 singles released take a departure from the minimal sensual vibe that permeated his previous music into a more upbeat and colorful plane. Daft Punk’s influence on “Starboy” is undeniable, while leaving clear spaces for The Weeknd’s impeccable vocals to best display themselves. An interview with WMAN revealed The Weeknd’s new influences: Prince, The Smiths, Bad Brains, Talking Heads, etc. But while heading in a direction with more calculated and layered production, I’m sure it’ll still have the same sexiness we all attribute to his records.

--Skip this if you don’t want to hear my Weeknd digression--

What I take particular interest in is his new music video for The Weeknd’s third album title track “Starboy.” In some ways, it’s a quite literal representation of his new musical direction, as he suffocates his old self to give way to his new persona: Starboy. He smashes all of his awards and rides away on a sleek futuristic vehicle--the whole video in fact having a twinge of Daft Punk characteristic chrome and neon. In case you didn’t realize by now, The Weeknd is born anew, and Abel wants you to respect that. {RIP ABELXO}

Another layer to this new identity is a departure from traditional forms of recognition (awards from organizations, sales, etc.)... a sentiment that I wonder if it will be expounded upon formally at any point. All that I’ve seen (not that I’ve been keeping up that closely) is that apart from an obvious frustration with stardom, there is an idea that having tons of fans devalues the art created. Using a strong symbol like a cross as a means of destroying awards shows that there’s creative and commercial forces at play, a conflict between the concrete and the intellectual. Combined with angsty Instagram captions like “fans are killing the art,” and lyrics like “look what you’ve done,” I wonder where, how, and in what direction this idea will continue, if at all. It also seems to be at odds with him taking on giant slots like SNL and pushing merchandise all over his social media. I wonder if he is able, and if so how, to keep his relationship with his massive fanbase balanced in his mind. Regardless, I’m excited for the new stuff.

---

It was absolutely an experience of a lifetime. Second month in the big city and I get this wild once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. 

I feel like I might sign off formally on this one... HAVE A GREAT WEEK GUYS! 

Love and hugs and good things -- Camila <3

PS: I couldn’t finish this account without mentioning the hilarious impression of Donald Trump by Alec Baldwin. I have no words. Just see it for yourself (here).

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Listen to:

“Hush” // Magic City Hippies

Magic City Hippies have deemed themselves the designated “Miami indie funk darlings,” and their new single proves nothing short of the title. With a beyond catchy chorus that oozes funk, and a creative spacey outtro, “Hush” is just as smooth as it is contagious. Give it a listen, and let it take you away to a beach on Mars where everyone wears only silk robes.

Band’s SoundCloud here: https://soundcloud.com/robbyhunterband

I’ve had the absolute pleasure of seeing these lovely musicians live in Miami multiple times. If you’re in the Miami area, I’d definitely recommend going to their show!

Dates here: http://magiccityhippies.com/events/

[seventeenoranges]

cohesion || collision

Young the Giant // Radio City Music Hall // 9.17.16

     I went to see Young the Giant in concert on 9/17/16. It was at the iconic Radio City Music Hall. The evening was hectic and oxymoronic, and for that reason this piece is not conclusive or smiley in the slightest. Sorry if that doesn’t sit well with you. Here are some of my thoughts: 

     In a raw sense, it was like stepping into a sonic kaleidoscope. You feel like the foam on the shore of the beach bubbling after the wave crashes. The bubbling may lull, but never fully die out because the next wave would come in and crash before you knew it. Always revitalized, always at the edge of your being. The thickly layered sounds made the air dense enough to bite into like a yummy chocolate cake.

     This show was by far one of the best I’ve seen in terms of the quality of sound and arrangement. The songs place you in a setting somewhere between earth and space, making you feel just far away enough from the fray, but not so far that you’re completely disconnected. What takes you away is the richness of the sounds they create, carefully crafted and layered so that it’s dense yet simultaneously light. The conversation between the rhythm and lead guitar allows for long held notes to serve as a thoughtful backdrop to delicate treble movements. This foundation complements the unique tone of lead singer Sameer Ghadia’s voice, and his occasional punctuational use of different cowbells and other percussion instruments. The drums draw everyone in to the “kumbaya” effect that their music incites, as everyone falls into a communal rhythm. The subject of the lyrical content allows for the songs to be relevant and relatable, while also providing a poetic counterpoint to the spacey places that the instrumentation takes you.

     The show was good good fun. They finished off with their greatest radio hit “My Body.” I took a second to look back, and saw 3 floors of people all dancing and clapping in unison, which gave me chills from head to toe. In that moment, all the craziness of being in the bustling city was drowned out by a cohesiveness and connectedness that I felt with every other person in that building. I thank Young the Giant immensely for that.

     For that reason, the events that occurred after the concert were particularly disconcerting.

      After turning on my phone after the set, I had 32 texts from different friends and family asking if I was ok. While I was at the concert, a bomb had exploded in Chelsea, a few blocks from where I take classes. It had not resulted in any deaths, and investigations were ongoing, but there was no ability to gauge the severity of the situation. I and a group of friends went to go get 99c pizza a few blocks away before heading back to Brooklyn. Then, my friend got a notification that there was another suspected bomb threat in the area. We ran down to the nearest train station where police had all movement into Manhattan frozen.

     After having waited 5 minutes we all got scared to stay any longer, as we heard police sirens upstairs. About 8 blocks down we saw police lights, so we walked in the other direction until our uber got to us. It took us an hour and a half to get back to Brooklyn, which is usually a 20-25 minute drive. We were parked on the Brooklyn bridge for 30 minutes.

     Coping with a situation like this was impossible. I’ve never been more afraid. Any sound would make me flinch, and I struggled to keep it together. While on the bridge, I put on my seatbelt and made sure I knew how to unlock the door of the car just in case we’d fall into the water. To distract ourselves, my friends and I were singing emo jams from our middle school years at the top of our lungs while holding hands. We thanked our uber driver about a dozen times for picking us up, and for trying to get us back safely.

     We got to our dorm building beyond relieved. But the wildly opposing emotions kept pushing against each other making my body shake. It was strange because I felt no comfort by talking to people, and nobody was really telling me that it was going to be okay. And even if they did, I had ask them for it, because texts can't communicate the way your body and mind reacts to situations like this. I laughed nervously as I talked to my roommates, but the laughs were just ways of letting out compacted nervous energy. 

---

     It’s odd to experience pure bliss and it’s exact counterpoint within minutes. I could make a lofty statement about the seemingly infinite range of human feeling, and how raw both emotions felt, good and bad. But I’d rather not romanticize something that felt truly confusing, alarming, and unprecedented. Just because it’s something I haven’t experienced before doesn’t mean I have to make an artful piece about it. Some things should just be left as they are.

     It left me feeling sick to my stomach. Thinking about it still does. And for that reason, I can’t conclude anything but the fact that cohesion and collision can exist simultaneously, and we just have to deal with the oxymoron.

[seventeenoranges]

A Good Place: The Cottage

While in New York for the semester, I’m taking an online graduation required class entitled “Third Year Writing.” My first thought was ah shit, First Year Writing was bad enough. But the class has had some probing assignments so far that I’ll probably be posting sporadically. The assignment due tonight was inspired by the findings of Jennifer E. Cross in an article entitled “What is a sense of place?” (Full piece at: http://western.edu/sites/default/files/documents/cross_headwatersXII.pdf) We were told to describe a good place. My teacher’s comments were sweet: “This piece is full of smart writing and terrific details.” This is what I came up with:

-----------

It was the established meeting place for us between the ages of 15 and 18. Plus, our parents were thrilled that we were in the confines of one of their property lines. So we met there, in that wonderful shrine of privacy. A universe parallel to our all-female-college-prep-pleated-skirt-knee-highs life which allowed for our minds to speak even the most gibberish of gibberishes. Our thoughts made us feel like a punk Plato or angsty teen Socrates, although if you think about it, Socrates was pretty angsty. We questioned everything to the point where even Nietzche would have rolled his eyes. Or so I thought anyway. "The Cottage™": an oversaturated thinktank for not-so-emo-turned-sorta-alternative kids like us.

To clarify, it was a small white structure plopped 6 feet away from the back door of my best friend Izzy's house. The door was moldy and held together with duct tape at the bottom. The tiles on the roof were once white but now looked to have a dark green spongy texture typical of old Spanish structures in Miami. (Edit: This has been since removed by Izzy’s gallant father with a pressure cleaner on a steamy summer day.) The cottage had enough room for a Frankenstein drum set, a gray couch, a TV, a small fridge, some shelving, guitars on the wall, and a bed who's mattress could cause puncture wounds from the way the jagged springs poked about. That being said, with the few items the cottage housed, every item's placement was intentional; every space was created to maximize functionality, and to procure the highest degree of analytical outflow (good bad or ugly). These decisions to make an intentional space mirrored our outlook on what this place communally was: an ideological monument erected to venerate the unique conversations and often whack conclusions that made us feel liberated and full to the brim with wonder and excitement.

We met up there after school and on the weekends when we could. Whether it be because we were having mediocre jam sessions, or painting pictures of our amazing fictional futures, while in the cottage I always felt like I was up in space, the gravity of our daily grind and life expectations miles away. Somehow the duct tape at the bottom of the door did the job of sealing the world out.

But more than that it served as a sturdy lock to our communal diary. We'd sit and think thoughtful things and speak sublime sentences and it kept them safe right where they needed to be. For girls raised in conservative Hispanic environments, the idea of releasing some of those thoughts into the world was unsettling at the age of 15. So we marinated in them instead, and grew more seasoned in our ways of thinking and understanding of ourselves, so that when we finally opened up our doors to the world, we knew that we were good and ready. 

But in time we started cracking open the windows, and leaving the door unlocked. Then every so often we'd invite Izzy's parents in, or mine, and play some music for them. In time, our “jams” were the center of attention at family dinners, a display of our own sloppy creation. Slowly the conditions on the outside filtered in and our thoughts from the inside slipped out, first in whispers, which turned into phrases, which turned into sentences. Soon enough stacks of novels resided on both sides of the door, keeping it propped upright after the duct tape finally lost its stick, and the wood gave out where the door lock clung. 

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think my mom will ever approve of the fact that I don’t shave my legs. And at the same token, I’ll never be able to grasp why it’s important to “put yourself together” on the days you don’t feel like it, or why my dad insists that my hair be brushed every day. But it’s the days when we agree to disagree that matter most. And although I may still be finding my internal equilibrium, I feel myself becoming more whole as my 2 worlds inside and outside of the door collide.

[seventeenoranges]

Listen to: 

Space is Only Noise // Nicolas Jaar

I’m very happy I took a listen to this album, especially since I used it as a backdrop to some creative writing I’m working on. I was enticed to listen to it when I read a Pitchfork article by Mike Powell saying that it sounded “like the sound of the ocean playing from inside a conch shell.” Although quite literal in this sentiment at times, since oceanic samples do permeate the album, it also speaks to a deeper sensation that the sounds bring out. It’s simultaneously light and heavy, building and rumbling and tumbling down, expanding and contracting down to a pin point that draws you in and out of your present. It was interesting. Give it a listen. Just do it.

[seventeenoranges]

an introduction to barcode living

       Today was my first official day as a temporary resident of the “Big Apple.” I’m living in Brooklyn Heights, a quiet family-oriented sector of this monster of a situation known as ~New York~. My dad, being the way he is, wanted to orient me so that I could get a feel of where I was before he left. Thus, we embarked on a 7 hour excursion which took me through Chinatown, Little Italy, SoHo, NoHo, and the NYU area.

       To give a bit of context, I’m currently doing a semester away from Nashville through a program from my university. I’m supposed to be interning and taking a couple of classes, while aggressively networking so that I can plug myself into the music industry, in hopes that I can find a job when I graduate. To say the least, I’m freaking out. I also got rejected by a pretty prominent company today, so I’m shaking at the knees.

       However, I’m also hoping to undo, dissect, and absorb what is famously/infamously known as “New York.” Look further than who’s working at what company and who I need to meet to reach my career goals. I want to understand the reason why people walk with a wider step and always cross the street before the lit up man indicates to do so. I want to know why anonymity is simultaneously security and mortality. I want to see both the mosaic and the tiny tiles of accents, ethnicities, aesthetics, and stories woven to create the worldwide impression this city makes in the minds of many.

       Call it cheesy, but I really like brie and manchego and paired with a cabernet and good friends it always ends up being a hella time.

       Do not be fooled however, because I’m in fact scared out of my mind. I’m fearful of not making friends and having to take too many late night trains alone. I’m afraid of the anonymity. I’m afraid of the barcode streets as companies scan me like a price tag to see if I’m a worthwhile investment. Alas, an anxious mind renders an anxious time.

       But, that doesn’t deter me from seeing that this experience will allow me to grow and stretch in directions my brain hasn’t been tugged before, and that can NEVER be a bad thing. Growing pains are expected, but that’s always an indicator that I’m in a transformative process to be a more healthy adult, as I become more in touch with my abilities, character, and identity. And in this sense, I’m excited as hell to see what I come to be.

       Plus, thinking about all the AMAZING FOOD that awaits is enough to cut through some of the stress. (Criolla al fin…)

August 19, 2016

[talkinlikeyoudo]

Van Gogh, Worn Out, 1882 // Facedown by The 1975

Van Gogh, At Eternity’s Gate or On The Threshold of Eternity, 1890 // Lostmyhead by The 1975

(don’t remove caption/source)