Wednesday, December 30, 2009


Sean, Me, Aly, Jordan: December 31, 2008 <3

Winter wind is unforgiving. The last brutal gusts of 2009 take my breath away and make my eyes tear. The dichotomy of forced dry heat in my home and harsh winter wind outside chronically makes my body uncomfortable. I always get sick around this time. I wish I felt better to bring in the New Year.

As I juxtapose my current state with that of a portrait of myself a year ago, there are few physical differences. I haven't changed very much on the surface at all: a new scar on my thumb, and broken bones that have since mended. (Also currently I have a sore throat, stuffy nose, and swollen glands - all byproducts of how I have been flirting with a sinus infection for the past week).

Internally, this past year has given me more of a mental-makeover than I have ever experienced. I sound like a broken record when I reminisce about Ireland - and I do fall into the habit of ruminating over my past - but 2009 may have been the best year of my life.

Pictures > Words:
09 in slivers:

I lament the ending of this year. It is another revelation that Dublin is in my past. I spent more than half of 2009 in Ireland and learned more about myself in those 3 seasons than I have since I started college. I will try, as always, to keep my nostalgic thoughts in check. A new year brings new beginnings: With graduation on the horizon, I have a new realization of the opportunities that lay ahead of me if I work toward them.

I want music to have a bigger role in my life.
I seek clarity, and the bravery to pursue what I discover.
I wish for health and safety, for others and myself.

Happy New Year.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

There will be light.

Day after day.

The sun set at 4:31 yesterday and that was the time when I got in my car to drive home for the night. After navigating around the groaning construction sight that had overtaken my street, I was on Route 18. The sky turned deep purple to black within the forty minute drive. As darkness settled all around me, bright lights reflected into me from cars, signs, stop lights and the winking lights on the tips of airplanes far away. All of these colors seemed amplified by the transparency of a mild sky. Noise and neon lights ricocheted between my windshield and myself.

I moved like a machine. My feet and hands through thoughtless movements led me home.

I let my mind wander aimlessly along the highway.

Driving is the cheapest, loneliest form of escapism that I have. It is just enough to clear my head. Sometimes I marvel in my recollection of a drive: I recall the mechanics of my body as I get in the car, close door, start engine, move... Then remarkably I often feel as though my next cognizant action is my hand slamming the car door shut as I arrive at my destination.

How did I get here?