three exposures from august in one frame. i spent all of last month getting serenaded into a somber midsummer night's dream by the sea then wrapped up in warm flannel and whispers by a good winter.
it has been a while since i’ve updated this photo journal, so here are some moments from the last few months. hopefully i’ll be back more regularly after this!
may 2019: turned 28 with arms full of roses and a belly full of chocolate cake. my actual birthday itself was spent in the company of a smashed up cake and i thought a lot about how isolated and directionless i felt.
june 2019: filled my month with faces that i never want to forget.
july 2019: so much change in so little time, but i began to love the loneliness almost to a fault. i drew and painted nonstop and made space for quiet in my brain and fullness in my heart. i spent days on end sitting on my bedroom floor without ever seeing the outside world. it was wonderful.
last week, a foggy berkeley morning
i am currently sitting next to the heater amongst boxes, alone in our apartment in san francisco. this morning, thomas and i woke up early to get coffee before work. we watched the rain fall and roll down the window while sinking our teeth into flaky, buttery pastries. i thought about what it would be like to fall in love with a city like this.
life has been a whirlwind spinning me in circles on pointed toes. i can’t wait to slow down and sift through all these photographs and scraps of writing. but until then, you can find me dancing tangles into my hair.
this summer was different from the typical sticky southern californian one that my skin is so used to. no — this was a summer of office air conditioning until sunset, sleepy accidental naps at the park, coffee-hazed domestic travels, and dreamy, slow-motion laughs that only come from constantly being surrounded by friends.
even though most of our mind space was filled with the stresses of development roadmaps, product market fit, traction plans, investment rounds, and more endless jargon... for just a few seconds in between, it felt like youth again.
26 hours of transit later, i found myself on a nighttime shinkansen to kyoto, watching the city lights dance around the darkness.
i slept soundly in a little attic room of the home of a older woman named keiko, who, because of my jet lag, spent a lot of time with me in the early morning sharing breakfast and watching japanese television. a lot of it consisted of celebrities commenting on visuals of most delicious food in tokyo. something was strangely familiar and comforting about the slow morning. we watched the sunrise and laid our eyes on a snow-laden kyoto -- the first snowfall of the year.
at 7am, i bundled up in five layers of clothing and made my way to the station to catch a train to fushimi inari, the shrine of 10,000 red gates. the cold chill of the air clashed with the warmth of my breath.
it was so quiet. all you could hear was the sound of your own footsteps, nearby cats softly whining at each other, and the aching of snow melting in the morning sun.
i left at around 10am, when the entirety of inari mountain began to awaken with people coming to hike, take pictures, and pray. because the day was still young, i decided to fulfill a year-long curiosity and revel in my love for train rides. with some plum-filled onigiri from 7/11 packed in my backpack, i made my way to nara - a 1.5 hour train ride away.
the stay in nara was short, and the stay in the deer park was even shorter. watching the deer bite at my coat and push me around for food with their shaved antlers was heartbreaking. after walking quite a distance, i found a little deer resting by a tree alone; i sat by her and pet her for a while before making my way back to the station to go straight to arashiyama's bamboo grove.
i took photographs for large groups of families and happy couples and felt a pang of loneliness amongst the endless crowds. i kept my eyes up where the leaves began to blend with the clouds and saw the bamboo sway a slightly.