january
this was my first full month living in san francisco. i acclimate quickly to the cold, dark mornings and the steady rhythm of routine. my cats merlin and gandalf move up from los angeles, and i feel the buds of excitement beginning to unfurl inside me. one morning before work, thomas and i sat by the massive window in front of le marais, quietly sipping coffee while watching the raindrops glide down in erratic patterns. we imagined all the things we would do with our new lives here.
february
sarah visits from berlin and we spend time mesmerized by monterey chrysaora, mission murals, and an underwhelming super bowl. i start feeling the heaviness of work weigh on me. it feels like a gray cloud is following me everywhere, but that cloud is actually just the entirety of the san franciscan sky.
march
full of frustration from injustice, self doubt from gaslighting, and fear of retaliation, i leave what i previously thought was a dream job. thoughts of antiestablishmentarianism take root. the buds inside me have bloomed into something i didn't anticipate, and it's so much more terrifying and freeing than i thought possible.
the structure of my life shifts suddenly: i get accepted into an art studio and immediately dive into preparing for an open studio show.
april
the dust of march's battles settles and my mental wellbeing worsens. i walk away from a four year relationship as well as the life i convinced myself to want in the months prior. i try to create things but everything looks and feels like nothing. i spend the month drinking a little too much and getting angry every time i wake up.
may
i turn twenty-eight with arms full of yellow roses, chocolate cake in my belly, and rosy faces all around me. i'm so, so lonely and filled with so, so much joy. i write up a storm to sort through the confusion. it is a beautiful mess.
june
a lot of june was spent chasing a certain kind of feeling in the humid los angeles summer.
july
i claim control over my life again and begin to shape it into something that feels worthwhile. after months of reading, reflecting, and reeling from the hypocrisy of this dystopian tech culture, my shifted worldview finally crystalizes into a solid foundation of values that determine how i want to to move through this world.
as i search for compassion in a seemingly morally bankrupt city, a rebellious spark begins snapping and popping inside me.
august
work gets really busy and the hunger to paint grumbles in the back of my mind. i begin teaching art & architecture at local schools and it locks me even deeper into a claustrophobic cycle i can't break free from. i lose myself to the busyness but simultaneously feel hyperaware of and endlessly grateful for the fact that there even is work. this is temporary. i am lucky.
when it became too much, i found moments to step outside to take large gulps of air.
september
time slips through my fingertips.
october
boys are assholes and i try to do the best that i can. the spark catches fire and the flames within me grow. i fly around the country to see friends and realize how much i've changed this year.
november
i retreat from the world and give myself time to focus on work that i love and to cuddle with my cats. the beautiful friendships i've forged throughout the year keep me warm as my body reluctantly adjusts to the cold once again.
december
life kicked me around all year long and transformed that silly, hopeful bud from january into this wildfire of a creature in december. i hair toss my way through the whole damn month. i find strength in the quiet and slow down just enough to allow inhales to fully expand into every neglected nook and cranny of my aching body. i am full again.
