in the depths of the jungle, the air thickly coated our skin until the release of rain.
sunsoaked amongst flowers in bangkok
, travel
by the sea in la gi, vietnam
i spent two days in a little beach village about two hours from saigon. it was quiet, marked by dreamy morning landscapes, hair whipping around my face on long scooter rides, bustling markets, and meals inspired by the sea.
on my second day in la gi, i rose from the floor mattress after three hours of sleep and rode a scooter eastward towards the sunrise. on the roads at 4am were entire families, friends, siblings, individuals, all riding scooters, all heading towards the beach. people came to soak in the sea, exercise on the cool sand, and play ball games that i didn't understand. the sky was a blue gray haze and the air was damp from the night. the sun was still hiding behind a curtain of clouds.
as soon as the first yellow rays began to reflect in the water, the entire beach emptied and the village streets began to yawn.
a year in photographs 2017
january
the year starts off with almost running out of gas in southern utah. i flew to vietnam for the first time and struggle with feelings of belonging. i met the unfamiliar faces of my step family, then cried at the airport when i had to say good bye.
february
matthew and i went to british columbia, driving along slippery slopes, skiing in cotton candy snow, and basking in the sunset reflections in the white mountains. i discovered my paranoia of bear tracks in the snow and rattlesnakes hiding in dead logs while hiking by myself. i also discovered how amazing tim horton's is.
march
the superbloom came to california and i've never been happier.
april
i was on the road sporadically - a wedding in nashville, a poker tournament in reno. in between, i fell in love with the colors of spring and hated everything i created.
may
i turned 26 alone in a tree house in argentina.
june
it was summer, but my skin barely touched the sun. a sudden urge to go to zion overcame me, so matthew and i set out to utah... only to have the symptoms of a kidney infection overtake me during one of the most dangerous hikes we've been on. i cried all 9 hours home and curled up in bed for days.
i crossed "hike angels landing" off my bucket list.
july
i spent a lot of time outdoors and equally as much time reading political books and articles. i felt hopeful and hopeless, but mostly uncertain about what my role was.
a four inch scar now runs along my right shin from drinking too much vodka, looking at the stars, and tripping over a cement block.
august
my family released my mum's ashes into the sea and i am upset by how anti-cathartic it is. i filled my apartment with chrysanthemums because it helps.
later in the month, we saw a sliver of the solar eclipse and it was magical. i added "witness a total solar eclipse" to my bucket list.
september
i cut my bangs just in time to head over to europe for two weeks. sarah, thomas, & i drove around the south of france, then ate our way up to milan, vienna, and prague. i saw gustav klimt's paintings at the belvedere and it helped add rich colors back into my work.
october
i went back to vietnam to visit my dad who suddenly moved away in the summer. i explored more of the countryside, spent a wonderful few days with my ex-step family, then flew over to thailand to get my scuba diving license.
after a month of sleepless nights working, homesickness began to spread in my bones. i was exhausted.
november
i worked a lot. i felt lonely. it felt like the world was on fire.
december
the southern californian fires filled my lungs with a hint of smoke and ash. i thought about how i am not where i want to be, but i am probably exactly where i am supposed to be. i threw away my maps searching for happiness and surrender to the fluidity of existing.
