I fell asleep this afternoon in the way afternoon naps always happen: quietly and suddenly. You start off innocently enough by reading a book, but then your eyes grow heavy and your head grows tired until suddenly you find that you've gone from sitting up to laying down (with your eyes shut), succumbing to the drowsiness.
Deeply I slept, the kind of sleep that is filled with an almost tangible peacefulness but void of dreams. When I woke, a thin gauze of clouds shifted the light from golden to gray; the most profound, quiet peacefulness came over me.
In that moment, I was content. I may never have the life I envision, but I still want to be satisfied by it.
I read Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry a few weeks ago; he is the master of chronicling the kind of contentedness I hope for. The lives his characters lead are very hard but there is still an aura of contentedness. No, aura is the wrong word--it's such a strong sense, a feeling so palpable you can't help but want the same.
That's what I want in my life: the ability to be content despite hardships. Especially now, when life isn't exactly hard but it isn't exactly easy either, contentedness is what I need the most.

I'm back to blogging for now, with a spruced up design and some new/updated content that I hope you'll enjoy.

Hello friends. How are you? No, really, how have you been doing? I would love to know.

To be honest, I've been in a winter slump. I am itching for the spring and summer months and wondering what to do with this little blog. I've reached a crossroads and need to decide if I want to keep moving forward in the same direction or if it's time for a change.

I've thought about taking a break from blogging, or quitting altogether. I've contemplated moving to a new site or maybe just shifting the content around a little--turning this blog into a visual diary of sorts, with more frequent posts and a greater focus on photography--but I don't know. What do you think? I miss blogging properly...but there has been a lot going on in the last few weeks that I didn't feel comfortable sharing here. So I kept quiet, because I hate feeling like a fake. It's hard, though, trying to be real (whatever that word means anymore) and transparent on a blogging platform.

This isn't any type of "rediscovery" or confessional post. This is just me being honest (and if we're talking honest: my room is a disaster, my brain consists of post-midterm mush, and I've only left the house twice this week, just so you know). And I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry for sucking at blogging lately. I hope to get back into the saddle once I figure out what the heck I want to do (which might be awhile). Of course I will still be posting here and there, but posts are going to continue to be a little sparse. But in the meantime, you can always keep up with me via twitter, tumblr, and instagram! (sheesh that's a lot of social media)

Thanks for sticking around, guys. ♥

(chalkboard and words courtesy of little sisters playing school, taken on instagram)

inspired by lillian

story one My grandparents' house is filled with photographs of loved ones. There are both snapshots and formal portraits and I love to wander through the house, each floorboard creaking with love, looking at familiar faces and the faces of people that I've never met but feel like I have through the stories. I don't think I can adequately express how much my family means to me. They are my life, my everything. And I may only be sixteen years old, but I so look forward to the day that I start my own little family and pass on the stories as they were told to me.

story two This is the ugly sweater that grew on me. I saw it hanging on the rack and felt sorry for it and rescued it from a thrift shop for a dollar fifty. Instead of "thrifted" clothes, my mom and I decided to start calling them "rescued" clothes...because who else is going to take the clothes home and love them? (sometimes we're silly and sentimental like that)

story three As the summer drew to a close, I shared a little room in a house by the beach with my two older sisters for a week. The ceiling was sloped and the windows adorned with homemade red checkered curtains and I slept on a cot in the center of the room, with my sisters on either side of me. I walked to the beach barefoot on the little path, the dusty pebbles warm on the soles of my feet and my towel slung across my shoulder. If I try hard, I can still smell the clean fresh ocean air and taste the salt on my tongue. We ate nearly every meal outside, crammed around a too-small table, and while there may have been a shortage of space, there certainly wasn't a shortage of laughing and memory-making.

story four I thrive on simple dinners of soup and salad and bread eaten with friends around a cozy kitchen table. Community and the bonds that are made over meals is what life is truly about. It's funny how much of a difference some vegetables and chicken stock simmered on a stove and the company of good people make.

listen // watch // ponder

It takes a few days of exploring and experiencing to fall in love with a place. I've lived in this town for over four years, but it wasn't until this past week that I truly fell in love with it. Gosh, I really love where I live.
Case in point: on Friday night, there was a art exhibition in an up-and-coming area, and after we'd meandered through the art on display and watched glassblowers work their magic, we boarded an old trolley and drove through the city all lit up with lights. The interior of the trolley creaked with each turn and the music played softly and the buildings were streaks of colored light.
And then there's a new coffee shop that I've visited twice in the past week, quickly becoming my new favorite. One room is dedicated solely to the purpose of a library and there are pillars made of books; the chairs and tables and wood on the walls are reclaimed; chandeliers and lamps hang upside-down from the ceiling; and the whole front and side of the building are floor-to-ceiling windows. Let's be real here: starbucks (or any other chain coffee shop) is good and convenient and all, but it's overrated. Local beats commercial any day; I love supporting the places and the people behind the places that make up this wonderful city.
Christmas break, it was nice knowin' ya. You've been good to me--and thanks for reintroducing me to my town.
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I'd love to hear a favorite thing about the place where you live!