voting is your voice. use it.

Most of the people I know vote. It's been that way ever since college. I tend to hang out with politically-minded people who take pride in their civic duties. So maybe I'm preaching to the choir here.

When I was seventeen, I pre-registered to vote in Florida, because I wanted to make sure my voice would count. I registered in North Carolina when I was eighteen and in college. I went to the polls for the first time and was sorely disappointed when the other guy won.

I didn't get discouraged, though I did become quite sad in the days that followed the 2004 election. (I may have dressed all in black, may have taped a sign to my shirt that said something like "fuck the government." What can I say, I was eighteen.) Because see, here's the thing. Not voting is basically giving up your voice. That's why I have voted in every election I could since I turned eighteen. (With the exception of the 2010 election, because I apparently did not register in time. C'est la vie.) That's why I stood in line after work last Thursday to vote early and could not stop smiling.

I mean, I got to vote for marriage equality in Maryland! How awesome is that? (Question 6, Maryland, if you haven't heard.) I only wish I could vote in Florida, too, because abortion rights are at stake. I've urged friends and family in the state to vote against Amendment 6, because it is desperate in Florida. Because I believe in women. Because if we start losing ground, I'm afraid of where we may end up.

I don't know what the arguments for Romney are, if there are any that can withstand scrutiny. I've had friends say they aren't scared of a Romney presidency, because who knows, maybe he'll flip-flop back towards center. But I am. I am scared of what would happen if we as a nation elect that man. I am scared for women's rights and LGBTQ rights.

What this boils down to is: vote. Voting is your voice. Use it.

be twenty-six

I took that picture last year, on my twenty-fifth birthday. When this posts, I will be twenty-six. (I'm writing this in the past, on Friday.) Twenty-five has been good to me, and to my art: I enter my twenty-sixth year a showcased photographer, a published author. It feels good. Let's hope twenty-six is more of the same!

And, as a bonus, I'm offering a discount in my etsy store for one week only! Use the coupon code BDAY26 to get 26% off any item.

just a post about writing, I guess

I am tired. Every day this week I have sat at my computer, thinking, really, another 1000 words? Didn't I just do that yesterday? I have to do it again? I don't actually have to, of course, but then again, I do. The best part of committing to writing 1000 words a day is that it forces me to write even when I don't want to.

*

I first read Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird when I was sixteen. My AP Language teacher let me borrow it when I finished all our other reading, and it kind of changed my life. I bought my own copy and underlined and highlighted different passages. I probably reread it about once a year, usually when I feel stuck and unmotivated. One of the best lessons in that book is about publication, and how it won't fix you. If (like me) you are an anxious mess before publication, you will still be one afterward.

*

Really, I'm not sure what the goal of this post is. To hammer home that lesson? This week has been hard for writing, and I have been a little bit of an anxious mess at times. Publication, after all, is just another thing. A great thing, a thing I am glad and grateful for, but still just a thing. As one of Lamott's friends says in the book, the world cannot grant you peace, but it also cannot take it away.

and then I got published

Issue 011 of Luna Station Quarterly is now live! You can read my story, "The Marriage of Ariadne," here. Or you can purchase it in ebook form. (It's only $2.99!)

Thanks again to everyone for all your support! I hope you enjoy my story.

over the moon

So, I've got some big news to share: I am super excited to announce that my story, "The Marriage of Ariadne," will be published in the September 1 issue of Luna Station Quarterly. This will be my first publication and I am, appropriately, kind of over the moon about it.

actually good luck

Last week, my mala beads caught on the door handle to my office. I didn't realize it until the string was snapping, until the beads burst onto the carpet. Like a vampire in an old myth, I was compelled to kneel down and collect every one I could see off the floor.

As I did so, I started to berate myself. I told myself that I was a bad buddhist, that I should give up my attachment to the beads (which I've worn every day for six years - they were a gift from a friend who spent some time in India), that after all didn't I hear that beads breaking was actually good luck.

And then, I let it go. Not the attachment, but the guilt over it.

I'm still sad, of course, that the beads are gone, but this is the way life is, after all: transitory. Mala beads will not last. This blog will not last. I will not last. And that's okay. That is how it should be.

a photo by my dear friend katie, on the occasion of my 20^th birthday,
featuring my then-new mala beads

photo friday

there are so many things to say,
and so many different places i could say it,
so mostly i keep it to myself,
scribbling it down in my notebooks.

photo friday

this was a delicious pizza.

photo friday

by the time you read this,
i will be on my way
to that view.
just the other day, i thought:
i wish i could hide away
in a cabin in the woods.
and then i realized,
i get to do exactly that.
i am, after all, a very lucky girl.

(if you would like that view in your own home, the print is available in the etsy store.)

photo friday

we lost power on friday night,
after the storm.
it didn't come back until tuesday afternoon,
then flickered off again thursday
for a little while,
before coming back on.

photo friday

dive right in

It's been a while, I know. I'm not sure how to catch up on the amount of time since I was last here, but let me just dive right in.

Last night, I got to participate in an arts showcase, full of DC-local artists. The local director found my Etsy store and invited me to show my photos - originally in the May show, but I felt like I needed more time than that, so we agreed on the June showcase.

Shortly after that, or about when ticket sales opened on May 1, I started to become a wreck. It was, after all, my very first art show and I had tickets to sell. But I took the steps I needed to: figured out which pictures to show, ordered the prints, decided on how to display them, chose my space for the show. All the while I was all over social media trying to promote the show. I watched my showcase report neurotically, waiting for the slow uptick in ticket sales. I had many small anxiety attacks over it.

Finally, somehow, the night arrived. After a minor disaster involving my display, the show opened and the people came flooding in. Suddenly I was surrounded by family and friends, some of whom I hadn't seen in years and years. Everyone who stopped to look at my photos complimented me on them (okay, well, some people glanced and moved on, to be fair). I am so, so grateful to those who showed up, and to those who supported me from afar.

The night was a success - I sold some pictures, gave out my business card to some folks, met some other local artists, and generally felt confident that my art was good, that it spoke for itself. The process was sometimes a hassle, my body ached from standing for four hours, and I had what Daniel termed an "art hangover" this morning, but overall definitely worth it.