This weekend went by in a blur. Between having a new pup, working Friday and celebrating Mother's Day/my Dad's birthday, it barely feels like it happened!

Late nights, early mornings (not all pup related!) have made me super sleepy and in need of the quad shot iced coffee I'm drinking this morning. But it was a gorgeous weekend, our puppers is doing great- she already is understanding "sit" and has been able to be loose in the yard to play without her lead. 

I made a pretty little brunch Sunday morning for my parents and we were able to visit and introduce them to their new grand-pup, and we honestly had the most gorgeous weather... and I made some yummy G&Ts Friday night for when my sister and I caught up on The Handmaid's Tale. (totally addicted to the show- I hate waiting week to week for a new episode! Its 2017 Hulu... seriously!) 


Also... is there anything cuter than a sleeping puppy and the positions they fall dead asleep in?! I think not... 


This weekend I tried to soak up the sun, despite the chilly weather, saw a rainbow, drank coffee and read a lot. I also tried to pretend I'm not a plant murderer by purchasing some new plants and repotting some current ones that haven't died just yet. (fingers crossed they'll live after the woman-handling I gave them yesterday!) 

Here are a few things I'm loving from the weekend...


Sunday morning I sat at Mission Coffee Co., had a vanilla latte and started reading Stephen King's, On Writing. Then I proceeded to keep reading it all day. I'm way too much of a chicken to read his novels (I skimmed Carrie, and saw IT, both scarred me.) but this is the sort of book I enjoy. 

"If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot. There's no way around these two things that I'm aware of, no shortcut." -Stephen King

The TED Talk, by Emily Wapnick...

"Where did you learn to assign the meaning of "wrong" or "abnormal" to doing many things? I'll tell you where you learnt it, you learnt it from the culture."

I struggle with the idea that I have yet to settle on a "thing" that I specialize in, especially when it comes to my career. Am I an interior designer? Photographer? Writer? Visual display artist? Stylist? Musician? Traveler? Yes. Yes I am. I hate the pressure I feel to be one thing- I've always hated labels in general... its reassuring to realize there are many others out there who relate. Emilie's book is definitely going on my to-read list. (and not just because we share a name!)

This week I spotted a beautiful little upright piano on Craigslist- and while it wasn't necessarily in my budget for this pay-period, when I went to look at it and try it out, I ended up purchasing it. I'm so incredibly excited- I have never owned anything other than an electronic keyboard/workstation (I move a lot... pianos are heavy!) and I haven't truly played in over a year... currently making a list of songs to learn, and listening to this beautiful playlist. 

Friday I volunteered at The Decorator's Showhouse- its the first year being held at The Columbus Museum of Art, the first time a Decorator's Showhouse has been held AT a museum. I think its a fun idea- it definitely presented the designers with a different, less traditional challenge- but one I appreciated as I've worked as a visual display artist and am familiar with creating vignettes and moments in less traditional spaces. Plus I think it probably is drawing different types of visitors!

Friday was Cinco De Mayo... I can't really say we partied hard... but we did have one margarita at the recently opened Cosecha- the weather was super crummy, but the marg was delicious and I can't wait to go back and enjoy the patio on a sunny evening! 

Saturday evening my sister and I headed to German Village to walk around a bit and have some pizza... then we caught a rainbow on the drive home.

I hope you all had a beautiful weekend... and here's to a happy Monday!





All night
the dark buds of dreams

In the center
of every petal
is a letter,
and you imagine

if you could only remember
and string them all together
they would spell the answer.
It is a long night,

and not an easy one—-
you have so many branches,
and there are diversions—-
birds that come and go,

the black fox that lies down
to sleep beneath you,
the moon staring
with her bone-white eye.

Finally you have spent
all the energy you can
and you drag from the ground
the muddy skirt of your roots

and leap awake
with two or three syllables
like water in your mouth
and a sense

of loss—-a memory
not yet of a word,
certainly not yet the answer—-
only how it feels

when deep in the tree
all the locks click open,
and the fire surges through the wood,
and the blossoms blossom.


--Mary Oliver

On Loss

How do I keep on like this? As soon as I have stumbled upon another kindred soul, a person, a friend who gets me and is not already in a serious relationship or married...

She is lost.

And I am always happy for her. She falls in love- how can I not be over-the-moon delighted that a friend has found something she has wanted?

But, yet again, there is loss.

I have lost someone. 


They are no longer my person.

For I have no person.

(this is made abundantly clearer each time this occurs.)

How do I continually gather happiness for friends, while fighting this ache in my spirit? This question that arises like bile in my throat...

"Will I ever have a person?"


Or will I forever be on the sidelines, watching others pair with one another. They'll keep me in their lives, we'll remain friends, maybe even good ones, but they are lost to me.

They have a person. 

And I do not.

Writing Snippets

Snippets taken from my notes app, journal or writing notebook, words that have inspired, intrigued, confused, challenged, touched or even wounded... some written and composed by me- some quotes or blurbs from other writers.

"I love the silent hour of night
For blissful dreams may then arise
Revealing to my charmed sight
What may not bless my waking eyes"
-A. Brontë

"Sometimes, it doesn't matter how much you want something..."

"I never fully believed in the unexpected- that's the thing. You can't expect it..."


One of the things I appreciate about my current employment is that I work Mon-Thurs. Meaning I get a three day weekend every week. Having Fridays off is extremely wonderful. 

Saturday morning  I woke up to POURING rain and skies that were dark as could be. The rain paused just enough for me to pop out to Flowers & Bread Co. over on High Street and grab a coffee... and maybe a mini chocolate bundt cake. You'll never know for sure because I didn't take a photo for evidence!

This week my sister and I received the "okay" to get a dog/puppy from our landord! We went and played with a feisty little corgi lady on Saturday- whom we LOVED but cost as much as a used car. (cue sad music and abandonment trauma) So we're on the hunt- and even though we're super drawn to Corgi pups, we'll see who we end up falling in love with. 

Later on Saturday I made the drive to see a dear friend who lives in Dayton and spent the night and Sunday morning catching up with her. Also, drinking multiple cups of coffee. Because, duh.

I finally caved and made my first Jeni's run of the season! I'd been wanting to try Supermoon and the Genmaicha & Marshmallows.... um, they were delightful, and a lovely pairing. Next time I want to try the Mango Buttermilk Sorbet. Happy Monday folks- I hope you all had lovely weekends!

April Showers

Interestingly enough, one of the main ways I got involved on the internet and with blogging way back when was in a fashion community on Flickr and a site called My Style Diary. Fashion used to be extremely important to me- especially looking unique and different... think thrifted dresses and colored tights and costume jewelry. The more absurd the better.

On and off through the years I've had phases where I've done outfit photos- which has always been a bit of an exercise in placing myself in front of the lens. As a general rule I take the photos myself, either with a timer or with a tiny remote... because I am AWKWARD in front of the camera and I hate to subject others to how critical and weird I am. (my sister snapped some photos of me in this outfit yesterday, and in nearly ALL the photos I was squinting like a huge goober.)

I find it interesting to think back on my style evolution- I tend to think for artistic and visual people, personal style can tell a large part of your creative journey.

I had a plaid skirt and beret phase (Not lying. No, I will not post photos) a hippie chick with broom skirts and bell bottoms moment. I went through my crazy vintage stage and big jewelry, then only cute dresses (a la Zooey Deschanel) I had no clue what I was doing while I was traveling the world to come back and go pretty minimal, cutting out most colors and embracing neutrals.

This year though I find myself taking my minimal basics (stripes, chambray and black mostly) and adding some bohemian elements back in. I won't lie, I've always had a bit of a hippy chick floating around in my heart. Maybe it comes from my mom, maybe from the comfort of free flowing feminine clothing and the feel of a bohemian artist who travels the world (except I live in Ohio) I'm not sure exactly what it is, but I'm having fun taking it and mixing it with some of my more grown-up feeling pieces and making it mine. 


Thoughts this week...

Its been a busy week- but it's been so because I've been intentional. There's a fine line between business for the sake of business, where the end result is exhaustion and stress, and a happy sort of busy, where I feel happily occupied. The winter months were tough, (they always are) and I've been trying to shake off any and all lingering gray clouds. 

We've had lovely weather this week and I've taken to spending the last bit before sunset, or just after, sitting on our porch when possible. Writing, taking a photograph or two, listening to music and breathing. Last night I sat on our front steps, thinking that the week had been pretty nice so far, and looking forward to the weekend-- and I suddenly I felt tired.

This week has been nice, its been full. But there's a week following. And a week after that... and WHY IS THERE NO END TO ANYTHING?! (sorry, a bit dramatic? Maybe! Haha.) But its like the grocery/cooking cycle. You do GREAT one week, shopping and packing lunches and having things on hand for supper and healthy snacks... and then you just have to do it. All. Over. Again. And every week isn't going to look awesome. There are going to be weeks when fast food is in rotation, where eating a spoonful of almond butter and some pretzels constitutes dinner. The same with intentionality (which, apparently isn't a word, but I'm using it!) in my week. This week I've made it a point to work out/be active every day, be outside, meet up with friends for tacos, touch base with my sister and out of town friends, write, listen to more music, watch less Netflix...

But next week is LOOMING.

And guys? That makes me tired. Not so tired that I'm throwing in the towel- nope. I was way happier and more content this week than I've been in a while! (which is wonderful.)

I think the key may be to not get ahead of myself. To take it one day or week at a time, small snack sized bits and not overwhelming COSTCO sizes, ya know?  Also, to plan a few things to look forward to in the future. Time with friends, a class, maybe a trip (I want to trek out to San Fran again so very much!) 

So, that's been my week so far. Hope yours has been lovely.


The Same As You

My favorite place to be

Is sitting next to someone

It can be on the sofa in my living room

Across the table at a crowded coffee shop

Drinking wine on the porch 

Or walking through neighborhoods as the sun sets


My favorite thing is being honest and open

Tackling the hard things

The things that we were taught never to address

To hide

To tuck away and pretend are invisible


My favorite thing is when you discover

That the terrible things aren't as terrible as you once 

Were made to believe

And that the person across from you

Feels relief and confusion and hope 

The same as you





One Piece


Humans; we’re searching. For something, or someone. For a feeling; for a moment. A story.

A purpose, a calling, something that pulls at the strings of our heart and prompts the souls of our feet. Longing for adventure, the unknown… but also love and a feeling of home. A twisty journey for contentment, that amusingly surprises us when we discover that we always have more dreams, more wishes, more wants.


And its easy to let one adventure eclipse all the others.

To confuse one branch of excitement and pursuit with the ultimate goal. For many, for myself, its easy to let relationships or dating become that. 

There’s nothing wrong with dating. There’s nothing wrong with putting in effort and attention. Practice honestly makes perfect when it comes to dating. Small talk and jokes, flirtation, conversation, being at ease with a relative stranger… the more you do it, the more comfortable you become. 

And it can be thrilling. Meeting someone new, the unknown, the possibilities. Attraction, physical contact, catching someone’s eye.

But… dating isn't what makes me, ME— It can be funny- providing so many awkward stories to laugh at over drinks with friends. Dating can be heartbreaking, causing stomach aches and tears and an irrational fear that everyone is a liar— But when people ask what I do, or what I spend time thinking about and pursuing, I honestly don’t want the conversation to always turn to my love life. 

I am more than the pursuit of a boyfriend or husband, or whatever.

I have talents and passions, hobbies, interests and thoughts that weigh on my heart. But its so easy in the hubbub of finding someone to share life with, to lose yourself. 

I can easily admit I’ve done this. There are so many things in my life that I love and enjoy doing, but because the people and culture around me constantly barrage me with pressure to not be alone, I allow my emotions and thoughts to go full-steam in that direction. 


The very things that make me attractive to other human beings… suddenly fall to the wayside. 

Ya’ll, I love music. I love to discover new bands and songs, I love to listen to it, I love to play it. I’m a photographer, a designer and stylist. I want to style and photograph more books, hell, I want to write a book! I love people and good conversation. Being outside, cooking, traveling! I’m so seriously done with putting aside the things I love and need in my life in the quest for one piece of the puzzle. 






Hug the Blue Skies

When you are going to get coffee... and are in your joggers and a tank top, but your sister comes out dressed cute... that, my friends, is the moment for which you've stashed away that cute little romper. Done and done. 

I'm over-the-moon-dance with all the flowers-hug blue skies and sunshine- drink all the iced coffee-happy that spring has arrived. 

My Little Corner of the Web

This is my new favorite little perch. I plan on spending many hours here, daydreaming, surfing the internet, writing words, listening to music and drinking from my Harry Potter cup.

This is my new favorite little perch. I plan on spending many hours here, daydreaming, surfing the internet, writing words, listening to music and drinking from my Harry Potter cup.

In a texting conversation with a friend not too long ago, I found myself admitting that so far, this hasn't been my year. 

Being in my thirties, I realize how little I know, but I feel as though I should at least have some direction and purpose, that I should be striving towards something. A goal. A trajectory. 

Millennials are known to be a bit entitled. To view the world as their oyster- believing they should get paid to play video games, drink beer and try on pretty clothes... and being bratty when they have to do their time putting in 40+ hrs a week for someone else. I am not afraid of hard work. I am not unfamiliar with working for a company I don't admire or love. I know the feeling of waking up in the morning and wanting to cry at the thought of putting 8 hours in at a job where I can almost feel the life and joy being sucked out of me. 

I am under no impression that the world should pay me to eat brunch, drink mimosas and wear pretty clothes. Sure, there are those out there that make a living on that- more power to them. 

I don't mind work. But I'm chasing after a means with passion mixed in. 

Wracking my brain to try and figure out what I love, what makes me happy, what excites me... and how I can harness those desires, passions, talents and hobbies into a giver of joy. For myself, and for others. And if, along the way, it also offers monetary options, I would be over the moon. I love to write, I've always had the bashful thought that I'd love to write a book someday... on what? About what? Still thinking on that. That lead me coming to the very blatant revelation that I've neglected my blog for quite a while. 

Now, I realize I don't have a huge audience- but I think I potentially still have one or two readers... and I value all (two) of you. So I'm hoping to be seeing a lot more of you. (figuratively, because, this is a blog, and fairly one sided... in that you're reading things I write. Sooooo... very one sided. Unless you comment! That's always a lot of fun!)

So, for now, know that I'm exploring. I'm seeking out ideas and people and I'm digging into things. I'm discovering author's I admire, copying quotes down feverishly in my journal, listening to podcasts and making lists, trying to watch less Netflix and spend more time with music. Buying a ukulele and plotting the day I can get a piano in my house...

Thanks for sticking around this little space.... I'll be back soon. That's a promise. 




Afraid: A List

I am afraid. 

I am afraid of heights, and of spiders.

Of falling, being in claustrophobic places. 

I am afraid of tornadoes. 

The dentist.

I am afraid of large groups of people where I have to make small talk and try and fit in.

I am am afraid of dark basements.

I am afraid of touching raw meat.


I am afraid of losing people I love.

Afraid of speaking up- but even more afraid of not.

I fear judgement from people who assume they have life figured out- especially when my life is not their life.


I am afraid of being alone.

I am afraid of settling.

I am afraid of staying put, I am afraid to leave.


I am afraid to love, but I am more afraid to lose hope.


I’m afraid no one will ever be waiting for me at home.

I’m afraid I’ll never feel at home.


I’m afraid of being open and honest, because others are afraid of honesty.


I’m afraid of putting on a mask, or a face to please others.

Of telling only the happy stories.

I’m afraid of having to be someone I’m not. 

I’m afraid of other people lying to me.

Of people leaving.

Of people not giving me a chance.

Of feeling like I’m always the one left waiting.


I am afraid. 

But, strangely, I’m not afraid of being afraid.




On the Map

I am, a self proclaimed (and proven) nomad. Since moving out of my parent's home approximately 9.5 years ago, I have moved ten times. (More if you include time living abroad!) 

I easily find myself restless, dreaming of new places, scenes, cities to explore, a new room, a new space. Always feeling as though where I am at is just a touch from where I really want to be.

Today I was struck by the [simple] thought:

I am not looking for a geographical location.

I am looking for a person- for connection, and, ultimately, love. I am searching for my person. Once  found, I am confident a lot of my restlessness, feelings of being discontent will ease, regardless of my location on a map. 

Please don't read into this that I believe love will solve all of my issues- or that I have an idealistic idea of perfection in a relationship. Believe me, you don't manage to reach your thirties as a single person in the age of online dating apps and relationships, and believe in Prince Charming. (who, btw, is really creepy when you break it down. All the Disney princes are. But that's a soap box for another time.)

So I'm looking for my person. And I won't say that once I meet him I'll give up my wandering ways- I still want to see the world. To live in new places, explore and get lost... but I truly believe that the urgency to escape and start over, that some of that will fade away.

Maybe its a romantic notion, and you all are shaking your head at my naivete, but I'm clinging to this.

I have lost a lot of hope, and romance sails out the door in this current dating culture, so any dreams, any longings of a tiny bit of magic mixed with love? I'm holding them close.


The quiet, full of dark

Things you weren't supposed

To dream and feel

Time has shown

That it all seems

To fall apart

And yet this thing

A silly little word

Tucked behind the last pages


Unexpected, unassuming

Words into the night

Laughter and almost tears

Hope found a crack in

the sturdy wall

It streamed in like sunlight

But she did not arrive


She was followed closely by obstacles

(as always)

Life doesn't seem to know

How to occur

Without building some sort of character


On Choices

“Don't surrender all your joy for an idea you used to have about yourself that isn't true anymore.” -Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things


Its hard to let go of the past. Its hard to let go of the way you were raised and the culture in which you gained your footing. Hard to forget the person you were at one point. Strange to wave goodbye to the timid, self-doubting girl who severely questioned herself and all she did, while taking what everyone else did or said at face value. Complicated to have been hurt and made to feel invisible on so many occasions. 



To come out gasping but still kicking on the other side. To feel and hear and smell the fear that vulnerability allows, and to choose it anyway. 

Because, as my best friend and I discussed tonight, if you never open yourself up to the possibility of hurt, of being vulnerable, you never allow yourself the chance at happiness. 

Choice says I can stay where I am; and true, where I am may be a room I’ve walked with some regularity, its familiar, but its not without aches and pains. 

Or I can jump. 


I can say I’m sorry. I can unfriend someone. I can say what I’m thinking. I can admit to being wrong, admit to not feeling the same way as someone I grew up with expects me to. I can support people I love when the culture I was raised amongst makes them feel small and unwelcome. I can let go of years of being invisible and realize that the people who matter see me and choose me. 

A lot of times it feels as though we’re made to believe that life is this strict path we follow. Chasing callings and careers and trying to live up to someone else's expectations… but I think it comes down to choices. There are so many we could make. Good, bad, poor, wise, middle of the road. The truth is, the good ones wouldn’t come without making a few bad, and the middle of the road ones, while sometimes masquerading as safe, can often lead to an unwanted and drawn out detour.

I can choose which steps to take, I can choose how I take them. Who I take them with. I can choose the attitude in which I step out… I can hold desperately to the timid, insecure girl I once was… or I can embrace the confident, assured, loving woman I have become.