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"write hard and clear about what hurts." -ernest hemingway-

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"but i was not in love with you."  

i've been dreaming of making a book someday out of my writings and pairing them with drawings/sketches. this is an excerpt from an old poem of mine. one day at a time. 

mornings have been intense for me lately. when i’m completely honest with myself i’ve been feeling the weight of depression slowly creeping it’s way back in to all the nooks and crannies of my scattered mind. if you’ve ever struggled with even the slightest bit of depression then you know why mornings can turn into one of the days greatest battles. getting up. trying to move under the weight of it all. i’ve found myself waking up earlier and earlier and yet staying in bed later and later. my mind has too many things to fight through before i can face the day. part of me finds a strange solace in this fight as well. the ability to let myself sit with all of my own enemies, to talk to them. to talk to myself. the quiet calm of morning is such a needed balance to the fury of my own mind and soul. i used to get crushed by the silence of morning and i couldn’t quite figure out how to move through all the overwhelming weight of my thoughts, but now i find it gives me the time to make peace with myself before trying to get up and be love to those around me. intense as it may be, it is a part of my process right now. and that is ok. just some things i’m thinking as i begin to move and lift myself into another beautiful day of living.

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this corner isn't as good for people watching as the one i had in west hollywood. that spot was my favorite. god, i spent so many evenings there. smoking cloves and drinking coffee. listening to songs that destroyed me a little bit. and i'd just watch people for hours. and i'd write. back then i had words i didn't know where to put and they were endless. and effortless. they just spewed and spewed. and i wonder if it was partly because i was feeling so many new things at the time. growing up. becoming myself. i haven't had that many words in a long time. but i feel them slowly coming back. they are unwritten songs. they are scribbled lines and splattered thoughts. they are passing strangers and cold vanilla lattes. they are warm summer nights before fall comes. they are this and that and everything and nothing all at once. they are all the things i haven't felt for the past two years. 

what is it about feeling like we don't know what we're doing with our lives that somehow makes us revert back to being a child? all of the sudden i'm 33 years old and i can't stop crying. i'd give anything for someone to just tell me what to do; how to fix all the things i've somehow dismantled in my life. i can't handle the bills or rent or feeding myself or trying to figure out what kind of job to get or what true happiness is or how to just get through a day without wanting to run away and hide. i think it's unfair that we get thrown into this whole life thing having never done it before. i hope reincarnation actually exists so that the next time i do this thing i'm not flailing around like an idiot.

i came across this old photo of myself recently from when i first moved to LA and it sent me into major nostalgia mode.. i was somewhere around 23-24 and i had no idea what i was doing in life. i was fighting serious depression (which is so deeply seen in my eyes in this photo). everything was heavy. i wasn’t quite bold yet. i started smoking cigarettes because it forced me to breathe deeply, to sit and be still in it all for a moment.. i couldn’t eat. i spent most of my evenings drinking coffee by myself at the coffee shop around the corner from my apt and writing in my journal while i listened to music and wished i knew what any of it meant. life felt too big and i felt too small.  now, almost 10 years later i see that i wasn’t too small; that i just needed to get kicked around a little by life in order to see that all that strength and joy and boldness i so badly wanted at the time was in me all along. it’s funny how we conjure up turmoil sometimes to avoid being brave and doing the things we know we were created to do. i’d like to say i’ve outgrown that, but i don’t think i ever will entirely. the difference now is that i know it is not too big for me to overcome. that i am capable. that i am not defined by my circumstance or feelings. that i am ENOUGH. i’m lying here in bed looking at this and thinking all these thoughts.. thinking how this picture just so captures where i was in life and how ironic it is that i’m driving in it cuz i felt so lost and i’m lying here thinking, ‘oh how far i’ve come since then.. how much more i love myself now than i did back then..’ life is strange and beautiful.

i came across this old photo of myself recently from when i first moved to LA and it sent me into major nostalgia mode.. i was somewhere around 23-24 and i had no idea what i was doing in life. i was fighting serious depression (which is so deeply seen in my eyes in this photo). everything was heavy. i wasn’t quite bold yet. i started smoking cigarettes because it forced me to breathe deeply, to sit and be still in it all for a moment.. i couldn’t eat. i spent most of my evenings drinking coffee by myself at the coffee shop around the corner from my apt and writing in my journal while i listened to music and wished i knew what any of it meant. life felt too big and i felt too small. 

now, almost 10 years later i see that i wasn’t too small; that i just needed to get kicked around a little by life in order to see that all that strength and joy and boldness i so badly wanted at the time was in me all along. it’s funny how we conjure up turmoil sometimes to avoid being brave and doing the things we know we were created to do. i’d like to say i’ve outgrown that, but i don’t think i ever will entirely. the difference now is that i know it is not too big for me to overcome. that i am capable. that i am not defined by my circumstance or feelings. that i am ENOUGH. i’m lying here in bed looking at this and thinking all these thoughts.. thinking how this picture just so captures where i was in life and how ironic it is that i’m driving in it cuz i felt so lost and i’m lying here thinking, ‘oh how far i’ve come since then.. how much more i love myself now than i did back then..’ life is strange and beautiful.

the other night i listened to a bunch of old songs i'd written. they were songs i wrote when i first to moved to LA and i was all twisty and dark inside. i didn't really know how to play the guitar at all back then and most of the things i wrote were poems and prose that i then put into these weirdly constructed songs. back then i didn't really think much about it. about what i was doing or what i was singing or what the words meant. i just knew if i didn't do it i might die inside. i was depressed. i was unhealthy. i was broken and mostly always falling apart. but damn,  being that busted really made for some good writing. as i listened to these old pieces of myself i realized that i don't really know how to write from the place i am in now. a place of joy and contentment. happiness. health. wholeness. i want to be shattered by those feelings just as much as i was shattered by the bad ones. i want to write just as joyously as i was able to write about my pain. maybe it's easier to sing about the hard things though, because then you don't necessarily have to talk about them. talking about happiness isn't as difficult. and i guess if that's true then i'm ok getting out all of the hard stuff this way. 

have you ever held someone’s hand and felt your soul slowly slip and melt right through their fingertips until, eventually, you forgot you even had a hand in the first place? the next time it happens, remember it. remember it. you told me that all the time. ‘remember it.’ this. now. and i did so much remembering that i forgot where to even put my thoughts, where to let all those flickering moments land.. and eventually i just forgot. but we loved each other. i remember that. i remember all the twisting, bursting, desirous ways your heart and mine danced with one another.. like sweet melodies getting lost in summer.

i wrote the above some years ago. i found it in an email that a friend sent to me and now that's the only place it exists because i just accidentally deleted my entire tumblr account in which all of the things i've written over the past 10 years used to exist. i feel like a small part of my soul has been lost. i know that sounds extremely dramatic, but if you're a writer of any kind you'll understand why this is such a huge loss. i wrote some of the most important things in my life experience thus far on that site. my great loves. my great losses. moments where i realized some part of who i was and changed forever. the feeling that came with that realization. it's just all gone now.. floating somewhere in oblivion and i guess all i can do now is let go.  letting go is so hard.. 

it's been some time since i've released anything, mostly because life happens but also because i wanted to take some time to let myself process it all and try out new ways of making it. since my last two releases with mush records (solo album 'would you stay', and my first ever electronic collaboration album 'heart beats') i've fallen in love, grieved the death of a dear friend, spent a month in the hospital with health complications, traveled more than i ever have, and been unemployed. it turns out though, that all of these things were necessary for me to really create something from a place i never knew i needed to, or could. i wrote this EP with a good friend of mine, katrina stone, in the six months that i was unemployed this last summer. a couple of the songs on this EP are extremely personal and raw, while others are from a new place of wonder and appreciation for life in ways i never saw before. i hope you get to see a new side of me, while still recognizing that the core of me hasn't changed. 

download and stream the entire EP HERE