fluffy cloud, golden sun days.

the weather here in south texas has been consistently beautiful and i-feel-so-alive-and-inspired-ish.
we have had the kitchen windows and screen door open almost every day the last few weeks,
letting the cool breeze flow through the house, filling my soul with hopes and dreams.
the sun has shone gloriously gold every morning, and in the evening it burns orange and pink
behind the trees. the clouds have been fluffy and white against the stark blue sky, and sometimes
they look like brush strokes painted in the evening blue. as much as i adore rainy days, i think i
love these blue sky, fluffy cloud, golden sun days just a little bit more.
how's the weather where you are, friend?
gracie.

new in town

my name is candace and i like the color blue. i'm crazy about keds and cappuccino ice-cream and san pellegrino. i once ate this thing called nutella and it was instant love (sorry jocee). yes, my life revolves mostly around food. i have this obsession with thrift store sweaters and sock hats. i've always wanted a pet chameleon. or three. and i wear cardigans because of mr. rogers. i have this fear of heights and i love using disposable cameras. i watch america's funniest home videos when i'm bored and i listen to p!nk on the weekends. this is me. this is your new neighbor. i love this new house and i love the girls i'm going to boldly call my sisters. but you see, i'm not perfect or even remotely original. i make mistakes and i mess up big time sometimes. but my purpose in life is to not be perfect or beautiful or famous or funny. my mission is to be who i am. to not give a care to how the world sees me. because in the end, it won't matter how i looked throughout the years. what will be remembered are the things that i did with my life. so that's what my goal is as a new neighbor. to make an impact simply by being me.

xo,

candace.

to be the first.

i think i realised it a day or so after daddy brought it home from the library. i am the first person to check out this book. there were clues that backed my conclusion, subtle notes that several other people wouldn't think twice about. the smoothness of the cover, the blank checkout log except for my due date, the crisp, sharp edges of each page, and the black ink that showed evidence of this author's masterpiece; prominent and yet just right.

so as i curled up under the covers at a time where the lights were supposed to be out and i was supposed to be asleep, i realised i was the first one to throughly caress each page with my fingertips. to absentmindedly hold down either page and cause a crackling sound in the spine. to fold down the corners of pages where words resonated with me even deeper than the trenches of the ocean.

i am a voracious reader. i have lived so many lives through so many people. seen the most glorious things and felt the most wrenching sobs. though my body is young and my heart is ready to take on the world, my soul carries the feelings of others who have become more than just fictional characters in the many books i have read. the deep, earthy smell of each page is my bread, the vivid descriptions of times gone by are my water.

so here i am, reading the dangers of proximal alphabets by kathleen alcott. i nestle under the covers, alternating positions (on my back, stomach, or side) and promising myself just one more chapter in the wee hours of the morning. and i feel special, because i am the first to do so. 

hi, my name is jocelyn, and i really really really hate nutella. i guess you could say i founded/created this blog, but it wouldn't be what it is without the help of my six wonderful friends. i live for cupcakes and white chocolate, and i have this crazy ability to distinguish a brit from an american without either one of them talking. i write really long blog posts and i refuse to eat waffles without sausage and warm syrup. nice to meet you, i love you. :)

xx, jocee. 

The Color of Rain

About two months ago I submitted a piece of my writing to Anthropologie for their magazine, unfortunately they didn't use it but I thought that some of y'all might enjoy it so I'm sharing it with you.

original photo // typography by jocee

The Color Of Rain 

  I’m an odd sort of person, the kind who associates nostalgic memories with a color in a very specific mental rainbow. My favorite color is the color of rain. In my mind it’s kind of a musty aquamarine, a variation of color somewhere between sea foam and grey, the “color”, if you will, washes of over me with a cozy feeling that urges me to materialize a crackling fireplace and a collection of E.E. Cummings poetry with a nice cup of vanilla cocoa right before my eyes.

  Rain is the kind of thing that’s an ironic combination of refreshment, the cool kind of sprinkle that sits on tops of your head and weaves itself between each strand of your hair before making its way down your forehead and over your shoulders causing your overall body temperature to drop. While being cozy and warm at the same time. For some reason that I may never understand I've always associated rain with home, not a brick and cement building kind of home but the kind of home that is also a synonym for security and safety, being tucked in before bed on Christmas eve with promises of Santa or always having someone to hug you when you kiss you when you cry.

  I believe that the first people who ever felt rain felt that lump in their chest that we’re all so familiar with and they smiled. They may not have understood its origins and at first it may have frightened them, but I think that they soon embraced it. Overcast days with the pitter patter of fresh water from heaven will always be my favorite kind of day. I will always dance in the rain, and play in the water spout, jump in puddles, and curl up next to the window. May the sound of distant thunder and the color of rain always be the rhythm that my heart synchronizes itself to as I sleep.

What's your favorite color?
xx,
bleah.

spring again

I don't have a favourite season. I always find myself looking forward to the freshness of spring, the laziness of summer, the coziness of autumn, & the silent beauty of winter. Each has a most lovely, wholehearted embrace.

Though, every year, in the last days of January, or perhaps, those in mid-February, I start feeling the tightness of winter's embrace all too keenly. It makes me restless. I start longing for young buds of green, rosy tinges  amid the brown, lilac breezes, & even the sight of dandelion seeds carried by the wind. I want to break free of the clutch of winter, grown all too stiff & cold, & run to spring again.

Oh, how glorious it will be to feel the warm air on my face! To hear the lovely chirping bird melodies & experience all the lovely sights & aromas. Hurry up, spring. Let us go adventuring together again...

I'm Eve -- a dreamer, a reader, a writer, a photographer, & a blogger. I love feeling the strong & adventurous pull of the ocean, & listening to my rather large collection of movie soundtracks. I'm often awkward & better express myself in writing. I have an unfinished six year-old diary & books on my shelf that haven't been read yet. My ideal vacation would be a two week long hike across the mountain ranges of New Zealand. It's nice to meet you, friend. :)

we're all just people

We’re all just people trying to find our voice. Trying to be liked, trying to share our talents, trying to find our talents. Some of us are bigger, but bigger isn’t always better, remember that.

We’re all different, with different talents, different callings, different tastes, styles, hobbies, quirks. Our style is unique, our aspirations are mutual. How can we be so different, how can be so same?

We’re all just people, searching for our place in the world. We’re all important, we’re all needed, we’re all loved. No one is more worthy than the other. There are no mistakes, there is no empty space. Don’t ever forget, don’t ever give up. You are here, you are loved.

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hey, there, I’m abby. I have messy hair, a messy room, and messy handwriting. my brain has too many words, and my mouth never likes to speak them. I’d love to be your friend.