THE BLOG

Interesting is better than good. Before we get ahead of ourselves, know that I don't mean this in an all-encompassing sense. If I'm looking to make a friend, I wouldn't seek out someone who hits me just because they are fabulously well read. However, it has occurred to me that if parts of my everyday life are made interesting by a sudden turn of events, I tend to be happier than if those same parts of my day had just been "good". If I can honestly say that an experience would

I left the book I've been reading on my desk before I drove out. This shouldn't be important to me, and it's not really, but it's something I can focus on. The book is a collection of folklore distilled into short stories by contemporary Indigenous writers. There are twenty-six stories in total; when I left it, I was in the middle of one that referred to the first human life in what is now Western America as The People , and the colonizers who destroyed their homes and killed

Cultural unity is one thing, but the complete over-saturation of modern American culture by "trendiness" feels more like a plaster mold for us to lay down in and stand up changed. Overnight, we can become the preppy, old-money clean girl of our dreams, as if this hyper-niche person has always secretly been inside of us and has finally been allowed to step out through a pack of multicolor claw clips from Amazon. But of course, this never lasts. All at once you can change agai

Amongst the charcuterie of botox and "songwriters" and data analysts and chicks your roommate wants you to go out with that make up the Los Angeles dating scene, I'm sure there have to be some stories of decent interactions. Maybe they got you flowers, maybe they paid for dinner, maybe they cancelled and you got to stay home and finish Arcane. I'm sure some have met their person listening to Mazzy Star in Amoeba on Hollywood Blv or keeled over in the gutter outside Rocco's on

Only in song can you and five thousand other people speak together, the same words at the same time, meaning basically the same thing and se

I used to feel incredibly committed to editing anything I created, spending sleepless nights changing guitar parts or adding detail to a painting that probably only one or two people were ever going to see. I was hardworking, sure, but for what? I hardly ever got to a point where I was really happy with what I had made. Usually, there was just a point where I would fall asleep at the counter. Looking back on it, I think I was more obsessive than diligent. This is why I pose