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Onto The Next

Tuesday, January 5, 2016

It's January 5th and I never got around to writing a New Year's post. But, I figure the 2015 #bestyearyet posts will be relevant until at least mid-February so we're good. Plus, I've written one every year I've had this blog so at this point it's basically a tradition and I feel weirdly obligated to write something. 

So, here we go...2015.

But first: I have a lot of thoughts. And I've been lost in mental ramblings in far too many showers (sorry, drought) lately that I think it's finally time to share. 

Truth is...a big part of me feels like this blog is over. I've been feeling this way for a while, thinking that maybe it's finally time to start a new chapter, a new project, and say goodbye to this little website. Tie a pretty bow on it and send it to internet heaven where it'll find comfort next to my three inappropriate/embarrassing AIM screen names, Oregon Trail high score (no dysentery!), and first MySpace default photo that I know is still floating out there in cyberspace waiting to haunt me when I suddenly decide to run for office. 

But real talk: is style blogging so 2011? When I first started this site, blogging was still this niche community. "Blogger Royalty" didn't exist yet and my favorite bloggers wore clothes they had actually bought themselves. People who didn't know about this cyber-world probably thought I was weird for posting outfits of myself. But honestly, I didn't care. I had discovered a world of new ideas, bloggers I admired, and a platform to truly express myself. And suddenly, in the midst of this personal discovery...blogging became a lot more mainstream and had its heyday, if you will. But, in my opinion, this heyday has since come and gone—replaced with Instagrams and Vines and Snapchats and a cultural desire for short form content with a few more filters and lot fewer words. And while I love photography and really do believe a picture is worth a thousand words...this makes me kind of sad.

But, that's not to say I ever blogged because I thought it was cool. I'm just saying that as the media landscape has shifted...so have my own tastes and interests. It's a shift that's pulling me in a few different directions. Towards photography and towards longer prose...neither of which feel quite right on a style blog named after coffee and clothes.

I'm wanting more from myself creatively...I'm just not sure what that "more" is yet. However, I do think this past year helped set a foundation for me to find out. 


In all honestly, 2015 was not the easiest. It was a year of growing up. I mean, I'm not 100% an adult since I still don't fully understand insurance premiums or know how much cell phone service costs sans family plan. But nevertheless, it was a big year for me. 

I moved into my own studio, I worked long nights and early mornings, I took my photography more seriously, I made good decisions that went south and bad decisions that turned into wonderful surprises, I allowed myself to embrace the unexpectedand net net...I kept my 2015 resolution.

All in all, I'm still undecided about what's next for this dear old blog. Or...what's next for me, rather. While I'm not the same doe-eyed undergrad who started this blog 5 years ago, a large part of me fears that in giving it up, I'll be giving up a part of myself. The part—the girl—who found solace writing blog posts late at night in her sorority closet (truth) and found an identity as The Caffeinated Closet.

Yes, the same girl who is trying to shop less and give up coffee for 2016.

Yup, that one. 

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Passing Through

Sunday, November 1, 2015

I spent last weekend sorting through my iPhoto library; reliving my travels. When I first went abroad, I had just bought my DSLR and—through sheer trial and error—was teaching myself how to use it by religiously documenting my trip. Luckily, the haphazard photos I collected over those six months later served a purpose. I came to depend on those albums—scrolling through them on an almost daily basis to cope with the unexpected (reverse) culture shock I felt coming back home.

Fast forward a few years and I'm back at my scrolling. But, what's interesting is that the shots I cherish the most now are not the ones you might expect (hint: they don't involve me in a psuedo-Euro-chic outfit posed in front of X monument). These days, I'm drawn to the photos that capture a seemingly ordinary moment in time. Featuring people I'll never see again and movement that can't be replicated, no matter how many times I retrace my steps.

And so, this little black & white photo series was born.

Comprised of old and new... and just passing through.

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Write Time

Monday, October 19, 2015

Lavender Shore by Melina Peterson
I often worry that if I stop blogging, I'll simply forget how to write. The longer I go not blogging, the more anxious I become about the thought of opening up a blank post and letting words, however silly or significant, transform themselves from jumbled html to coherent prose. I can only imagine the kind of anxiety professional writers must feel, which is why I don't think I could ever write for a living. I think the pressure to churn out creativity on command would ruin it for me. 

Since my last post on August 25th, I haven't attempted to draft anything new. However, there's been countless times I've gone off on mental tangents—usually while driving or cleaning my apartment— and thought "I should really blog about this." Yet, life continues to plug along at what feels like a weird combination of slow motion and hyper-speed, and other things have taken precedent. So, I've lost track of these ideas and left the words suspended in some of kind of limbo between pen and paper. (Or in this case...hand and keyboard?)

After uploading this shot from a weekend trip in Cambria, it took me a solid hour to work up the courage to even start typing. Instead, I lost myself in a daydream (that should really just be...a dream, since it's past 11pm on a Sunday)...staring into the sea of lavender and listening to my latest obsession on Spotify. In hopes of being somewhat-human on Monday morning, I tried to convince myself that 11:38pm on a Sunday night was not an ideal time to start a blog post. But, my irrational fear of forgetting how to write won. So...here we are. 

Now that I've probably lost 95% of the people that started this post, I don't know what to tell the loyal 5% still reading my jumbled Sunday night thoughts. I'm desperately trying to come up with something climactic to say after spending 3 wordy paragraphs writing about writing.

And it's turning into one of those moments. Kind of like the moment you first land a job. You're SO excited you finally have a job, until you realize...OH shit, I actually have to work now. 40 (or 60) hour weeks, 6 am wake-up calls, and 11pm bedtimes even when a tangential blog post is calling your name.
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