to my pre-quarantine self

dear march me,

the first thing to realize is that this will be far more complicated, far more emotionally draining than you ever imagined. it will be hard, and it will last so much longer than you imagined. your sophomore year spent on campus is over. your biggest performances for the spring will be cancelled. and at first, all this will somehow seem so small, so unimportant.

you will make a semblance of normal for yourself, spending countless hours outside, planning your garden, doing schoolwork, reading and writing more than you ever have. the healing you began to feel at the beginning of this month will be stunted. things will hurt you. things that will happen in the midst of a world that’s seemingly going insane. but your growth, your healing, will not be stopped. you will push forward, slow as it may be.

i know your hopes of living so passionately this spring are disappearing before your eyes. i know that much of the end of this month is going to be spent crying, worrying about the people you care about, spending too much time by yourself. and don’t think that it’ll stop. tears will still come, but the feeling, the emotion- it isn’t bad. it isn’t bad, and you can’t be ashamed of it.

reunions will come- small, simple reunions that will be so quiet and brief, but that will mean the world to you. you will see the one you love, even after everything, you’ll see your friends, your cousins, people you’ve spent almost your entire life with. it will be unlike anything you’ve ever had. and those small moments- already i can see them becoming something big.

you are longing to live- to live in the boundless passion that’s still inside of you. for the next two months, that desire, that need will only become more violent. but you will find small ways to build your life. and there are incredible moments to look forward to. this summer will be spent living- no matter how small and constrained things may feel.

know this. there are people that you’re worried about right now. things will never be simple or resolved with them. but they’re okay, and you’ll see them eventually. keep loving them. these people have also begun to realize the importance of freedom, of being impulsive sometimes and chasing the beauty you don’t realize you’ll miss until it’s gone. this connection you long for- i can see it coming.

things are scary. but if there’s one thing to learn about yourself, it is this- you are resilient. this isn’t the first time things have collapsed in front of your eyes and it won’t be the last. over and over, you’ve survived, and you’ve come back with the same passion, the same love, and a new knowledge of exactly what you’re capable.

so this is me, two months later, and things are hardly normal, but they are okay. this world will shock you over and over with it’s beauty, even now. you’ll find your moments, and the hope you have to build a life of your own? it’ll never leave.

live in beauty, as you always have. think of what’s coming after this. love your people until you can hold them again. know that you are ever changing, you are resilient, and you are so much more capable than you know.

all is never lost. and there is hope, even now.

may moments (+lit collection #3)

hello there, lovelies. consistency is not my strong point when it comes to blogging. it’s been two weeks since i last posted, but i’m okay with that because i’ve still been productive in other areas.

may, when flowers become so profuse in the fields where i dance, when columbine blooms violently across graves. when the sunset becomes wonderfully golden, not sulky red and pink, but golden as it shines on my raptured face.

-g.m. (5/1/2020)

i’ve done quite a bit of personal writing in the past week, in addition to accumulating a nice collection of lit. over the past week, i wrapped up my spring semester college classes (doing both final projects the day they were due), and planted my garden. this weekend was well over 80 degrees for me, so i took a walk down to the river near where i live.

my state begins reopening friday, but school was officially moved to online for the rest of the year. i start new summer classes in about two weeks, and then wrap up my high school classes the next week. hopefully things will be getting back to some semblance of order and normality soon.

on to the lit collection…

the wasteland, t.s. eliot
-“tulips” by sylvia plath
-“mad girl’s love song” by sylvia plath

my own personal writing took off a bit this past couple days, so here’s a little tidbit i wrote last week.

contradictions: tracking poems, xxviii, adrienne rich
-“letter to the past after long silence,” sarah murphy

i’ll hopefully be posting the rest of the pieces i discovered in the next couple days. i hope all of you are doing well, loves. i hope you’re finding what you need inside of yourself, letting people love you as much as you love them.

irrepressible beauty

tonight my vision was obscured by the vivid glare of the sun as i danced in a field of my childhood. ever since i was six or seven, this field has been a place i’ve gone to to let my feelings out. when i was little, i would play tag there with one of my friends, and i’ve watched the sunset there obsessively, especially in the spring.

today was the first time i’ve been able to go there this spring. and it was even more beautiful than i remembered.

tonight i drove down one of the backroads near my house with the windows down, singing my favorite songs. i had the opportunity to visit the grave of a friend, as well as another cemetery, where phlox and candytuft were blooming in profusion.

when i got home, i laid in the grass and watched as the the sky turned into a violet haze.

i’m drunk on the beauty of this life, even now. i’m drunk on love, and how it makes us endlessly foolish. on how the sky never looks the same in this place i love. the way i’m crying, thinking about the beautiful things this world has to offer, the beautiful things i’ve known and seen, even after everything.

sometimes i forget how to live, but not today. not right now.

i have hope. hope that things will become free again. that i will live a life i love, that the universe will fall into place exactly the way we need it.

i wish you a life of beauty, loves. i wish you a life of boundless, irrepressible hope.

even in our worst moments.

spring snippets

happy saturday, lovelies. today i have some snippets from my journal and a story i’ve been working on recently, as well as some pictures i’ve been able to capture. spring is vivid here in my hometown, so i thought i’d share some of the beauty that’s been materializing around me.

#1: untitled- c&n’s story


#2: journal entries

3.26.2020- thursday
3.28.2020- saturday
3.29.2020- sunday

#3: photography

i hope spring is beautiful where each of you are, and is coming to bring healing, hope, and comfort to your hearts. happy easter weekend, loves.