Oh God, I Think I Miss Portland


It’s kind of a funny story how I ended up spending four years in a city I’ve never been to before moving into the worst and cheapest student housing option available. (It was quite literally a crack den.) Basically, my first choice school slapped me with a rejection letter so the university that offered me the most money in scholarships won the battle for my acceptance. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t a funny story, not at all. I probably would have described it as tragic in the moment, but it was a practical decision that led me to this city with a reputation for being weird and Portland, Oregon, is weird, but in the best way.

On more than one occasion I’ve admitted to loving Portland in real, verbal conversations. Portland is like that weird 75% vegan friend, always hopped up on coffee (among other things), who you aren’t sure about in the beginning, but slowly you come to learn that they’re dependable even if they aren’t 100% trustworthy. That friend who’s moody most days and unpredictable, with fantastic taste in music and access to independent cinema, that teaches you about art and life.

We always say that people and circumstances help shape who we become, often forgetting that our environment is just as great of a factor. I’m different from who I was five years ago and living in Portland is a big part of that.

I miss you, Portland. God help me, I do.

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Lazy Sunday Meet Nostalgia

Time is unforgiving. It goes by, never slows, never waits for anyone or anything. Time forces us to pick up and move, to adapt and change so we evolve along with it. Life is an inevitable process better embraced than fought. Sometimes before we can even begin to look forward, it’s a comfort to look back.

I don’t know where I’m going or what’s going to happen in the future. We can only guess about what’s in front of us, but we can always look back on where we’ve been. I remember when my biggest dream was to leave home, literally escape the island. I always knew there was so much more out there just waiting to be found and somehow, I’ve gotten lost in it all. Lost in the very best sense of the word. Amazed. Consumed. And I love every second of living.

Oh, lazy Sundays. Hello, Nostalgia.


 There are few things I hate more than riding airplanes. The near-suffocating feeling of being confined for an extended period of time, the odd smells that linger, every time the stranger next to me shifts and their arm grazes mine. The hours to kill. The finality of leaving. And the people I’m leaving behind.

Portland, OR 

The view out the window of my dorm freshman year. Prime real estate.

George, WA

>> Sasquatch 2011


AKA “Mecca of the Hipsters”

The Head and the Heart
“Rivers and roads, rivers and roads, rivers ’til I reach you…”

9 Sasquatch2

Wonder Woman. Unafraid to dance on her own.

Early mornings and a long way from home.

Sedona, AZ // Grand Canyon – Summer 2011

One of the best things about Sedona, other than catching some sun by a little creek with a good book, was all the surrounding rock formations that serve as a playground for the imagination. It’s always so interesting how we automatically assign meaning and interpretations to things. When I first saw the “Modonna and Child” I honestly thought “singing dinosaur hand puppet.”

Northern California 

San Francisco, CA

>> City of Cool Bridges, Buildings & Street Art

The clouds over SF move by so quickly. I’m sure there’s a metaphor for life in there somewhere…

I might not know what my exact future looks like, but if it resembles my past in the slightest, it can’t be all that horrible. If being lost in what the world has to offer can be this beautiful, why would anyone want to be found?

Thoughts? Comment, like or tweet me.