August: Week 1
   Could Be You | Allah-Las
   Someone Disappeared | The Everywheres
   Tristesse | Foreign/National
   Out Of Touch | Alex Calder
   Hanging from the Ceiling | The Velveteins
   Turn Into | Jay Som
   Spacious | Summerays
   Japan Window | The Holidays
   Another Day | James Bishop
   Hesitate | Hala
   Shake Me Away | Pajama People
   Scribbles | Acid Ghost
   Are You Coming Home | Rainy Day Women

I hope you all enjoyed those iPhone wallpapers. I will most likely post a few more late in August or (cringe) in early September. Again, I'm in a bit of a rush today, so I won't write much. I did another shoot yesterday and I am so incredibly pleased with how all of my photos turned out. I found that when I work freely and spontaneously I am always much more content with the product that results. The rest of these will be up soon.

It was so hard to write out "August: Week 1" at the top of that list. I cannot wrap my mind around how fast time disappears. This summer, I've been much busier than I had ever anticipated. Most of the time it feels like a dream, as I'm doing more and more of what I love and inching closer towards reaching my goals, but sometimes I do miss having extra time to waste. I miss laying around in the grass for hours and trying to avoid the sun's too powerful rays, wandering around the neighborhood aimlessly, and soaking in the rain and quickly running for shelter after a loud thunder clap.

Okay, so maybe I will take some time to write a bit, because I haven't done that in a while and I miss it. And I'm sure you miss my near-run-ons too.

Since we're on the topic of quickly fading time and the warmest days of the year, I guess I'll write about why those three months in the year that have everyone either swooning or groaning over are so dear to my childish heart and overactive brain. It's not as simple as my hatred of cold weather and the often tacky sadness associated with it. There's just something about the feeling of the wind beating upon clothes, tires balancing atop the hot, faded black pavement, hair dancing upon cheeks and occasionally attaching itself to smiling mouths, the bright yellow beams of sunlight grazing skin and blinding wide-open eyes before abruptly hiding behind the juicy green leaves that crowd trees and shade lush forests whilst driving. There's something about revisiting childish dreams, believing that it's all possible, that everything can get done in the silly constraints of three months. About the joy something as dumb as sticky, dripping, sugar-loaded, artificially-flavored, frozen water on a stick can bring. About the way finding any body of water good enough to dip feet into appears to be an always successful adventure. About the secret engulfing feeling of freedom, of escaping responsibilities, that clouds minds and allows for more spontaneity. About those crazy thunderstorms that may be frightening, but at the same time, may be a strangely comforting lullaby or a better show than what is flashing across the abused television screen. About the high hopes for it to all go as planned and the last minute ideas that result from the plan being destroyed--the ones that are always better than the initial ideas, anyway. About laying sprawled out in the grass, in the sand, in the dirt, on the pavement and exchanging glances with the tree tops and clouds, the wind using its fingers to toss leaves this way and that way and to shape clouds into new creations. About the tinted pink skies--the ones that create a haze all around as the sun sets and the crispness of the night starts to creep into the air. About the way those songs all of a sudden carry a familiar feeling, stronger than they would normally and how easily new feelings tag along to new and old songs alike. About picking flowers that grow wild on the side of the old road leading to some great destination, the weeds that seem even more beautiful than those well-manicured flowers. About the rainbow colored umbrellas that dot the beach and save pale ones, like me, from the dangerous rays of the sun. About the chilling waves crashing at the point where they meet the land. About the way the city is even more alive, softer, happier, stuffier. There's even something special about those sticky, slow, humid, no-air-to-breathe days that make you appreciate the milder ones (and the air conditioning) even more.

The thing about summer is, even though it rarely even grazes the majority of my poorly manufactured expectations, it is never disappointing. All of the everyday things I do through the sunny days that may seem ordinary near the close of three months, they make me ridiculously happy. And I don't think anything else has ever come close. Because, even though I don't accomplish everything, even though things still go wrong (a lot), and even though I expect more, I always think about the little things that make me smile--the things that make summer, summer--and all those things I didn't do, all those disappointments, they melt away with the last of the sun's rays, as they retire for the night. Right as the world is the most perfect shade of peach.

Hopefully that's what these photos make you understand or feel. Go enjoy that playlist now; there are songs from a lot of my favorites this week. Maybe make some new memories with it. Appreciate summer a bit more and maybe I'll try to understand the beauty of the next approaching season. But I'm pretty stubborn, so it probably won't work. xx

P.S. I've yet to write about seeing Whitney with Jimmy Whispers and Michael Rault in concert, so come back next week for that. Also, it's not a promise, but I've got another diy post in my head, so maybe come back for that too.

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