Finding inspiration in the smallest things. I lied in bed with my Christmas lights on while reading a really great feminist novel. Sometimes I get so dizzy with ideas and other times I feel like my entire world is slowly closing. It scares me how distracted I can allow myself to get. I fill my mind with thoughts of boys who break my heart, friends who I can't express any kind of emotion to, and way to hide what I'm really feeling and what I really want to do. As soon as I find it in me to read a great essay, or a novel, or a short story, I find some kind of peace again. Pieces of me have fallen into everything I've ever created. Sometimes I'm terrified that I'll lose my ability to remember that when I really need to.

The love I have for reading, writing, putting my ideas into action, sharing my art with others, explaining my art to others, having a conversation with a stranger, discovering new music, listening to old music, taking photos, painting, traveling, and simply existing amongst so many really wonderful human beings surpasses my love for any single person. Sometimes my appreciation tangles me and leaves me stuck in one place. I just have to promise myself not to get so caught up next time.