Seattle felt like moving backwards. The weather, the neighborhood streets lined with craftsman homes -- they're basically like Oregon. Like the first part of my life, where I grew up. Like those middle two years, in Portland.
When I moved to the East Coast, I felt this colossal opening-up. There were all these experiences I'd never had before: oysters, fireflies, waist-high snow, calling liquor stores "the packie." It silenced the nagging voice I had inside my head that I was missing out on the adventure of my twenties. Now my day-to-day was full of strangeness. My life was filling up with stories, just by being there. Just by paying attention.
The familiarity of Seattle made me feel settled here, in a way I wasn't sure I wanted.
But the other night, I surprised myself. This Taylor Swift song was playing in my head phones, the rain had slowed and the skyline was lighting up across the lake. I was hit with a feeling of unfolding. It was a rush of newness, like falling in love, as a whole new future took shape.
weekend reading | Drawing Girl's Stories
- Alison Bechdel, on the way we wonder about those short-lived loves.
- A Really Bad Month
- just add ponytail! toys for girls.
- p.s. Alison Bechdel (who won the MacArthur genius grant this year!) famously created the Bechdel test, which asks if movies have 1. at least two female characters | 2. who talk to eachother | 3. about something other than a man. Here's a crazy clip of all the movies that fail this test.