Prologue
There is something serendipitous about June this year. It all came together within the last few hours, the click of a six month hallmark.
All I ever talk about is the transient passing of time, of entropy, of my own panic then submission to the beauty of it all. My musings for June are no different; with genuine shock and honest horror June reminds me - and everyone else - that we are halfway through this year. Its only now that I’m feeling settled in my promises to myself from January. And its only now that I feel a bit of the lovely weight of change.
It’s hilarious to me, June’s parallels to January are so blatant I almost wonder if in my natural path towards symmetry and full circle moments, I’ve subconsciously orchestrated these conditions of reflection.
Action
I’m not drawn to the city this year. This summer is for dirt, grass, air and silence, for the greater acts at play.
The first of June I wake up in an empty apartment, am shuttled to the mountains and chasing a waterfall, exactly how I hoped to bring in the warm weather. Throughout the day we gather our friends like sacred jewels, its a long day, I love long days.
All my heaviness from May left in the forest.
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June is a scream at the top of my lungs reminder that I don’t mind being that person - so yes, lets take pictures together in our cute outfits that we definitely put thought and effort into, to commemorate this moment, these memories, our time, our youth - because I love you, and no, its not embarrassing, it never was.
Someday it will be all I have; my greed is unmatched.
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My character is spat back to me through the song of a nightjar. It hits my ears wrong, choppy and shrill, though I think that was the intention.
Dear sweet creature of twilight, my colourblind friend, when did you last see day? I’ve been in the sun for a while now, tanned beyond your eyes. Your melodies sing darkness with my name, I’m made as a mirage in your moonlight, though the shadows of that grove hasn’t held my spirit for a while now. If it ever did.
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Conversations and critiques on art, media, design, culture - the blandness and the beauty. Releasing pressure-filled thought from the echo chamber of my skull and with voices that are not just mine. The call I’ve heard before but the response is different lately - taken pragmatically, egoless and keen, simply in the realm of interest, a dance of knowledge.
I can map my desire back to January, and January back to most of my life.
Now I can say that the wings of a butterfly work tirelessly - six months later I’ve noticed myself sailing in its winds.
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Maybe its the summer or maybe its my not-so-newfound attitude, but my week at home felt bigger than just seven days. The first time from the last two years (probably longer), I felt a dutiful call towards home, even a longing to stay. Its in the time I spent with my parents, the molds of my being, I feel something?
It’s complicated as it always seems to be, to understand myself in the constraints of language.
One evening I invite my mom to take a bite out of my world, in the form of an ice cream field trip. She mentions that we already have ice cream at home, in another life that would have bothered me but that day I sing to her that it doesn’t matter and she laughs. The drive is around 30 mins.
I feel light and heavy with her in the passenger seat, her eyes are closed, beyond her the sky is only orange. I don’t think its a coincidence that the sunset that day was the best I’ve witnessed this year.
Together we marvel at the little things. She takes more pictures than I do and I see aspects of my nature that belonged to her first. On the ride home, she understands why it didn’t matter that we had ice cream at home, and I, the desire to capture it all.
Epilogue
If I’m logging change then I feel it finally.
Which makes me wonder when I’ll grow into them, whats buried within me, and if it will surprise me, horns or wings. Right now I don’t know which I’d prefer.
June Favourites
June 1 - I use the month’s turnover to flip myself anew, the hike hammered in my drive to feel full in my body again.
The banana bread Cliff bar I picked up from an unknown source is so delicious and elusive
Brunch on a rainy patio, the food is delicious but the company tastes ever better.
A distant friend on their way out is not as distant as I think - surprises me with frightening accuracy chanting my fears back to me, I’m aware, I’m grateful to be read so easily.
My mom leaves a bowl of mango slices on the counter for me everyday I’m home.
Dinner to drinks to second dinner. My friends and I dress up for an evening together and cheer about our late night.
A raccoon running along the sidewalk.
A matcha date with a lover and some sun. I fill her in on the happenings in my life, grateful to speak for the first time and letting go with every word.
Despite my incredulous anxiety I muster up a cloak of pseudo-confidence for a room of strangers. Muscle memory at work again.
Clouds in Ontario are different.
We finished a box of tiramisu Oreo Thins in about three days, groan and giggle about our gleeful guilt.
Spontaneous mid-workday hangout and buying birthday cards.
Working together with my roommate, the kitchen is small but we made it our studio, wringing in summer with smiles and friendship.
Practicing kindness where I feel sour.
Basement culture.
My friend who always elaborates.
Tattooing again, grateful for incredibly easy going friends.
Slow doses of creative energy
An art gallery opening and inspiration.
A backyard bonfire, my jacket still smells a bit like smoke and I love it.
A Summer Solstice celebration.
My friends lounge in my room while I scroll on my laptop. They touch everything in sight.
Flash storms in Seattle.
A movie with hometown friends.
Time with my parents, trying to be more active in those relationships despite the worry.
Aimless at a cafe, conversations that energize me, bubbles.
More than the festival itself, the time together in between. Normalcy and togetherness.
A sleepover.
Back Road Coffee Roasters and some time with my journal.
My family has dinner together at the table. Wow.
Summer in Toronto, something I haven’t experienced in years though it used to be my norm, I feel change in new ways everyday but this one hurt a deal more than I expected.
Pistachio cream.
My own smoothie recipe.
Finally adding money to my Orca card!!
The full moon.
Ice cream as always. In particular making the rounds to my hometown ice cream haunts that I hadn’t seen in years.
Making a birthday cake for my dad - despite my nonchalance, this felt very special to me.
Time with my long distance friends.