Sundaze: one on one
how i speak, to you, to me
On Friday night, I fell asleep to FKJ. I’ve been thinking a lot about how we communicate difficult emotions when words fail us. It’s a weird churn in our stomach, a frog in our throat or a soreness in our physical being. Often times it’s unexplainable. It’s just one of those days.
I remember reading a piece in high school, and I’m not sure I fully understood it then but I kept a cutout of the newspaper in my journal. It read “People come, people go.” Humor becomes a coping mechanism, or an angry text, or a long shower spent transfixed on a block of tiles as your mind races through the what-ifs. You make a sad playlist or set yourself a phone reminder marking the day, the afternoon, a quiet anniversary for the moment. It goes on and on. Or you write this. Despite your own words feeling like the stranger you’ve become to yourself. Warped by emotion, you act out. Now, I’m sitting in bed, writing to you. To you, to me.
When all else fails, we make art.
The directors of these two movies were once married. Sofia Coppola's "Lost in Translation (2003)" was made to tell her side of the relationship and how he always had to work.
10 years later, Spike Jonze made "Her (2013)" which represents what it was like for him, after the two divorced.
The video shows parallel scenes between the two movies.
And you ask "What if I fall?"
Oh but my darling,
What if you fly?
- Erin Hanson
You feel deeply, wrap your feet in colored blankets and everything feels a little easier. Your mind has already replayed the words to / ♪ All Night - Men I Trust / before it reaches 0:25. And although people won’t always be there when you are needing- / ♪ Needin’ - Tokyo Tea Room /
Everything feels a little easier.
/ ♪ Threes - Uly /
This week, write about one thing you cherish. One thing that keeps you going.
I hope you keep going.
Solo date idea:
Go to the plant shop or the flower market. And pick out one thing you can nurture over the next week or year. Avoid buying a premade bouquet, take your time, pick up a stem, put it down, pick it back up anyway.
Love,
Aaisha
You give life to my weeks (and my heart). You help me explore and bring out my emotions like never before and you make me 'feel'(so much, so much of it)
Please, keep going, too.