muscle memory is so beautiful to me. my body remembered better than i did. yet we're the same thing, with the same memory.

A comforting thought for anyone feeling stuck right now: fields have to lie fallow for a season so the soil can rest and recover its nutrients. trees look entirely dead in the winter, but underneath the bark, they are preparing for spring. you are allowed to have fallow seasons. you are allowed to be in a winter state. your productivity does not define your worth as a human being, nor does it define your talent as an artist or a creator. if the words aren't flowing, or the art isn't coming together, or you just feel tired—let yourself rest without the crushing weight of guilt. you aren't failing; you are gathering the nutrients you need for the next beautiful thing you make. 🤍

Collect small astonishments. The first tomato of summer. A dog dreaming in its sleep. Someone laughing before they finish the joke. The moon arriving before the sun has quite departed. We keep waiting for life to announce itself with trumpets, but it has always preferred quieter instruments.

May every mold or case around your heart that has kept you from being yourself be transmuted expeditiously. May nothing but the truth exist through you. May you always be free enough to express yourself exactly as you feel. May it be clear. May it be so.