As I'm wont to do, here are my reflections for year twenty-seven.

There was a lot of talk this year - politically, especially; also in my relationships, old and new.
There was also a lot of quiet - as I drove all around the country, swam underwater, looked upon the path for snakes (literally).
The conversations and empty spaces were born of each other.

My anxiety was both at its worst and most manageable, relatively speaking.

I ran away a few more times than I'd have liked. I drove away from his house in the early morning, the first coldsnap of fall, cursing myself for being open, and oh, what a stupid way to allow other people into my own shitshow. He called. "If you want to deal with it on your own, that's your choice but know it." I didn't realize how much I pushed love away until it asked me to return. 

My most listened-to artists of the year: Ethan Gruska, Phoebe Bridgers, Asgeir, Local Natives, The Staves, Jose Gonzales, Blake Mills, yMusic, Bon Iver, Bill Frisell.

There is little worse than being lied to by people you love, and who love you back amidst all of the things that makes us human.

Simple weddings are some of the best kind, and two weeks with the whole family every year ought to be non-negotiable.

Portland, ME is maybe the most charming sleeper city I've visited yet.

Don't drink the street green juice in Sayulita, Mexico. 

Shower Fresca - game changer.

Nostalgia is real, but nothing stays the same and time cannot be recreated. In fact, time is the only commodity that cannot be bought.

Nobody can do the map making for me.