I run home in the pouring rain, slam dance to classical, kiss with my eyes closed, love all manner of conversation, hug everyone and smile like I mean it. I love to bask in nature and read obscure poetry. I love the smell of vintage stores and that special boy. I love playing dress up, American lit and baseball games. I love hiking and jewelry and children’s books. I love sleeping in my makeup and waking up with it dusting my eyelids like charcoal. I love Andy Warhol, baking and Christmastime. I love grocery shopping and F. Scott Fitzgerald. I love lace and black and white photographs. I think incessantly, especially right before bed. I take hours to fall asleep. I would be lost without my crazy lipbalms. I love foods I can’t pronounce and chamber music and jam sessions. I love the smell of campfires, waking up in love and rock and roll. I wander in art galleries and blow bubbles over the lake. I talk too much and I reread Strangers in Paradise every few months. I love the first snow and the last kiss. I love songs that get under my skin and I’m obsessed with anything I’ve never heard before. I like to stare at paintings, reread old journals, and hum Rachmaninoff in the rain. I like to crunch the autumn leaves when they sound like the most excellent potato chips. I love dark chocolate, swashbuckling and new sheet music. I want to be pure passion. I want people around me who make me want to soar. My mantra is Passion in all things.
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