Monday, December 21, 2015

62 posts

on this blog, i have posted 62 times in the year of 2015.
Everything from rants and passion
to here's my boring stick-in-the-mud life.

the thing is, so much more has happened.
more than those 62 posts.
broken hearts, broken memories.
slow healing.
laughter that goes on and on until your gut aches.
a goal has been set.
multiple goals, actually.
and boundaries abound,
but our comfort zones have been stretched beyond belief.

i think i thought that life could be summed up.
that we could package life, and even people. and even
events, those summer vacations and
spur-of-the-moment road trips. the year after year of
christmas tree hunting in the woods and countless sledding and skiing days.
but we can't. because those things weren't made to be packaged.
they were meant to sit out, draped over the rocking chair like grandma's quilt.
somehow life wasn't meant to fit in a box. it was meant to spread out and run over everything.
Life isn't poptarts. its microwaved nutella.

but that's how life is best served. warm and gushy.
have you ever had frozen nutella?
worst ever.
frozen life. stuck in ice, no responses, cold and stiff.
what would be the point?

so yes - we'll try to fit life into our blog posts.
we'll try to fit it into a box.
but somehow the smell of sand and slightly damp carpet seeps out through the tape.
somehow, broken pine needles don't do bubble wrap.
somehow, somehow, snow doesn't package.

smiles don't fade in my head but printing out memories make them lose their color.
songs get stuck on replay in our brains even though they make us cry and when we try to record them they come out flat.

i try to type out words but they're two-d.
they're just words.
it seems that all i have to do, though, is read them and the mental images come flooding back, like a re-living of my life.
my eyelids are the screen - on them i can see the flash of red as fireworks go off in the fog.
dad throws up a sparkler and it lands in the snow, turning it neon green for a moment before going black.
lexy waltzing into my room at 5 o'clock christmas morning.
dani making me sit in the dirt so i can sit right in the saddle.
chris and the rubber chocolate cake.
joelle: 'its your happy birthday! its YOUR happy birthday! its your HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
eliza, round body, cooing and making me think that maybe, maybe i could have kids one day.
mom, dragging me along on hiking trips that were my idea and helping me salvage recipes gone wrong. me not having problems with chemistry and she just throws up her hands. me freaking out about basically anything and her say "Sam. CHILL. JUST DO IT. you're only holding yourself back."

and i can't write that on paper.
i can't write any of that on paper.
my mind is absolutely tick tight full of every memory i've ever had.

and i can't get it out.
not on paper.
not on this blog.
i can't recreate the scenes and take pictures.
its stuck in my head.

so yes. i've posted a lot this year.
personally, i feel like i've developed a lot in my writing.
i like my photography.
i'm getting better at arting.
but still -

it lacks that life.
i cannot capture life in my art.
in my writing.
in my pictures.

or maybe i can.
maybe i can and i just can't see it.
because in comparison to the product i see in my head,
the vivid world with so many colors,
in comparison, my output is wan. it is drab and empty.
if only you could see the real thing.

there is a species of shrimp that lives in the ocean. it can see 16 different color cones.
we can see three.
i wonder what that shrimp's world looks like.
it must be vivid.
i wish what i put out there was vivid. 16 color cone vivid.
but its not.
(or maybe i only have 3 color cones.)

i shall continue to write though. i will continue to post.
i will keep snapping photos.
and if next year holds 300 posts instead of 62, well, then grand.
if it only holds 12, that's okay too.

but i must recognise that life is not 2-d.
what we put out might be 2-d.
we probably won't be able to capture essencces. and mists. and 16 different color cones.
but we can capture 3. so why not?
why not do what we can, saturate ourselves in life.
breathe it. right now, its all we have.


  1. I really love this Sami, especially your comparison with life and Nutella. Perfection <3


    1. Thanks Noor! :) seriously though. Nutella will be the death of me. its my fatal flaw.

  2. This is so relatably wonderful. :') I do feel like sometimes what I write really doesn't capture what I've experienced...but at the same does?! And I think we, as artists and writers, tend to feel like our work is worser than it is. x) This post was delightfully dimensional. I AM JUST SAYIN'.
    Thanks for stopping by @ Paper Fury!

    1. ^_^ Thanks Cait! I know, seems like we're trying to say something but it ends up not coming out right? like, we start to say something to explain a certain objects significance and it ends up coming out like "yeah it was cool". GAAAH. but i'm glad you enjoyed the post!

  3. THIS. Ohhhh my word this. CAN I JUST HUG YOU? Cyber hugs. "that we could package life, and even people. and even events..." < um so yes. It's so true! And (at least for me) that view of life is kind of reinforced by the calendar. Like how we have to always schedule things and fit them into certain little boxes (literal boxes heh) of days in the week, or we have to have deadlines for things. It's like...CAN'T WE JUST LIVE IN THE MOMENT? I'm trying to, anyway. x)

    I totally agree with Cait up there. ^.^ Although this post (and other posts) may seem 2D to the creator, they're very three-dimensional to the reader. THIS IS WHY I LOVE REALISTIC FICTION. That beautiful struggle of trying to squeeze everyday gems into writing that makes the reader like, "WHOA. I FELT THAT." ugh. goals. ;)


    p.s. "Life isn't poptarts. its microwaved nutella." < that is one of the most gorgeous descriptions of ever. okay bye. ♥

    1. ^_^ i love cyber hugs! *sends cyber hugs* THANK YOU SO MUCH ABBIEE..... living in the moment is so hard. but when we do its so lovely. (and life totally is microwaved nutella. it just is.) :D