Blood Bank

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August 29, 2015: I spent the majority of that night looking over the edge of a crumbling brick roof. At the lights in the Financial District indicating all the stockbrokers working late shifts and at the Hudson curling behind the Brooklyn Bridge. I didn’t feel like I lived in New York yet, but I was also holding to the firm belief that I shouldn’t be anywhere else. It was a strange idea to explain, even to myself, but I knew I meant it.

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12:01 p.m.

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5:14 p.m.

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9:20 p.m.

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10:12 p.m.

April 29, 2016: I sat down across from them very late that night, and felt in one instant, that I was home again, and in the next, further than I ever had been. Perhaps if the walls had been pinker and time a bit kinder, I would have been.

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May 15, 2016: I imagined it would be oddly reassuring to return to all my problems in California.

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May 24, 2016: But I suppose now that I think about it, my problem was that I thought I had the right to change some people’s minds. The reality was, I didn’t have a claim over anybody, just like nobody had a claim over me. We were all on our own, regardless of how long I chose to believe otherwise.

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I took this out of my cousin’s skylight

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May 25, 2016: Sometimes I wonder how all these strange people ended up in my life and me in their’s and if either of us deserve it.

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May 28, 2016:  I listened to their music speeding across the southbound highway, alone in the glow of my glaring white bedroom, under brown street lamps, on Sunday afternoons. Their songs made the scenery brighter, the days more passable somehow. And while the people I cared about seemed to let me down ten ways before each day was over, I knew they had all been there too; I could hear it in the sound.

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May 31, 2016: It’s not that some things stop being important to us, it’s just that we forget how much, and I like to assume that’s for the best; we all kind of have to.

A couple years back I lost something, a tendency to see the best in people and the corresponding warmth, and I know I’ll never that get back. But I am no longer naive.

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May 3, 2016: The blue cushion crumpled up beneath me as I sat down and pulled my sleeve up. Somehow, it was hard to believe the dark red pool in the plastic bag was mine.  The nurse came back after a while, stripped the opaque paper from some bandages and set them across my arm.  ‘Thank you for caring for those you love’ I read on the band-aid box in her hand.

I had a good friend in second grade. After school, we’d walk out to her backyard and pile rose petals in an evaporated bird fountain. One day, she sliced open her index finger with a rose thorn and with blood dripping onto her white shoes, told me if we pushed our blood together, we’d be sisters forever. I squeezed a thorn between my thumbs, inhaled sharply when the skin yielded to a thin pulse of red. We mashed our fingers together. There, she said, sisters forever. It’s been years since we last spoke, but I still think about how nice it was back then — to believe it was possible to connect with someone else just by touching my finger to theirs. In fact, connection has little to do with touch.

And of all the stuff we lose in a year — friends and empathy and memory —  the only thing we ever see leave our body is blood.

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May 27, 2016: The days were softer then. I can recall with a very thick kind of clarity the time we spent lying underneath oak trees, watching the golden leaves rust brown. And there was always music, but we could never seem to find where it was coming from.

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❤ Follow my instagram for more of the above photos ❤

 

Dear Reader,

I’ve developed a slight adoration for film photography. I spent last weekend in Napa at the Bottlerock Music Festival (featuring the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Death Cab For Cutie, Florence and the Machine, The Lumineers, X Ambassadors and so many more incredible bands) where I found myself so inspired by the beautiful scenery, people, and music. Yesterday, I got my film rolls from the weekend developed, and hopefully you enjoy how they turned out as much as I enjoyed taking them.

I also posted a new playlist featuring all songs I especially loved from the festival on the Music Forum, so please do go take a look and as always comment song/band/album suggestions.

I hope you have such an incredible weekend!

 

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XX, The Girl in the Little Black Dress

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94 responses

  1. Natalie,
    You (optimistically) don’t know me,
    really, still I can’t promise to be as
    sweet as everyone else has been;
    but I can promise to be fair enough
    – and that for sure!
    Before all, I would thank you for
    pinching me around those corners
    of my heart again, bringing me
    back to those memories – both
    harsh and good…
    “I wish I could have changed their
    minds, or had they done the same
    to me and I would have been a bit
    more thankful.”
    Then, I wish to make sure to
    appreciate you regarding the fact
    that you’re quite poetic even – “if
    the walls had been pinker and time
    a bit kinder.”
    Being a bit more obliged, I would
    bow for making me twitch again
    with “Sometimes I wonder how all
    these strange people ended up in
    my life and me in theirs and if
    either of us deserve it.”
    Afterall, BRAVO! for everything, but
    if you mind it not, please present
    me a reason to prefer only this
    artistic title above all.
    Jayant KASHYAP
    INDIA

    Like

  2. Not sure why, but I really like the photo with the ice cream cones, towards the top. It may have to do with the fact that I’m craving ice cream… Either way, it connects with my inner child. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I love the way you write, the way you think and convey your thoughts in such a clear yet romantic way.
    Also, the light you sometimes decide to use in your picture makes the objects somehow intangible, which I find an amazing link to what you say: “In fact, connection has little to do with touch.”
    I am glad I stopped by. Wish you an amazing Sunday,
    Greta

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I wanted to say also thank you for sharing this post (photos and all). I love the thoughts you share and the untold stories in the imagery from the photos themselves. Quite an interesting read and post.

    Like

  5. Love the vintage feel to your photos. (Just realized others have commented on the topic, but honestly the first thing that came to mind when I saw them was a mix of 70’s snapshots and some of the pictures my parents took in the late 90s with a disposable camera, in a good way of course) Great blog 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  6. “A couple years back I lost something, a tendency to see the best in people and the corresponding warmth, and I know I’ll never that get back. But I am no longer naive.”

    “In fact, connection has little to do with touch.”

    No, you’re not naive. Look carefully at your own words and discover that you have lost nothing. The essence of yourself, your connections is what imprints you on the world and that leaves you all the time. You can see it’s tracks. Words. Finger press sisters. Moments. What is visceral isn’t always all that’s tangible. I love to read your stuff, literate junior space case. It restores my faith in romanticism as concept.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. The photographs strike me as oddly nostalgic, though I know they are recent and entirely disconnected from me. I love how they have been used to convey a story.
    One phrase from the text really stands out to me: “The only thing we ever see leave our body is blood.” It is magnificently accurate and poetic, and has quite an impact as blood is certainly not the worst thing that will leave us in our lives (for most, anyway), and yet it is the very thing that keeps us alive.
    This is wonderfully written.
    -(I may also be particularly jealous of the acts you got to see live!)

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Reblogged this on and commented:
    “The reality was, I didn’t have a claim over anybody, just like nobody had a claim over me. We were all on our own, regardless of how long I chose to believe otherwise.”

    Liked by 2 people

  9. “-the only thing we ever see leave our body is blood.” And sweat, tears and excrement. Of those, only blood is life-giving and the loss thereof is the unnatural state. Don’t ask me what my point is. I guess I’m following your stream of consciousness.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. I’ve missed these posts. I love your journalistic writing style/journal entries. Thanks for sharing. You’re so young yet so adventurous and inspiring.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. I really like your photos, I danced to the ones with the band’s because I felt the rythm and it looked like everyone was having fun. I smiled at the ones with beautiful blue skies because through your photos you have answered a suggestion I posted yesterday, for inspirational quotes with the word sky in them. This was part of my response to the Daily Prompt – Sky. Why not take part?

    Liked by 1 person

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