Flood / Flowers

A string of storms in the Twin Cities last week left about 280,000 people without electricity or hot water for 3 or 4 days. Way down in south-south Minneapolis (or SoSoMi, my attempt at cool neighborhood rebrand), we got lucky and functioned mostly the way we would on a sunny day--reclusively watching full seasons of America's Best Dance Crew.

In Uptown, my friend Carl took advantage of the blackout and created a pentacle out of flour with pillar candles on each star point (not pictured, because, yikes, just imagine it). He also took the photo above of his friend's car, floating away.

For now, it's stopped raining, the sun is out, I don't even need to turn on A/C, and the peonies are in bloom. Everybody: I'm really trying not to make this entire blog a #humblebrag, but I feel very lucky.

Sleep-at-Home Camp

I never went to sleepaway camp, but I suspect I would've loved it. As someone who can be anxious about being underprepared and far from home, I appreciate the feeling of constant productivity with the stakes of  friendship bracelets and s'mores. I like my brain to be on low hum.

For the past year, I've been jumping into all the activities that grad school presents, which means I've been alternately elated and stretched thin: free classes, teaching, extracurriculars, constant company, and the freshman 15 (again). 

This summer, I'm lucky and get to sit at home. I have an internship at the contemporary art museum. I get to travel and write. I get to cook, garden, and sew. And because even in Minnesota it doesn't snow (too far) into summer, I get to go outside.

So even though all I've written is really terrible poetry, I'm not mad at myself. Because I have time to look at things again, and slow down, and take note.