The sartorial scene at Kenyon College, in a nutshell.
TO BE NOTED:
Hey follower humans! So you should actually follow me at this guy: heartlandhussy.tumblr.com
Why? Because that’s where all the new stuff is.
And by new stuff I mean pretty much the same as the old stuff.
And by the old stuff I mean this blog right here. Which is no longer being updated. Because this blog was for college and I’m not in college.
Feelings and stuff.
Maybe baby goodbye
It has been my goal since starting this blog four years ago to end it once I graduated from college. I want it to serve as a sort of snapshot of who I was and who I became, something visual that I can look back on when I think, “God, was I ever that…young, naïve, obsessed with glitter (though I think that final quirk is a permanent one).”
But I’ve become weirdly attached to this brand of lackadaisical blogging, so I won’t be leaving entirely. I’m starting a new bloggyblog guy:
Please do follow, since it’ll serve as a place for hopefully a little more writing/art/original photos, and also as a way to assure people that I have not, in fact, been abducted or run away to find the mermaid lagoon.
It’s been a kooky four years.
See ya, nerds.
My graduation present: “Though she be but little, she is fierce.”
Graduation feelings while waiting for da Cove
Dear Kenyon College,
It is almost 2 am on the morning of my graduation, and I want to thank you.
Thank you for showing me that I am not so strange as to be unrelatable.
Thank you for teaching me, and for teaching me to acknowledge what I do not know.
Thank you for the wonders of mac n cheese wedges, shotgunning beers, dancing with my whole body, 2am river swims, face jewels, sing-a-longs, and harmonizing.
Thank you for making me brave.
A few friends and I were sitting and reminiscing earlier tonight, and one posed the question, “Would freshman year you be proud of senior year you?” After we all did the requisite crying, another said she had so little grasp on who she was before Kenyon, it was difficult to answer with certainty or specificity. I think coming here as I did, when I did, altered me more than I will ever grasp. I, too, find it difficult to speak to who or what I was on move-in day 4 years ago. But that’s okay. Thank you, Kenyon, you made me whole.
— Pablo Neruda (via stxxz)
Couples dancing in Van Nuys, California, 1959. Photo by Yale Joel for Life magazine.
The first night of senior week coincided with the local high school prom and that seemed pretty fitting.
BRING IT, BIG GIRL WORLD