paperyroots-blog

[paperyroots-blog]

Taking it all in on the third floor off the pot-holed, trash strewn, 10pm bar hopping ninth avenue, I breathe in the musty air and focus on the alignment of my wrists. The 6 origami lanterns dangle above, leaving the only yellow glow for the room of ten of us. We hear her voice calling out from the front of the mat.

In a synchronized motion, we push our spines into an unfamiliar shape and try to breathe past our expanding rib cage. “Ohhhhhhhhm” she vibrates from the front. I can feel the sweat sliding down both of my collarbones, collecting on the teal mat below. The hardwood floors creak as we rearrange our ankles into the air.

The loud sirens off the street try to jaywalk into our calm, but this class of converts cannot be interrupted. “Stay with me” she calmly says as she tiptoes through the checkerboard of tired bodies and tightened senses. I catch my partner’s eye as our table bodies begin to shake. In one motion our heart beats against the hard wood floors, as Poe would like.

The heat pulses with every new push—each balancing act of all of my weight on one wrist, one recentering into myself. After half of the class dwindles by, I forget about the New York life outside that room. How I could be on a Thursday night bar stool, stuttering my cautionary tales and counting down the hours of sleep I’d get that night. But this place, this has been the new equinox I have needed this month. The power of using all of your own muscles to stretch and climb and rebuild for an hour of downtime a night, to become focused on just your mat and possibilities, I’ll take this Thursday night.

The whistles continue below but our Ohms drown them out. My spine curves into an ampersand and I understand the beauty of a night out in New York City; my home and longest love affair.

[paperyroots-blog]

Let me tell you about joy. Joy has been sneaking up on me more than usual lately. It was felt heavily as my little brother was sitting next to me in the seat when we were free-falling under the stars on the final roller coaster run of the night. Through the dark trees and up around the glowing stands selling funnel cakes below. Teeth gleaming and stomachs feeling like an old waterbed. We’d bump elbows as we stretched to throw our arms above our heads into the cool air. That was joy.

[paperyroots-blog]

“I'm going to try to make this easy for some of my confused fellow men. Men have not been historically or systematically undermined, hypersexualized and devalued. Therefore, when we attempt to point at little isolated images and incidents as if to say, "see, it goes both ways!", we look like assholes. "Isn't Hunk of the Week sexist?" is not a legitimate point, it's a moronic one. It's not common. It's not the rule. When you come across sexualized images of men in media, how often is it an image of a person who has been denied agency as an individual? Can you imagine what that image would look like?

You will not, ever, find a successful female in the public eye who has not been publicly scrutinized on the basis of their desirability as a sex object or on their sex life. If that doesn't seem completely screwed up to you, I don't know what to do for you, but why don't you spend some time listening to you conscience before you rattle off dumb shit on the internet.” --one of the best comments I’ve seen on an online article.

[paperyroots-blog]

It was like autumn, looking at her. It was like driving up north to see the colors.

Middlesex

[paperyroots-blog]

I am practicing being kind instead of right.

Silver Linings Playbook

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Shaghai

[paperyroots-blog]

2013:

This year has been one for the books. After one of my favorite years (2011), i have felt on a wheel that could never quite catch up to the grandeur again. That something was missing. That I would continually try to fill the "happiness" void but would come up short. But, how to compare. In 2011 I got to spend a final year with my closest friends, had my longest dream (AFRICA!) come true, and experienced the feelings of New York all over again.

But this year. This 2013 has reached a new kind of beauty. A beauty with simple firsts and happy days that all became checkered together into something more magical than expected.

A surprise visit with my beloved friend in the city of rain and summer sunshine. All you can eat cheese buffets. And sharing stories in clouds beds or seeweed strewn "beaches" down by the light house. Seeing her again just a few months later as we drank ginger beer overlooking the skyline, or had full laughs during our picnic in Central Park. Creating new memories that kept me feeling it for the entire month after she left.

The last weekend of summer when I made a solo trek to Governor's Island, and felt just purely at ease. To see the city out in the distance. To see men dancing and that damn woman from What Not to Wear and to notice the seasons changing as I enjoyed the green grass under handmade sculptures. The fall coming oh so quickly.

The tram ride up to the Great Wall of China. The rickety way we would jolt down the mountain with each jank in the chain. To have stood atop, and see the wall continuing in every direction, was one of the best moments. Dripping in sweat, the climb, and tram ride, all became worth it.

When Chip and I first arrived in Istanbul, at night, without a working debit card. With our cab driver explaining the old city through broken English and we tried to communicate in the most embarrassing Turkish, it was the great adventure. I loved the rush and uncertainty that came with that ride. Looking out the window to the old city--with the wall shining in an orange glow after midnight, the Bosphorus almost turquoise, and the looks on our face when we were dropped in the wrong neighborhood, without any money.

Photographing the singer Lights at Central Park SummerStage. Feeling the pulse of the crowd behind me; the barrier barely holding steady. The excitement of looking through the photos later that night, dreaming of the day this could be all of it.

Going up in the highest skyscrapers, running home in the rain, and getting abandoned with Kara at 3AM on the wrong subway. Letting it all go.

Flywheeeel. The most changing experience of everything from the past year. The pure exhalation that floats over the room when an entire class has the energy to push through the miles, the hills, the final sprints. When the teachers call me out by name. When the snow falls every Tuesday in TriBeCa. When I feel like I'm walking on air hours after the last song. The community and love and happiness that goes along with 45 minutes. Ah, it can never fully be explained.

New foods were tried, new friends were found and cherished. Old friends with new loves, new beginnings. I've loved getting to be a part of this past year.

[paperyroots-blog]

[[Less than a week until I’ll be home in old New York]]

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Trying to find my home sweet home, sweet home.

My god, what happens when someone takes over your every thought?

When the mere mention of their name leaves you spinning

dizzy with the most enticing nausea. How walking one block down the street reminds you of them.

With their songs in your ears,

their brown eyes in your moments

and their breath against you in the morning.

[paperyroots-blog]

And you’ll be these bars when I’m at it again

And I’ll be that pause when you’re telling your friends that we both were 

better off.