22 October 2017

Be a flaneur.

Be a flaneur.

Above, the skies blue while the clouds gray. The rooves below are strong and meet in the corners inspired by the Victorian Gothic era. Banners wave loudly, but not before the leaves, which wilt away as the seasons change. Not before the grass and the flowers which are waiting to be reborn next spring. Then there are bodies of enigmas. Insignificant, yet so important. Bundles of warmth cling to the flesh of these enigmas rushing to shelter. To warmth. To knowledge. To their future. Whatever that may be.

Flaneur: passionate wanderer

Occasionally, we get bored of the things we see daily. Every so often, we become immune to everything around us. I’m from New York City. I can attest to that. We can’t be bother, at times, to venture into the city. As a native, there are certain places and things that I can’t be bothered with. Don’t let your nonchalant attitude about your location blur your lens. 

On Wednesday, my Women’s Lit professor gave us an assignment to be flaneurs. She wanted us to explore and write about it. The excerpt above is a result of that assignment. Lately, I haven’t been out anywhere and I haven’t done anything remotely fun. I know I said I would. This assignment gave me a real push.

I enjoy finding new things to be gaga for. Victorian Gothic architecture is one of those things. The moment I walked into this out of place area, I couldn’t believe what I saw. People who live in the neighborhood shrug it off. To me, it was this neo-gothic, Babylonian place that floated in the sky. If a person looks up from down below, the neo-gothic architecture looks like a floating, medieval cathedral. I finally found what captured my interest all those years ago. I fell in love with it and decided it's a place I want to be. 

Anyways, we don’t all live in a place like NYC nor do we all have to. Finding magic where you are is up to you. Be a flaneur wherever you are. You will find something. It doesn’t matter if you live in the same place you were born and raised. Even if it’s hard to find, there is something. 

Let the flowers blossom around what you see. Let the faeries and unicorns walk about. Mother Earth is a beautiful woman. She is the that woman. What do you see?  When you’re done, try to see it from someone else’s perspective. 

The lens you see through may solely yours, but there's always a new way to see things. 

Have fun, flaneurs. Enjoy whatever magic you find. 

Darianne 




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12 October 2017

Falling out of love with social media.

Falling out of love with Social Media.

In the beginning, social media was so addicting. I would be excited to tweet. I couldn’t wait to share a new photo on Instagram. Facebook was a telenovela I couldn’t wait to log in to. Tumblr allowed me to express myself without having to do the most work. Social media has its faults. There's no doubting that. A lot of time has passed since I began using social media. Many things have changed too.

Social media was another small space where I got to share a bit of my personality. Then I decided to blog. As a blogger, everything changed. Social media became a platform where I summed up everything into a photo. Social media must speak for my personality and my brand. That is something I find hard to do because material things do not define a person. I do the best I can, but it all gets a bit tiring. It's sort of like running to stand still. If you catch my drift.

For a while now, I’ve found myself straying from social media. There are times where I set a reminder for myself to post on Instagram. There used to be a new photo up at the same time every day. There are OOTD's from my favorite bloggers on Instagram that I do look forward to, but that's about it. I forget to tweet about the newest post on this blog. Sometimes I can’t be bothered to do so. I really use twitter to keep up with my favorite musician and I've strayed from that too. I deactivated my personal Facebook months ago. Telenovela’s get old quickly. Trust me. Tumblr is safe. I’m very busy, but I still enjoy my time on the site. I really want to blame adulting for my lack of interest with social media. I’ve tried to play the blame game. Then I remember this has been going on for a long time.

I thought I was simply growing bored with everything. I thought, maybe you’re getting too old. What the hell does that mean? I’m only twenty-three. It turns out I am not the only one. Other people are in the midst of a dry spell. Social media, in ways, has become uninspiring and uninteresting. It’s all one cliché after another. With that being said, I like to remind myself separate blogging from social media. Blogging is still a passion and I still enjoy it. I don’t feel forced or bored with it. It’s my little space on the Internet. Falling out of love with social media might be temporary. Who knows. I sure hope so. 

After taking my time and thinking long and hard, I decided to go back to the way things used to be. Spending time outside and exploring is something I’ve always enjoyed. I am not going to spend too much time on social media. Instead, I’m going to go out and inspire myself and find the things that inspire me most again. Of course, I will share along the way, but I need to find my footing again. I should remind myself what it was like in the beginning. Don't get me wrong. Interacting with everyone is so much fun. It's the other aspects of social media that I seem to no longer be fond of. Hopefully I can write about how I fell back in love with social media.

If you’re feeling this way, don’t fret. Take the time you need away. Social media will be there when you return. It isn’t going anywhere. Sometimes we need to remember to be present. Our lives shouldn't revolve around an app or a cellular device. I hope you feel inspired again and the time you decide to take away helps you with whatever it is you need.

Darianne 

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08 October 2017

Sunday mornings are humbling

Sunday mornings are humbling.

Sundays feel like riding a skateboard in an open space alone. Sundays feel like the quiet of a tender puff of air that causes the first autumn leaf to fall. She’s like the eerie quiet of snowfall on Christmas Eve morning. She is a collection of my favorite poems spilled out into the world. Sundays are the happy memories of my mom playing “Suavemente” while dancing with a broom and cleaning at the crack of dawn. Sundays are so damn present. 

Today is that morning. It’s that kind of Sunday. The sounds of Ed Sheeran's "Cold Coffee" is playing quietly like it has every morning for weeks. The past few weeks have been exhausting. Not much sleep. Not much fun. Just work and school (so many papers). Today feels unlike those of the past few weeks. I'm sat with my coffee smiling at the feelings Sunday brings.

Sundays slow down time and I’m reminded of my blessings. I am so thankful for it all. Including my little space on the web (my blog which turned three on 22 September 2017). There’s nothing quieter than a Sunday morning. Even New York isn’t loud on Sunday Mornings and New York is always loud. Sundays are for the hush tunes of Ed Sheeran and a fresh bouquet of flowers. Sundays are for more coffee and catching up with bloggers and blogging. Sundays are my reset button. We all need one.

Even though I have not slept and I’m drowning in a sea of essays, I have so much to be thankful. Last Sunday, I saw Ed Sheeran. Best concert I’ve ever attended. He was worth waiting almost seven years for. I’m keeping fingers crossed for Met Life tickets.

With my sleepy eyes, I must bid you adieu. I could use a nap to the sweet acoustics of my many autumn inspired playlists on Spotify. Before I go, I must ask because I am curious about your Sundays. What does Sunday mean to you? Any memories or traditions?

Darianne 

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