November 18th, 2018: Forgot to Forgive

Dear World,

Originally for this week’s letter, I wrote about modern art and tied it all up with a conversation I had at the library and a glimmering Christmas ribbon

Then in the middle of a passionate tangent about Kandinsky’s Murnau Street with Women, I said, “nope.”

It’s not like I hadn’t been enjoying what I was writing. I didn’t dislike it either. I just felt guilty for caring so deeply about these women and their colorful town. Why should my readers care what I’m saying about some old painting? I imagined my biggest fans, Grandma and Grandpa, trying not to doze off at the mention of art history.

So I tossed it.

Instead, I gazed in the mirror, eye to eye with my guilt. Where did you come from?

Oh, my least favorite word,


Oh, I hate it so much. I forgot how much I hate it.

That awful word and I became acquainted before my senior year of high school as I fell in love with indie music and “deep” books written by dead white guys.

This prompted my friends and family to “joke” with me about my preferences being pretentious. I went along with it and at first, it felt harmless. I enjoyed my new interests, what was wrong with that? I even began to “joke” about it myself. Until I began “ironically” wearing pretentious as some badge of honor.

Yeah, it didn’t take too long for that “ironically” part to disappear.

Continue reading “November 18th, 2018: Forgot to Forgive”

October 7th, 2018: Flagstaff, Arizona

Dear World,

I have to confess, it’s been a difficult past couple of days. I am calling them difficult even though bad feels more appropriate right now.

I’m trying to make bad days troubling, or difficult, or challenging. Even then, is the word day sufficient either? Often times, for me, it’s really only a bad, troubling, difficult, or challenging couple of minutes or hours.

Though I guess it doesn’t matter as much how I define all this sadness but rather how I embody it. I feel it’s important for me to let it go through its course. To help the process, I’ve come to Flagstaff to visit some of my friends.

Thankfully I’ve had a little bit of much needed time to myself. I chose to go to a couple of art galleries in Historic Downtown. I felt at home among the blown glass, handmade political shrines, and landscape watercolor paintings.

In the first gallery, I was curious if the clerk was an artist.

“No, are you?”

Continue reading “October 7th, 2018: Flagstaff, Arizona”

September 1st, 2018: New York, New York

Dear World,

Greetings from New York City!

Can you tell I love this place? This is actually my second time here. This January I was here for a few days by myself. That was actually my first solo trip ever! Because of this, I think New York will always hold a special place in my heart.

So why am I here?

Well, way back a couple of months ago a friend of mine shared a link with me about this Broadway camp “for adults.” This particular link was talking about how they were giving away scholarships for each of their programs. I was clearly intrigued. It seemed like a new program and even though it was out of my budget I decided that it couldn’t hurt to apply.

The application wasn’t anything rigorous either. It didn’t even seem like a prestigious thing. There was no need to submit a resume or tape myself singing. I really only had to tell them about myself. Hm, okay how about this? Vail Varone: A Poem.

Continue reading “September 1st, 2018: New York, New York”

August 6th, 2018: More Than a Haircut

Dear World,

There has been a lot going on in my head this past week… one of the most prevalent thoughts being how much I want new friends.

I don’t hate my current friends nor do I want to stop being friends with them. But I’m not stupid, I can see myself drifting away from some of them. I’ve undergone some enormous changes within the past year as have they. I’ve begun to wonder if this situation was inevitable.

Specifically, what I mean when I say I want new friends is, I want to find “my people” rather. You know? Those few rare souls that just get you a bit more than the rest of the planet.

It’s something that’s been in my mind even before my European adventure. However, it has begun to tug more and more on my heart since I’ve returned. This weekend was more of a pulling instead of a mere tug.

Continue reading “August 6th, 2018: More Than a Haircut”

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