When I was younger, I didn’t really have a bucket list. My dreams were things that were all easily accessible like doing well on a test or beating a certain video game. Now, as a 15-year-old, my bucket list has started expanding to include experiences and achievements that will take more preparation and effort. The older I get, the more I realize that there’s a huge world out there, and I’d like to see it. That’s why, last year, I decided to apply for a program called Where There Be Dragons. Where There Be Dragons is an organization that leads trips for young people who spend the summer in third-world countries on all parts of the globe. I did a lot of thinking to decide between all the offerings. I thought about what places sounded the most interesting, but also what kinds of things I would get to learn about and experience in each place. Finally, after much thought and research, I decided my top choice was Indonesia.

The thoughts in my head race by,
I only write at night.
Faeire Queens and butterflies,
I only write at night.
Wars and pollution,
I only write at night.

As the bright stars race above me,
And the moon shines so brightly,
I only write at night.
As the safelights whiz by,
And UFOs' drift by,
I only write at night.
​I see such beauty in the world,
It almost makes me cry.
I only write at night.
Do you wonder why I write,
At such an 'ungodly hour'?!
I only write at night,

Because a deaf bird can still sing.

Mama, why do I feel so alone?
Sometimes, you are too big for the world. You are full, too full, full to the eyes.
Then why do I feel so empty?
Sometimes, you are too big for yourself, too.
I don’t know what to do.
Pick up your tears and your knees and make a mosaic out of your pieces.
Try again.
Again?
Again and again and again.

Keep one hand in a fist, but leave the other open
to the birds,
to the sky,
to someone you haven’t met.
Give and give and give,
but don’t be afraid to take.
You are the first, the only, the priority.
You are yours.

And always carry a needle and thread,
so when you break hearts, you can stitch them up as best you can.

I don’t want to break hearts, Mama.
I know. 
Believe me, my darling, I know.

But don’t give up.
Sing with the car windows down and

 

To help our planet all you truly need is a fresh mindset. In the past few months I've grown from someone who simply enjoys nature, to someone who deeply appreciates its value. I then wanted to find ways to give back to this lovely earth whom we've broken so much. However, focusing on the negative is part of the problem. Yes our ecosystems are dying, but you know that, what needs to become more known is hope. The hope that you and others can change your ways and open your mind. You can save the planet. The sooner you realize it, the more empowering it is. 

I started small, by shopping at thrift stores more often. Not only is thrifting the most eco friendly way to shop, but it is a lot more fun. So after I started thrift shopping I stopped buying from big retail stores. I even brought out my old sewing machine and patterns and made myself a few shirts.

 

this is a letter to myself
when the dark and the cold and the loney 
threaten to overtake your mind
when the hurt and the pain and the longing 
magange to creep their way inside
i dont want you to give in 
i dont want you to bite your tongue and close you eyes
dont let these feelings inside
cause i love you
i care 
even if im in the past
and your not yet here
i love you
and i see 
in you, all the best parts of me 
this is a letter to myself
no matter where you are
no matter where youve been 
no matter what youve done
i still love you more then them
no matter what youve seen 
no matter what youve heard 
ill still listen to your every single word
casue i love you 
and i care
even if im in the past
and your not yet here
this is a letter to myself. 
 

My latest photography adventure!
 

You are not all perfect.
There are parts of you that you don't want to explain,
there are pieces of you that contrast with everything else.

Yet
people will call you beautiful
and you will like it.

But
chaos is beautiful too
and messy is beautiful
and flames are beautiful too.

Impulse lies uneasy in your joints
but feels welcome in the heart.

Water falters at the desert
yet pours from the spout.

You do not have to burn to be shining,
you do not have to throw yourself in the flames
to become beautiful.

A deep heart is twisted around your ribs,
blood cannot paint 
so imagine your ribs to be pearly white.

If your heart became an ocean,
your lungs would freeze to become glass caskets
already prepared for a dying breath.

As if the body was a metaphor for mistakes.

My hair is tangled in fishing hooks,