September 21st, 2014

Family On A Sunday

It’s a Saturday night and I have the house to myself. It’s been hours of Gilmore Girls playing in the background, Intense Chocolate ice-cream and a half-assed manicure that never should have been. I reach for my laptop and I write, something short and quick, something for myself, to keep the mind at ease. I reach a stopping point and I check the time; it’s 2 am on a Sunday and for some reason I decide to check my email.

I have a message from my sister, sent a few hours earlier. All she says is, she felt like writing in English tonight and do I mind giving this a read? A Word doc. attached, a short, heartfelt piece written on a late Saturday night. A short essay about relationships—an intimate part of her life I learn about in spurts, very much like tonight, through pictures taken miles away and private messages on Facebook.

I read her story, edit some, and email her back. I tell her that it’s beautiful, that I love her and say goodbye.

My sister and I lead very different lives. We live in separate countries, have different jobs and surround ourselves with vastly different people, but on a Saturday night we both find ourselves alone and we write. We speak to each other in a few lines, through edit suggestions and absent explanations. This is the way we’ve learned to love each other; after ten years of living miles apart, with quiet support that isn’t quite tangible, but always real.

September 21st, 2014

What’s In Your Bag?


I’ve always been fascinated by the contents of people’s bags. Every day I walk by, work with, and see people carrying purses, clutches, briefcases, gym bags. So many possibilities! What is so important to them that they travel with so closely, day after day? 

"What’s in your bag?" has become a thing over the last few years on Instagram and travel blogs, and some people poke fun; of course things have been arranged, the ugliness hidden, old gum thrown away and loose, broken cigarettes cast aside. So what? Pictures are posed; there is still beauty in these pictures. At least there is to me. There’s beauty in these glimpses into people’s habits, their preferences. The book they’re reading, their favorite pen. What a wonder.

So, what’s in my bag? 

Let’s start with the bag itself: a dark cream-colored Zara, a gift from my mother during a recent Austin visit. 

The book: I’m finally reading Naked by David Sedaris. It’s so ridiculously good. I even read “True Detective” out loud to my husband. 

Marlboros: I know, I know. Bad. I’ve heard.

Card holder: My black leather cardholder from Matt & Nat. I freaking love this thing. I love my wallet, a beautiful YSL gifted by one of my best friends, but one cannot deny the comfort and ease that comes with carrying a simple card holder. My new best friend.

Make-up: Dior Addict in Fashion Week, Bobbi Brown in Rum Raisin (my favorite lipstick for 8 years), MAC in Russian Red. MAC eyeliner in Stubborn Brown, EOS bubble lip thingy (yes, that’s the official term).

Palmer’s Cocoa Butter: Yes. I finally found these gems. I am addicted to Palmer’s and have been forever, so the day I found the travel-sized ones was THE BEST DAY EVER. 

Sunnies: Ray-Ban aviators in black and gold.

Notebook No. 1: A Little Prince black moleskine, gifted by my thoughtful friend Sofia, who got it for me on a trip to Paris. Where I write down random thoughts, quotes, essays, first drafts, article pitches, etc. 

Keys to my Jeep, with my gun keychain which also happens to be a bottle opener. Good for beer. My leather strap with “E. VELA”, a gift from my talented friend Olga

Notebook No. 2: A gorgeous brown leather notebook I purchased during my honeymoon in New Orleans. A smaller notebook I carry with me everywhere. 

My little pink leather bag, also made by my friend Olga, which I use for my pens and pencils (aka my treasures).

Not shown: My iPhone, my lifeline. Not shown because, well, I used it to take the picture. But like most of the world, my iPhone comes with me everywhere.

That’s it. Short answers to a silly question. But I will always wonder about the things people carry, the things we choose to come with us while we move from work to home to drink to eat. It’s the little things that give us comfort, be they completely materialistic or entirely personal and intimate. They are ours. 

September 21st, 2014


I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything.

September 21st, 2014


Kate Moss by Alasdair McLellan for AnOther Magazine, Fall 2014/Winter 2015

Reblogged from The Harum-Scarum World
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I love people. I love words. I love telling stories. Storytelling will never die, ya hear?

This site contains a mix of my journalism portfolio, fiction writing, personal essays and, of course, pictures of cheese. This is Tumblr, after all.