2021, a reflection.
2021 has been…an anomaly. the very quality which makes reflection such a difficult task, is the same quality that deems reflection almost necessary. last new years’ eve unfolded at an inlet house party, with an assortment of virtual strangers, and one who would become a good friend. late night, cheap beer, the most excitement i’d had in months. i had a good feeling about 2021, and turns out i was right.
as the year rolled over, i kept walking on the beach— with new faces and old— still with an affinity for picking up shells along the way. and somehow, as the days passed, the place i was “biding my time” in while i “figured things out” started to feel a little more like home. and in the last days of february, before spring snuck in, i wrote my number on a napkin. and it turned out to be the unassuming start of something good.
i quit my job making coffee and started two more jobs making cocktails instead— like i’d wanted to all along. i went back to nashville for the first time since november 2019; its familiarity was endearing, its restaurants still special, its people still deeply important. but it didn’t feel like home anymore, and it felt peaceful to say so. i drove back to the beach fast, only stopping for gas, and left a barstool open beside me.
spring faded into summer in a haze, as less of my moments were spent on my own: bike rides for coffees and beers and pizza, walks around brookgreen to see the otters, late-night cheerses once we closed up the restaurants. friends came to town, and i found friends here. i turned 26 with my favorite dog in the world beside me, and i spent the day on a golf course in the rain. i found my first ever sharks tooth, and then i went out a few times a week to find more.
autumn found me on the go: a whirlwind weekend in new york for blue bottle and bars, for broadway, for long walks and friends and a surprise slice of delivered birthday cake. a quick, eventful trip to atlanta to see st. cloud played live; it felt like floating. a weekend in north carolina for pinegrove and the delight of being let into day-to-day ordinary. a 24-hour jaunt to greenville just to have dinner and breakfast with my friends.
and now winter leaves me with a routine i’ve come to love: coffee before work, cocktails as the day ends (new recipes each night), kitchen dances and card games, golden girls on the tv as my eyes close. 2021 may have found me writing less and reading less, but it also found me open— to change, to sameness, to hope, and love. and open is all i ever wanted to be.
here’s some music i loved this year, in no real order:
true love - hovvdy
cool dry place - katy kirby
del water gap - del water gap
if this isn’t nice, i don’t know what is - still woozy
you have to watch your teeth get worse - james lockhart jr.
sunflower - briston maroney
imaginary people - charlie martin
changephobia - rostam
history of a feeling - madi diaz