La Push, Hurricane Ridge and a Goodbye to the PNW- Seattle, Washington

What do you do when it’s your last vacation day and you realize there is still just so much too see? Do you rationalize and prioritize and make plans for when you can come back? If you’re a more logical person than I, then yes, that would be exactly what you would do. If you’re me and/or you’re traveling with me (and you love me too much to explain why this would be a bad idea) you try and fit in everything you want to see in one day and get in the car and go.

Such was the case on our last day in the Seattle area. We had seen a fair amount already and the plans had been to spend our last day exploring the city, maybe hitting up a couple of bookstores and just relaxing. But after visiting Vancouver, I hadn’t been too enamored with Seattle in comparison (no offense to Seattle of course, we all have our favorite cities) and felt my heart calling out to go back to the mountains and for one last view of the ocean before we headed back Texas. So the morning of our last day we packed up the rental car and headed off to the first stop of the day, navigating to the Hurricane Ridge visitor center inside of Olympic National Park.

A leisurely 3 hour drive from downtown Seattle made all the better by the beautiful landscape and perfect weather. We didn’t intend to do any hiking or really much of anything that wasn’t just looking around in awe at the view once we got up there. Beautiful green mountains spread out in front of us and I honestly think the only comparable view i’ve had in a national park was when we visited Rocky Mountain Natl. Park, and even then there were no gorgeous bay views. We couldn’t stay too long as we had another 2 hour or so drive to make it to our next destination but on the way down back towards Port Angeles we still stopped at almost every lookout to take it all in, get just one last taste of this park we knew we’d have to come back to explore further one day soon.

La Push was the last destination of the day and the most exciting for me as I had looked up photos of the area the night before and kept showing them to the bf like, “Look! Isn’t this just amazing! We gotta go!”  till he said yes yes it was very nice  and agreed we would go even if the drive back from there to Seattle would be slightly painful. We arrived just a little before 5pm, later than we’d wanted but still excited to find our way to the beach. Parking by the trail for Second Beach we made our way into the forest for the short hike to the beach, less than a mile and pretty easy in most parts. We mostly only encountered people coming back so we hoped we had managed to avoid the more crowded part of the day and by the time we got close enough to hear the sound of the ocean and smell that familiar salty air there was more than a slight giddiness to our step.

Just beautiful, I honestly could have stayed there all day, walking along the sand with my feet getting splashed by the cold water and my jeans rolled up to my knees but we knew the sooner we started the 4 hour drive back the less we would hate ourselves the next morning. And so, with just one last look we clambered over the driftwood and headed back to the car and, after brushing ourselves off as best we could, we put on some music and started the long drive back.

We decided to take the south US 101 route back rather than head back up to Port Angeles again and just enjoy the views of the coastline. Passing through all the sleepy coastal towns (Humptulips!) and various signs for public beaches, thinking back on the past few days and all we’d seen and done, I knew that we had to come back for a much longer stay if not just somehow make a permanent move.

It wasn’t until almost midnight when we made it back to the hotel and as we walked from the parking garage over to the entrance, we passed by the Space Needle, all lit up against the dark night sky and we stopped there for a minute to look up. Tired and sweaty, the bottom of our jeans covered in sand and our shoes muddy as hell, we looked up at this landmark of the Pacific Northwest and felt just overwhelmingly content with the way this trip had gone. Maybe not perfectly planned, but more than perfectly adventurous for us.

~m

Art Journal Monday- Take Me Home

Take me home, fablesandcoffee art journal
plane tickets art journal pages
virgin airlines, lets go and take me home
jackalope and art journals
polka dots and ticket stubs art journal page
Processed with VSCOcam with 4 preset
art journal pages for december
watercolor practise
artjournal mountains

in the dark, this page
Pauls montana gift

Man, I was not feeling the art this weekend. Don’t know why, inspiration was just not there, but I still wanted to push myself to get past it and here we are. It’s cool if you’re not feelin’ it because let me tell you, after doing these pages I just laid my head down on my desk for a good bit and thought about eating gelato. I tried to jump start my mind with music, but I kept going through weird moods and jumping from Beyoncé to “best of” lists on Spotify to study music mixes on 8-tracks. I finally settled on Daughter, which seems to be my default music soundscape….and i’m not actually sure what that says about me.

When I go into work and they ask me what I did over the weekend,my answer will be “Bought clothes and productivity apps while sporting my new Sloth Parachuting super extra large t-shirt. It’s huge but I love it, you know, so comfy…..er….how about you?” I think it’s obvious i’m the awkward co-worker who brings her own coffee so she doesn’t have to make smalltalk at the coffee bars.

Songs on repeat this past week
Born To Die- Lana Del Ray
Weekend- VÉRITÉ
XO- Beyonce
Drift- Galimatias
Youth- The Crookes
Samson- Regina Spector
Ne me quitte pas- Jacques Brel

Lets end this year with a bang. Or in my case, lets end it in a small sugar-induced coma.
~m

Your Sweater Vest Is Nice- Ideas about Friendships and Terrible Selfies

Hugging the penguin costume

It started a little like this :
At times overly-pretentious photographer friend-” Yeah, i’ve been working out a lot lately, 6 days a week. ” *insert terrible selfie here*
Your rather tired and sleep deprived narrator– “Wow, 6 days a week? Thats dedication right there. Nice.”
At times overly-pretentious photographer friend– “Your supposed to say I look good.”
Your rather tired and sleep deprived narrator –” Yeah, I know. ”

And well, after that the conversation spiraled into disjointed words and it ended 10 minutes later with me blocking him on my phone and going to make myself a cup of tea. The thing that gets me here is, I always kinda figured the friendship would one day end this way, and YET, we stuck it out for literal ages out of a misguided idea that we were good for each other, in some way. But we were not. While it might have taken much longer than i’m proud to admit, i’m finally learning how to walk away from friendships that I hoped one day would evolve into something more than they were currently, and trying not to feel bad about it.

Maybe that makes me sound like an utterly shitty person, so let me explain.

I took a pause a couple of months ago and realized, holy-mother-of-gods I have a good number of people who I consider friends ….where the reality is that they see me as either a muse of sorts or, even worse, an idea to lean against for comfortI don’t mind being the friend you run to when things get bad, especially because I think kindness and compassion are some of the best things you could give to your friends… but… when people see you as this pillar of endless support regardless of how out of control your own life is, thats a bit of a problem. And when it comes to being seen as a muse, the person they turn to when feeling uninspired, that can be so flattering no? What could possible be wrong with that? Nothing really, if thats just a part of how you’re seen. But when your role in someones life is “muse“, full stop, and you had hoped that perhaps you were something more substantial than that, it can easily kill little bits of yourself.Professional Coffee and Fables Up at 3am, here we go

There is a full person behind these words, behind the colors seen from a distance, not just an idea to be used for comfort or inspiration. 

I believe everyone has millions of different parts to them, tiny worlds and immense galaxies, whether they know it or not. The person they present to their loved ones vs the one seen by abrasive strangers. The strained smile given out of relief at the end of a hectic morning and the genuine half crazed grin blazed across a face in the middle of an adventure. The love of this vs that, fears and long held beliefs clashing with new ideas. There is so much to people, and when it comes to people who you truly love and care about, I believe it can be the greatest disservice to see them as this one dimensional structure instead of the ever growing organic beauty that they really are. No one is just one thing, no matter how much they might insist they are, and treating someone like a concept created solely for your own enjoyment/betterment, man, it’s the worst. IMG_6840

Anyways, this got a whole heck of a lot more personal than I thought it would but there you are. Also, I should mention that I do actually have some amazing and wonderful people in my life who see me as the walking human disaster I am vs whatever the heck others think. I like to chill out in my empty bathtub when things get really stressful, I am more dependent on coffee than I am on anything else except perhaps oxygen, and I genuinely like getting to know people for the millions of gears working to make the person they are.

~m

Up Up, Look Up- Sky and Stone in Trinidad Colorado

Look at this sky
Can you tell I love it?
red and red and white and blue
Up up, look up! Trinidad Colorado
A lovely set
Broken framework in Trinidad Colorado
Just a moment, Trinidad Colorado
white and green and lovely
Epic sky and stone
The sky was lovely, Trinidad Colorado

When you wander, look up look up look up

So did I mentioned how tired I was when I was wandering around Colorado taking these photos? I think I might have..but well, this was a sort of a last minute trip, planned in the course of less than a week and thrown together in the hours before departing. I did a full shift at work, came home to finish packing, then we threw everything in the car and headed off towards Colorado and colder climates. We drove across west Texas through the night, skipping into the top corner of New Mexico just as the sun was coming up and staining the skies purple, quiet music plinking on the radio, both of us just a little bit tired. My bf had managed to get a couple of hours of sleep in, whereas I was running on coffee fumes at that point and reality was a little shaky at that point for me. Still, you can’t stop me when I get an idea in my head and running around empty streets with dark circles emerging on my face, the longing for sleep and more coffee was put aside for the deeper craving to look closer closer closer , to watch the sky compliment the tops of buildings in a most lovely harmony.

I did eventually get coffee and even sleep later, but one came much before the other and there were still things to see here.

~m

Why are the Coffee Cups So Small?- The Rhode Island Tale

Slices, who needs slices?Starwar games in Newportthe whole pie, Newport RIIn Newport, we Sleep
Ms fables and coffee (red hair back then)
Houses all in a row, Newport RITiny, tiny coffee cupsFish and chips in Rhode Island
Lovely Walls in Newport RI
The Cliffwalk, Newport RI
Lets sit for a bit, Rhode Island
Cliffwalk, Newport, RI
The Breakers
Newport Streets, rain and more rain

The nicest starbucks we visited

The story, when it comes to Rhode Island, could be summed up in two words. Rain being the first, and coffee being the last.  We drove into Rhode Island with grey clouds hanging low, crossing state lines with no fanfare, something wicked playing on the radio and coffee buzzing in our veins. Our slightly-not-too shady motel was at least a step up from what Kat would forever after fondly call the “hookerville” hotel we had come across in our venture in Connecticut and there was a tiny local pizza joint down the road called Kingston Pizza that was just short of magnificent but landed squarely on down-right-amazing. We ate sprawled out on our beds, greasy napkins littering the floor, our limbs a little too exhausted for exploration. I remember we watched the sky get stained a brilliant color as the sun set and hoping against hope that it wouldn’t rain the next day.

( we woke up to a steady drizzle )

The photos I posted earlier of the stormy beach  scene area were taken there in Newport, just before the rain began to truly pour down. We parked at the beach because there was absolutely no parking anywhere near the city center and we wandered back up into town mumbling like zombies, searching desperately for the smell of coffee. We almost stopped at Dunkin Donuts because we had very literally gotten coffee at Dunkin Donuts in pretty much every single state we had been in and it was almost instinct at that point, but decided against it because….actually I can’t remember why we decided against it but instead we ended up at a place called Annie’s instead. Lovely little cafe restaurant, no bad words against it except…. they literally had the smallest coffee cups I have ever seen, to the point where I wanted to ask our waitress if we could perhaps just get bowls instead, because dear gods my dear, this is not nearly a big enough container. But instead of appearing like a raging coffee monster, I sipped my coffee politely, left a good tip and then went off to explore the surrounding streets a little before it really started raining.

Our true caffeine quota was eventually met when me and Kat ended up huddled in the most gorgeous of all Starbucks just before we left Newport to set off for Boston, dripping cold water onto the hardwood floors while watching the rain get heavier and heavier. We had a drive to make though, as much as we would have wanted to stay, and I remember that when we stood up to make our way back to our car a stranger sitting at a nearby table said “You sure you want to go out there?” and we both shrugged and laughed, because it’s not like we could have stayed in Newport forever. Tiny little streets, narrow alleyways that should not be called streets, houses scrunched up against each other, a greyscale rainbow splashed out across the harbor. Newport was lovely, even in the torrential rain.

~m