THE CUT.

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THE CUT.

Photos by Shannon Griffin

sweater and denim provided by Hattie Sparks, vintage T, get your own below

“The only way to find true happiness is to risk being completely cut open.” ― Chuck Palahniuk, Invisible Monsters

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I woke up today and it occurred to me:

a. How in the f did we land here?

A year ago this time I was planning my Hangout festival road trip. Packing for my summer in Spain. All of life was moving.

Life. fucking. changing.

And in that thought this morning, I stepped outside on my little lanai in Honolulu AND spinning through my brain: "how in the world did I land here?"

And with such major gratitude I put my cut-wide-open-heart out there on the lanai and let it absorb it all.

b. The second thing that occurred to me, in that moment, is

I am (not just my heart) in fact, cut wide open.

I can't remember allowing that. Ever. And the way that feels is beyond explanation. And I mean, beyond explanation GOOD.

Un-mess-able with.

Last night I sat on the beach, listened to Kanye's 808s & Heartbreak, drank a little too much sake and all of a sudden a gypsy girl named Asia landed on my blanket. She wanted to chat art, and love. And so, we did.

In the cut this moment keeps happening. THEY are landing on my figurative blanket.

and the final occurrence:

c. The people I never expected to show up in my life ARE.

And I imagine it's because of that cut. I've been going to bed at night knowing the deepest connections don't have to be physically close ones, because we're all sleeping under the same moon. It's like inside that cut there's hugs from the sky and the stars.

________

So, separately. These photos. I shot these with Shannon quite a few months back. I've had some weirdness - in my head b.s. - about sharing them. Here's why: Even in two months, it's hard to look back and see the same girl. I moved from that apartment, I can't recall what I was smiling about, I don't feel real.

But the thing is, mostly, Shannon nailed the cut. In these photos I'm open. And right now (like woah) that's alright with me. Personally, and those that know me well know, I have major shit shaking out.

Ok. Mhm. That's happening. And, in living a big life, an un-mess-able with life, who gives a fuck.

It's all good. Two month from now, eventually, I won't even know this girl sitting on the lanai. And that's GOOD. Transform. Daily. Evolve. On the reg.

_________

So here we are: me, in my for-a-moment home in New Orleans. From a diarists perspective, I'm glad those moments were captured.

Have a beautiful, doors open, sunshine in, get in the cut weekend you guys.

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p.s. I'm skipping that Hangout Fest trip this year, but in New Orleans we've got French Quarter Fest, Jazzfest, and a whole summer of adventure to come. I'll be living in vintage T's. Here'a few more favorites if you're into adding a few to your collection.