Day 13: Slam Sesh #1

When times are particularly challenging, I find a lot of comfort and release in writing. Which is why this blog is rather a good catharsis. However, aside from from blogging, I love writing short essays, stories/plays, and poetry. Today I started working on two new pieces. Yes, I spend my saturdays indoors writing poetry... So I decided to make today's post more of a poetry-slam session. 

Here goes!

This one I wrote a while ago but decided to share it...

"My Faucet"

When I'm in my room all alone,
I turn on my faucet and let it run
Down my face,
With water now it won't leave a trace.

When I'm in my room all alone,
I turn on my faucet and let it run
So no one can tell,
If it was just water or a tear that fell.

When I'm in my room all alone,
I turn on my faucet and let it run
In my eyes.
It's no surprise
That with my faucet
No one can see me, or hear my cries. 

Here is one I was working on today, it's untitled for now...

I held my breath the other day
To see if I could keep it forever.
I held my breath to see if I may
Hold you in me just for forever.

I inhaled you like smoke
Letting you spread through me,
Drinking from my pipe of
Those moments spent in love
With you. You were a sweet
Burning in me.
Awaiting only the time we would meet,
And I would be with you, you see.

But I was drowning in you.
Lungs burning,
Your sweetness killing me–slowly.
I need to let go, but I need you too.

With a heavy heart, I release you from me.
I exhale you, and I breathe in reality.
Because keeping you is toxic–
A captive bird dies,
But in me still, I can see your eyes.

You were like a breath, in a way.
As soft as the wind.
As redolent as the smell of roses
In spring. And as gone as yesterday.
You were like a breath.

And yes, I still love you darling.
I love you to death. 

Hope you enjoyed that. Anyways, today I did get a chance to venture out into the world a bit. I went to an old record store in Leucadia, Lou's, today to buy a new record for my record player that I just discovered how to work. I was looking for a Frank Sinatra album (I am a dear fan of Sinatra) but the store didn't have any today. So I bought a Beatles album instead–With the Beatles. In my opinion, you can never go wrong with the Beatles. Upon arriving home and setting the needle to the first song, I was surprised to by how many of the songs I had forgotten about. Though I had heard all the songs on the album before, many of them just.. slipped from my prefrontal cortex. Kind of like the way items of clothing that hang in the back corner of your closet get less noticed–less used. The older songs of the Beatles seemed to be hanging in the back corner of my memory. But they were still there, of course. And as each song played through once–then a second time, I realized that everything I am feeling is okay. That "It Won't Be Long" before I am feeling good again. Yeah, "it won't be long" until things are right again. The latter part of my day was spent thrifting with my friend. We went to Encinitas and checked out Thrifty Threads, Home, and Flashbacks. I bought a new vest at Flashbacks that I look forward to sharing with you soon. Afterwards, we had dinner at one of my favorite mostly vegetarian/vegan food places, Lotus Cafe. 

Weeds learn to be resilient because people think they're ugly. 

Top: Forever 21, Skirt: American Apparel, Socks: Forever 21, Doc Martens, DIY bow

Today's outfit included a three-quarter sleeve printed shirt, denim circle skirt, brown knee socks, and Doc Martens. What I like about this outfit was that the style, color, and prints were fitting for spring but the outfit was still comfortable in the 68 degree weather today. The quarter sleeves and high socks allowed for more coverage–thus keeping me warmer and allowing me to wear a skirt that is perfect for spring. The light-wash style of the skirt and the soft colors of the shirt were vert fitting for today's sunny, blue-sky day. The Doc Martens gave a nice "pop" to the outfit. The cherry color stood out against the spring and neutral colors. 

Thanks for reading, don't forget to follow me on Instagram and Twitter! New pictures are posted daily. And be sure to check back each night/morning for a new post from your one and only unnaked girl. 

Instagram: @anotherdayunnaked

Twitter: @sienamarilyn

Love to hear your thoughts, so comment away!

Day 12: The Worst is Yet to Come!

I feel the worst kind of loss is the kind when the person is not actually gone. When they are still there; in your life. You see them–on occasion.. daily. The loss is not their absence from your life. Rather the loss grows from the disintegration of connection. The loss comes from learning to unknow someone. Learning to walk by the person who you used to confide–the person who knows everything about you, the person who you know everything about–like you have never seen them before in your entire life. Just another face in a crowded hall during passing period. Another name popping up on your newsfeed on Facebook. No history, no loss, no pain. But you don't really realize the loss until you look back at those old photos, the birthday cards, the videos; the moments. When every memory is heightened–in your senses and in your heart–that it feels like that those moments are still as close as yesterday. It's when you look at these things and you realize that something–time or life or you–got in the way of ever going back to that time. That this time is different from any other rough patch you have gone through with this person. But the pain doesn't come until you understand that what was, is not and can longer be what is. And when you are too afraid–too afraid of to say the unsettling words that break the silence, too afraid to even say "Hi"–you have let them go for good. You just let them slip away, even though it is not what you wanted. That's when you know you have lost someone. When the thought of ever reconciling the connection is too unthinkable. That, I know all too well, is loss. There was once a line I heard on TV that I always remember when things have gone terribly wrong. It was "some things are just worth fighting for". I can't remember where its from or who said it, but I always have that stuck in the back of my head when I feel as though I should give up, move on, let go. Let go. I have a hard time letting go. And somethings, I just can't let go. Even after time or life or me has gotten in the way, and even though I am afraid, I'll speak the unsettling words. And even if in vain, at least I'll know I did everything I could to fight for it. Fight for that friendship we once had. I'll fight for you.

"It's always darkest before the dawn"

Overalls: Anthropology 

There is a line by one of my favorite contemporary authors, Elizabeth Gilbert, that I feel best describes the past–give or take–fourteen months. It was a line from her famous book, Eat Pray Love, in which she quotes her own friend who said often times, "things get a whole lot worse before they get worse". It feels as though that line sums up these past months in a nutshell. I have grown though, and I've lost, cried, lied, and wanted to die. And now I just feel like a terrible country-western song. And keep thinking that things are going to turn around, they just have to, something's going to change, it's going to get better. And in my defense, what else can I think? I would like to think I've hit an all-time low recently–or at least I hope. I have a good friend who would always tell me "Cheer up! The worst is yet to come!" At this point–now–I truly hope that "the worst" has finally come. That I–Sisyphus–have rolled my rock down to the very bottom. And now, there is no where else to go, but up. (Until, of course, the rock rolls down again.) Today's outfit was probably one of the most minimalistic pieces I have put together. All I wore was my pair of overalls. That's all. No shirt, nothing with it. And I did this, I think, to symbolize what I wanted today–a simple, fresh start... again. A new beginning. With my heart still maimed from my broken dreams, I wanted to wear something freeing and exposing to let every part of my body feel open. Open to the sun, to the world, to a new chance. Also, there is something very comforting about a pair of overalls. Something very simplistic and wholesome.. its hard to describe. But when I wear my overalls, I always feel at home.

Things will turn around for me. I know it. At this point it is all a matter of time. Something big is coming for me. After all, "it's alway darkest before the dawn". - Florence and the Machine

Day 11: This One's for C

This post isn't going to be much. I've had a pretty hard night. Not only because I closed the door on yet another chapter of my life, but also because I was rejected from three of my top choice colleges. And so today found me standing at the point where the waves break in the ocean. Each wave not only pushing me back to shore but crashing down on top of me, pulling me down–pulling my heart down. I look back today and think–a year ago, so many things were different. A year ago today, things were a lot different. A year ago today, I had one more year. One more year at this school, one more year of cheer. And although so many times I would complain about practice or having games on days when I had shows, I'm really going to miss those moments with my team–my second family. I'm going to miss the lights. I'm going to miss how the turf smelled like hot tar during summer practices and how the little beads from the field travelled all the way into my bed at night. I'm going to miss the bus rides to away games and on home nights, the way it felt standing in the middle of the field for the national anthem. Total stillness would settle over us, until the moment when we would raise our poms to the dark sky following the words "...and the home of the brave". I bet from above, it looked like two streams of endless gold. But above all, however, above even these moments, I'm going to miss my cheer coach–Coach C–the most. This post is for Coach really. If he ever reads this, I hope he knows how thankful I am for his presence in my life. Though I've only known him for three years, he taught me the most. I look to him as my second dad. He is the person I turn to when I just need someone. I don't even have to say anything, he just knows. And he lets me know that I'm okay, you know. That what matters most is what matters to me–and that I matter. He always told me, "Just keep smiling, never loose that smile." And so many times, it is hard to remember that when my mind is taking me somewhere else. But he was always there, and he would tell me, "Just keep smiling." Of all the people in my life, I feel he understands me in a way that most people don't. In a way that words are meaningless. He is to me–like I said–a second dad. Someone I know, at the end of the day, really does care about me; and wants me to be happy. Coach C gave me the courage to make the changes that I needed to make in my life; changes that have led me to where I am today. Because a year ago, things were a lot different. A year ago today, I was afraid–afraid of the future, afraid of my past, and afraid of me. Today–I'm still afraid– afraid of the regrets I carry with me and afraid of the future that lies in a fog ahead. But I'm not afraid of me. I am stronger now than I was a year ago. I'm confident. I'm independent. I am courages. Courage. In that word–courage–there is a "C". And as long as I have that courage, I guess I'll always have my "C". 

Today at my final cheer banquet marked the end of a chapter in my life. Though I didn't really realize it while it was here, I am thankful for cheer because it was a constant in my life. Something that was always there. A commitment to the team and to myself. And for that, I'll always be grateful; and I'll always remember.

Same day, 3 years later

Sweater: Nordstroms, Shoes: Aldo, Flower crown: Etsy

Senior gifts at the banquet

Me and C

Some of my favorite ladies right here

Going to really miss them...

Like I said, today's post wasn't much on fashion. I'm tired (if you know what I mean). And I don't have much else to say. But, I guess that's okay. Tomorrow will come and with it, the promise of a new beginning, and the chance to turn everything around again. But for now, I think it's time to say goodbye to today. Until tomorrow...

Day 10: I Hate Shopping

As much as I love fashion and creating new outfits, there is one thing about the whole process that always deters me.. shopping. I realize the logic behind this doesn't make much sense as I love getting new clothes. But it is the physical action of shopping that makes my head begin to pulse–hot and heavy with blood. It is the walking, the way that the mirrors and lighting in the dressing rooms always make you look five pounds heavier and sickly pale, the ever-so-kind-but-oh-so-irritating salesperson who is always trailing your beeline path like a hawk, the hangers, the sizes that hurt your eyes, and the decisions–oh, the decisions. The decisions that leave you contemplating for seconds that turn into minutes and then soon enough the store is closing and you still haven't decided between a green jacket and yet another green jacket. I approach a day at the mall the same way I approach long distance running. I carbo-load the night before, do some warm-up quick changes in preparation for the dressing rooms, make sure I'm hitting the shops at a steady pace to ensure I get everything done efficiently and in a timely manner, and above all else, I take on the feat with same sort of just-got-to-get-it-over-with mindset. However the process of shopping itself is much like a five act play. Act One finds me light-of-heart and fresh; I bound into the nearest store with the confidence that I'll walk back out in a matter of twenty minutes or so with exactly what I need. In Act Two, my bright dreams are dimmed as I approach my fifth store still empty-handed. In the third act of my day at the mall, I am suddenly rejuvenated and I bounce from rack to rack, attempting to carry my weight in fabric. The curtain lifts to reveal me curled in the fetal position on the floor of a dusty dressing room. My failed attempts of success crumpled and strewn around me like used paper napkins as I am too hypoglycemic to replace them onto their proper hangers. The final act–Act Five–always goes one of two ways: either I drag myself empty-handed and starving back to my car to cry about my inability to look good in anything–the worst of all tragedies. Or this play suddenly becomes a comedy as I find what it was I had come for in a matter of seconds and laugh to myself about the meltdowns that have now become a thing of the past. Regardless of the final outcome of my day at the mall, I always leave feeling like an old worn sweater; one that is in need of a wash and requires a good nine days before being worn again. 

Follow me into the woods little flower child..

Shirt: Tilly's, Shorts: Forever 21, Jacket: Forever 21, Socks: Rite Aid, Shoes: Aldo

Today's outfit features a new shirt that I bought during my excursion at the mall today. It is a black tank top with a printed yellow sunflower that I found when I was trying to help my friend put together a "Siena-worthy" outfit for her. I paired the top with my denim shorts from Forever 21 and green jacket (also Forever 21). I chose my black heeled boots and black sheer knee-socks to compliment the black in the shirt. I liked this outfit today because it balanced my softer style with my more edgy style. While there are many days that I dress bohemian and soft and many days when my style is more vintage and edgy, there are rather few days when I combine the two styles. I feel today's outfit did a good job mixing the two styles–giving my usual bohemian look a harder edge–darker. 

Here is a little poem I wrote on Tuesday that I wanted to share. Still working on the rest of it, but I hope you enjoy this excerpt:

You are my thoughts when I am not 
Thinking–and thinking of you again and–
Again my heart plays the theft
Still–When your eyes,
Your smile, 
Your words,
Your touch,
Are all gone. 
A while? 
Now love is all that’s left.


Keep reading, keep enjoying, keep commenting.
Keep on keeping on. Until tomorrow... you know. 

Day 9: Where is the LOVE?

Awaking this morning, I had no idea of the major current events taking place today. Considering I don't have cable television nor am I an avid paper reader, I am always a little behind in the news world. And as a result, I happened to miss the memo to change my Facebook picture to a red square with two pink rectangles in parallel horizontally. Checking my Facebook this morning, my newsfeed was littered with tiny red and pink square pictures–all of which, at the time I had no idea of the significance. I later looked it up to see what this trend was all about only to discover two things: one, I really need to get cable again and two, today marked an important day for the LGBTQ community in America as two important Supreme Court cases went up regarding the legalization of gay marriage. Although, in the past I had never taken an active stance on this subject, today felt compelled to tell the world my thoughts–how I see it. With a red and pink picture displaying now on my personal Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter, I want to say that I disagree with what some of my Catholic up brings have taught me. I don't believe that legalizing gay marriage will make marriage between a man and a woman any less sacred nor do I believe–I cannot believe–that someone who is a good person can be "damned to hell" for loving someone else. Love is the basis of what marriage should be–what life should be. But today and every coming day towards us, it feels like love is a lost idea from a distant past. Gay people marrying isn't what makes marriage lose the value; the lose of love is what makes the idea of marriage weak–meaningless. Over 50% of marriages end in divorce. I can testify to this statistic. I have witnessed firsthand the crumbling of two marriages in my lifetime. It's not gender that makes something sacred, it's love. And when love is lost, meaning is lost. When love is lost meaning is lost. And when meaning is lost, we are lost. And I feel that is a good way to describe much of America today. We are lost. We want something–we want change, we want tradition, we want equality, we want peace, we want war, we want independence. We want... we want love. We want the ability to feel welcomed in the world. We want to be remembered. We want someone to be there in the darkness when we feel alone. We want to be loved and we want to love. We want love above everything else. Love is what should be in the minds of the people today. Because love is not just a feeling–it's an action. And if we act love, maybe one day we won't have to act, we will just feel it–feel love again. And remember, a little message from me, don't do things that impede upon others' ability to love. Any love given into the world is love that can and will return to each and every one of us. So stop the hate... not the love.

For the love of Dog!

Shirt: Flashbacks, Tights: Rite Aid, Skirt: don't remember it's origin (sorry!), Shoes: Urban Outfitters

Today's outfit featured one of my favorite tops and my old "dream shoes"–black-heeled oxfords that I got from Urban Outfitters after trying to find a pair of heeled oxfords for a very long time. I thrifted (before it was cool) the shirt around the same time I got the shoes and I have had the black pencil skirt for a while so there was nothing really new about today's outfit. Wearing the pink and white polka-dotted top always makes me feel like I've gone back to the 50s. Of my outfits this is one of of my more "normal" ones. Primarily because of its simplicity. Regardless of its normality, I still love the look–the black is slimming and sleek and the heels with the tights make my short legs feel just a little bit taller. 

Keep reading guys, much appreciated! 

P.S. My stated thoughts earlier are my personal opinions. None of which are intended to offend anyone. I am always open to learning new ideas and perspectives. I am not dogmatic and I'm always looking to grow. 


And always remember, 

"Measure your life in love". - Jonathan Larson

Day 8: If the River Dries Up/Falling

A close friend and avid-reader of my blog asked me today if I was worried that I would run out of ideas to blog about over the course of the next 357 days. And for a minute, I thought about it. I considered the idea–the idea of using up my "insightful epiphanies" and this blog flaming out before it had a chance to grow. Before I began blogging, I used to journal everyday. And it would not matter if I had absolutely nothing to say that day, I always found myself filling countless pages of anything–thoughts, ideas, nothing at all. I still journal frequently–not as much as I'd like though. My point is, and to answer this question, I don't think I ever could run out of ideas because I cannot and will never stop thinking. This quality about me is actually quite detrimental–I have a hard time stilling my mind. And so as long as my mind keeps going as it does, I should always have new ideas, new thoughts, new discoveries each day. As these things–these ideas, thoughts, and discoveries–are what make up experiences and experiences make up a lifetime. And so I think if we ceased to think, to feel, to discover, we would cease to live. I spent some time looking back at my past journal entries. I find it interesting to look at what I'm writing about now and compare it to what I was writing about then. See what's the same, what's different. I found this passage that I wrote, 

"In life we are always falling. The only time we stand on solid ground is in birth and in death. It is interesting to look at life as the vast space that lies between the bottom ground and the cliff where you stand at the beginning of your life. And the time spent free-falling in the air is our lifetime and what we do midair determines our experience. We can fall off the cliff with fear or completely free. But regardless, the end is the same. Whether you danced in the air or stared back at the ledge where you once stood, the end is still the same–ground.. death. There is no avoiding that. After all, gravity makes it impossible for us to fall up."

I wrote that over a year ago. And it's intrigues me to see how much I live like the latter–looking back at the cliff where I once stood. Believe me, I am trying. I'm really trying to let go. To "dance" midair. Because I know that it is the only way to fall before I die. 

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far from the Tree

DIY headband and t-shirt, Tights: Rite Aid, Shorts: American Apparel, Cardigan: Forever 21, Doc Martens

Close up of the shirt

While on the subject of falling, today's outfit has been entitled the classic cliche, "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree". This is in honor of the t-shirt that I wore today which was custom designed for me for my sixteenth birthday. For my surprise sixteenth birthday party, my mom and my good friend had planned a scavenger hunt party for me where everyone had to create a shirt that had a fact or memory about me. One of my friends who I ate lunch with almost everyday created a shirt with a stitched apple on the front and the words "...eats applesauce for lunch everyday at school" written around the it. Which is entirely true. My junior year, I had a food-obsession with those little applesauce packets you get at Trader Joe's. While I loved all the shirts I was given, this one always stuck out because of the detail and creative design. So I keep it in my closet with the rest of my clothes. This same friend also made me the headband I am wearing in the photo of the day. I don't see her much anymore, but when I wear this outfit I remember when our group of friends used to hang out at lunch altogether last year. I wore my favorite high-waisted shorts with black sheer tights and a yellow cardigan on top; Doc Martens completed the outfit. I love this outfit because it shows how you don't have to buy something new to make a nice outfit. You can create something or find an old t-shirt that once meant a lot to you and create something new out of it. It doesn't matter really. It's all in how you pair the piece with the rest of what you are planning to wear. Once school finally settles down, I plan on creating a bunch of new t-shirt creations that I will wear on the blog.

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. Until tomorrow... goodnight.

Day 7: "With an Open Palm"

This morning's SRF service, was about giving love. The speaker made an interesting analogy. He said that when your prayers and meditations are focused on looking for an answer, it is like you are clenching your fist with the intent of receiving. However, if you give with an open palm–give and think of love in your prayers and meditations–it is much easier to receive. In simple terms, you cannot receive what you truly need with a closed fist. I spent some time meditating upon this idea and thought about how it is relevant to me. In meditation, I came up with this poem and thought I'd share it with you as a part of my blog for the day. It's just something small and still a work in progress, I love feedback if you have any.

"With an Open Palm"

With a clenched fist, I took a piece of you 

From the day we parted. 

It was just a little piece, so you never knew.

Eye squinched,

Face pinched,

And clenched fist to my little heart,

Too afraid that letting that part

Of you go would mean forgetting.

Forever loosing,

The love I once felt with such happiness.

Without a chance to ever confess 

That you have been my reason to live– 

My reason to give

Life a chance and wanting nothing more than to

Dance with you in my arms–Time finally on our side. 

So I held that piece 

Of you 

Like sand in my fist, you kept slipping through

My fingers. And my clenched fist

Had no bearing on the day when I just missed

You, by a moment.

And so tonight, my love, I release–

With an open palm,

I send all my love to you.

With the only hope that someday, 

You just might see me, and love me too.

And the Waves Just Keep Crashing Down onto the Beach

Top: Forever 21, Sweatpants: Pink Zone, DIY decorated knock-off Toms (not photographed): Rite Aid

I hope you enjoyed that brief interlude. Aside from this little glimmer of inspiration, my day was quite uneventful and boring. I spent the entire day doing physics and I'm still knee-deep in homework. Tomorrow marks the first day of "Insanity" workout hell-month (AKA Month Two). And yes, that was month, not week–month.

My DIY knock-off decorated Toms that I made with acrylic paint.

They feature an "ohm" symbol and a lotus flower.

Today's photo sums up what I feel Sunday should be like. Although most of the time it is get-your-shit-together-day. But regardless, Sunday to me is the day that is the most refreshing. After service in the morning, I always leave feeling peaceful, relaxed, and with a sense that I can conquer the coming week just fine. And before settling for a long day of numbers and optics with my main physics buddy, I stopped by Del Mar to pick up a sandwich from Board and Brew and to look at the ocean. Just seeing the ocean, hearing the waves, watching surfers bob up and down over the swells, brings me this serene feeling that is missing so often in my life. It makes me feel safe. And so I took my picture of the day there–on one of the cliffs above the shoreline, just a little south of 15th Street. I was wearing what I consider a perfect Sunday outfit. It was comfortable and refreshing. I wore one of my favorite tops–a beautiful, flowing lace piece that I got at the Forever 21 in New York las spring, my favorite grey, tie-dye sweatpants, and DIY decorated knock-off Toms. Not much too it but, but it really captured the essence of what I think Sunday should be. The photo is Sunday. It is what I want my Sundays to be in the future–my peace days. The days of renewing, creating, and learning. 

Day 6: Answers Only Patience Can Bring

I'm still a little unsure what to make of today. I wouldn't say it was a bad day, nor would I say that it was a good day. But today made me realize something: when there is something in life that is making you hurt, the easiest way–at least for me–to make it go away is to sleep. I remember almost a year ago, when I was going through a particularly hard time in my life, I felt so tired. I felt tired because it was easier to feel tired than to feel the pain. And it was easier to just tell people I was tired, even though I wasn't really tired–I was just hurting. And a dream–even a nightmare–is a much friendlier place than the real world when you are depressed. Because, in a dream, you know it isn't real and because of this, pain–and subsequently joy–is muted just a little. Yes, sleep is a much better option than consciousness when you are depressed. And though I would not call myself depressed anymore, today found me in that kind of dreary and delirious state. I was tired. But no matter how tired you are, you still have to wake up. And I did wake up. At 6:00 AM. On a Saturday. The one day God gives me to actually sleep in. My mom–who is working on a new documentary–and I went to the Blue Sky Ranch in Lake Side for a Spring Equinox labyrinth walk that it was holding. At first, I was not looking forward to this for several reasons; the first being that I was up at an ungodly hour. Also, I just was not feeling well and was just... tired. I was really tired. But I went along and it turned out to be a really interesting experience. While my mom went around getting B-roll for her film and interviewing various people, I was assigned the role of the photographer–as usual. And I don't mind really, I enjoy taking pictures. So my mom, my grandma, and I sat with a small group of people and listened to the owner of the ranch speak about the mystic nature of the labyrinth and its power to help people find clarity in their lives. This particularly intrigued me as I myself have been feeling lost–I guess that's the best term to describe it but it still doesn't feel like it sums up everything. While everyone filed into the labyrinth, I took pictures of people, nature, and this adorable five-year-old girl named Kusumi who I met at the ranch this morning. (I've attached some pictures at the bottom). Once everyone else had gone, including Kusumi, I took the empty moment as an opportunity to walk through the labyrinth myself. I set an intention–something that has been on my mind for a long time–and walked through the stone-lined path. As I rounded each corner–the sound of gravel crunching under my feet similar to the way it sounds when a ballet dancer steps into a box of rosin–I brooded over my intention–waiting for an answer to appear. I thought solely about my intention and was in a sort of trance for sometime. I was almost to the center of the labyrinth when my mom called me and said we needed to leave. At first, I was angered because I never got to the center–I never got my answer. And I left the ranch feeling unfulfilled. As if you were to stop speaking mid-sentence. It wasn't until I got home, and resumed my dreary state that I realized the answer the labyrinth gave me. I was focusing on the wrong thing and whether I got to the center or not, it would not have made a difference because the answer would have been the same. There are somethings you just have to let go of–for forever or maybe just for a while. But asking for when it will return–whatever it is you are waiting for–has an impossible answer. And only patience can give it to you.

When at the ranch, I spent some time exploring the property–enjoying the view and taking pictures of things that I found beautiful. I noticed a large stone cave at the top of a hill and was curious what it was. So I took a trail up to it and later found out it was a meditation cave. I don't remember the whole story behind it, but it had something to do with the "Tree of Life" and the stone cave itself was dedicated to Venus. Thus, it had the sign of the Venus on the front. I brought my grandma up to the cave and asked her to take my picture by it for my photo of the day. And before I left, I went inside the cave. I saw some candles resting on the inner wall. I tried to imagine people before me coming up here to meditate or to just get away from the world for a little while...

Venus, Take Me Home

Shirt: Forever 21, Jeans: Tilly's, Jacket: Forever 21, Shoes: Rite Aid

My outfit for today's day at the ranch included a stolen pair of my mom's old light-washed jeans, my crocheted crop top, army green jacket, and red sneakers. It was simple, but fitting for the outdoors adventures I embarked upon today. I was glad I hadn't worn a long skirt and heels when Kusumi was leading me through overgrown trails. Although, I love wearing crazy stuff that makes me feel unique, I also enjoy wearing simple outfits. Like today. I feel life is about balance. With the crazy, the extreme, you need some sanity, simplicity. And God only knows how badly I need some sanity these days.

Later today, I went with my good friend to the movies to see Side Effects. If you have not seen it yet I highly recommend it. We both loved it–although afterwards he had to explain parts of it to me. (It's a movie you can get lost in pretty easily). The main actors included Rooney Mara from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Jude Law, and Catherine Zeta-Jones. Overall, the acting was very well-done–especially Rooney Mara. The cinematography of the piece was phenomenal and I found the idea behind the plot intriguing and refreshing compared to the countless romantic comedies and books-turned-to-movies that Hollywood has been turning out these days. I won't say anymore because, well, for one its too hard to explain, and also because it is really good and I hope you all go see it.

Although, I still can't say I had a good day today, I won't deny that I had some fun, enlightening, and empowering moments today. And even if it wasn't the best, it was good enough to mean something. If nothing else, there was significance.

Keep reading for more daily posts and I'd love to hear back from you what you think. Until tomorrow, enjoy life and don't be afraid to listen... you know what I mean.

The adorable Kusumi

Kusumi loved the water fountain

Little symbols

I love this color purple

Dawn this morning

Trail up to the cave

The Venus Cave

The labyrinth 

Day 5: And It's Only Day Five...

I am so thankful that today is Friday. This past week has been so long and even though it has only been five days as of today, I already feel the challenge that is sure to increase with each day of creating and writing for this blog. So today found me undeniably exhausted. Whether my extreme exhaustion was from the particularly challenging session of hot yoga yesterday or from last night's cramming session for my AP Literature essay test or from the adjustments I'm making in my daily routine to accommodate my daily blogging, my body today felt completely spent. I felt like a paper bag that has been used one too many times or a pair of stretched out jeans that need to cycle through the washer and dryer once in order to restore to their original shape. Subsequently, upon coming home from school today and after taking my daily photo, I took a nap. And this–taking naps that is–is something most uncommon for me. I have always been the type of person who hates sleeping in the middle of the day. It makes me feel like I am missing out on my life; I am missing the critical daylight hours when the world is active, alive, and moving while I remain unconscious. Although I do enjoy sleep, I find some truth in William Hearst's statement that sleep is practice for when you are dead.

I think I'm finally insane.. and my mind's gone down the drain..

Transformers shirt: Target, Tights: Papaya, Shorts: American Apparel, Doc Martens, DIY bow

Today when trying to decide what to wear, I spent a good portion of my morning trying to find something that I thought looked remotely decent. Do you ever have those days when you try on something like a shirt that you have worn countless times but then today when you try that same shirt on once again you suddenly don't like the way it looks on you? Today was one of those days for me. Article by article of clothing, the contents of my closet were emptied and tossed upon my bed creating a mountainous pile atop crumpled sheets and comforter. Eventually I decided on my long-sleeved Transformers t-shirt that I wore tucked into my favorite pair of high-waisted shorts (the ones with the subtle, white floral pattern from American Apparel). Underneath the the shorts I wore a pair of black, patterned tights and my most favorite shoes of all time: my cherry-red Doc Martens. My love for Doc Martens is like a child's love of ice cream or an alcoholic's love of liquor in the sense that I do anything and everything in my power to wear these shoes all the time. But in all honesty, I had no idea of the existence of Doc Martens until I saw my favorite musical, RENT, for the first time and did extensive research on all the references made in the show. One being Joanne's love of Doc Martens. And it was then that I knew I needed these shoes. The thing that I love most about Doc Martens is that they are durable and well-made. I have many shoes that I have fallen in love with at first sight but so quickly they have all fallen apart on me; and they all leave me barefoot and sole-broken. A Doc Marten is like the sensible, dependable guy that your parents want you to go for. The one you know at the end of the day will be there for you, and not break your heart. With their durability, quirky style, and amazing comfort, I still wonder why so few people wear them. Overall, today's outfit falls under the category of "quirky" outfits I have created. My style in general ranges from a more edgy look to soft bohemian–again, always depending on my mood. I feel the quirky style of today's outfit was fitting because today itself was a bit of a quirky day for me.

On another note, today I found out I have been admitted into Occidental College! Though it is not my top choice, I am seriously considering studying there to pursue acting in Los Angeles.

Thanks for reading today's post. I'm trying to get them done a little earlier for you guys. However, I'm still getting used to my new routine so be patient with me. Keep reading, keep enjoying. Comment or follow me because why not? Stay tuned for tomorrow's post: Day 6 UnNaked.

Day 4: A Constant We Can Keep

At yoga today, I spent a lot of time reflecting. I thought about where I am today–who I am, who my friends are, where I live, the things I love. And then I thought about where I thought I would be today–who I thought I would be, who I thought my friends would be, where I thought I'd be living now, and the things I thought I loved. And I realized that the tragic thing about life is not the pain that we have to endure but rather the process of learning to accept that our idea of what life is, is not at all what we thought. It's the discrepancy between expectation and reality. Without expectation, life would cease to bring us pain. The only reason we feel pain is because we believe so strongly in what we think is supposed to happen. But when life gives us a different path, we feel pain. When you are five, your expectation when learning to ride a bike is that you will be successful; but when you fall and scrape your knee on the rough asphalt you feel pain–physically as well as emotionally. You become afraid. Afraid to reach for expectation and content to settle with reality. And that's really where it begins. When you are young, experience is the next chapter in your life story. All you need, you already have: faith. Faith is what keeps you going. Faith in that beautiful ending that you know is just waiting for you. So you read on, but this book isn't what you thought it was. The picture on the cover doesn't match the story unravelling in front of you. The plot becomes complicated. People die, people cheat each other, and love ends. The nice thing about a book though is that if you don't like the story, you can stop reading. You can stop–mid-sentence, set the book down, and go pick another one. But life doesn't really give you that option. When life gets hard, you don't have the option to live another life for a while until yours gets better. You only get one life, one plot, one book. And a lot of stuff is out of your control. And that is sometimes one of the hardest to accept. It is hard to surrender our control–our expectation. To let whatever happens... happen. However, there are many things in life that we can control and I find that learning to accept this–learning to accept responsibility is what hurts the most. Accepting that our fate is in our control. That what happened that one night could have gone entirely different had you done what you wanted–had you not been afraid. It is living with regret that hurts the most. I guess what I'm getting at is that life is complicated and its messy though I wish it wasn't. And we as people are just trying to live, trying to be happy. And I guess happiness comes from the ability to let go of expectations, embrace reality, let go of fear, and hold onto that faith we once had when we were five. Today I spent a lot of time reflecting. Thinking about me–who I am, who I was, and who I will be someday. Sometimes it feels like there are very few things that are constant in life; something or someone is always changing or leaving and then coming back into our lives. So I feel it is up to us to find something that is constant–something that keeps us grounded. Whether it is exercise daily, writing, or taking some time out of the day to just sit down and watch your favorite TV show just because it makes you laugh, find something that you can call a constant in your life–a gift you gave yourself. For me–for the next 361 days that is–my constant is this, creating art and writing about my life as I see it. Creating new ideas everyday. It is a constant, a challenge, a reason to continue growing and keep going.

The Girl in the Stripped Pajamas

Pants: Pangea, Top: Forever 21, Shoes: Steve Madden, Jacket: Forever 21, DIY Bow

As for today's outfit, I wore a new pair of sheer stripped pants that I bought yesterday at the Pangea attached to the Pannikin coffeehouse in Del Mar. I was attracted to the pants because I saw so many different ways I could wear them: with a loose tank top tucked in, with a crop top, or with a simple cardigan or jacket. I find it rare to find bold pieces that are also versatile and so I was very thankful that I found this pair. I was eager to wear them today for my next post. I paired the pants with my crocheted white crop top and white Steve Madden heals. I tried to keep the upper half of my outfit more simple–solid and lighter colors–because the pants are already so busy. What I really loved about today's outfit was that it was super comfortable. My new pants are soft, light, and loose and so today's outfit wasn't one of those ones that I was dying to finally get out of at the end of the day. When creating an outfit, I consider my biggest success to be when I create an outfit that I don't want to take off–when creativity mixes with comfort. With this in mind, today's outfit was a huge success.

Life for me is changing so fast it's hard to believe. With graduation soon approaching and final college decisions being sent out as I type this post, I feel, now more than ever before, I am going to need a constant. Something I can turn to at the end of the day that doesn't change. And so for me, my constant will just be another day unnaked. Keep following, keep commenting. I'll be here.

Day 3: It Was Red (this is not a Taylor Swift song)

Unlike my more thought-provoking introductions, I choose to write about something more pressing in my current life. Or perhaps pressing is the wrong word here. It's more like throbbing. Yes, throbbing is right. And so I should preface this post by familiarizing you with my accident-prone nature. I am and forever will be a klutz. Bumps on sidewalks and sharp corners continuously take victory against my soft flesh leaving me alone with the bluish-black feeling of internal bleeding. Rest assured, however, these daily challenges don't keep me from going out and living my life. My klutziness hasn't gotten me killed yet... Or so I thought. There I was at the top of the staircase at my house thinking this would be just your typical trip down to the first floor. In simple terms, wood floors + shoes with very little traction + me = new way of traveling down the stairs: sideways. I took my first step and the next thing I knew I was on the landing, face on the floor, arms flailed, and my bare shin slammed into the sharp corner of the metal post attached to the railing. Cold wood, hot blood, the smell of dust... And then there was pain. It was a kind of pain that possesses your body so quickly you have no idea of its existence until it's too late; you just have to sit there and wait for it to finally exit your body, leaving you a heap of lifeless exhaustion. It's the pain that leaves you with the heartbreaking thought of the discrepancy between your life now and your life two seconds ago. And then there was red. A deep crimson darker than the dress I wore today. Crimson. And I wasn't sure if it was the actual pain spreading through my body or the sight of my olive skin turning a violet-fusia color that provoked me to scream; scream and cry. And I cried like it was the first time I ever felt pain. The kind of cry that turns your face into a work by Jackson Pollock and leaves your throat feeling dry and raw. It was the type of cry that makes you cry more just from hearing the sound of your own voice–broken. The last time I remember crying like this was the first time I got stung by a bee. It wasn't so much the pain of the poison in my palm that hurt but rather the inability to comprehend, the lack of reason. I wanted a "why" but life just gave me an "is". I'm not sure how long I stayed there on the floor of my landing. It was long enough for the pain that consumed my leg to be replaced with the tingling sensation that comes when proper circulation is hindered. It was then that I decided that my future home will be designed similar to that of a padded cell.

Halvsies?

Skirt: Nordstroms, Belt: Papaya, Boots: Marshall's, Vest: Forever 21, Necklace: Forever 21

I like to think that we live in a balanced world and that when something terrible happens to you something good will follow–or at least it should. And it turns out that when God pushes you face-first down a flight of stairs, He provides you with tickets to Coachella. So now my good friend and I get to spend spring break in Indio for the best music festival ever! (I still find it a little unfair that I had to suffer cuts and bruises for these tickets and she got them without a scratch...) Regardless, April should bring awesome music fest outfits. As for today's outfit, I took an idea from a good friend of mine and wore my red "high-low" skirt as a dress. To give it shape, I took an elastic belt and fastened it around my ribs. The new "dress" was not very busy so I wore an elaborate golden beaded necklace to give it more life. To finish, I wore a floor-length crocheted vest to hide the clasps in the back of the belt and calf-length, brown, cowboy boots (which I won't be wearing again for a long time). The colors of this outfit reminded me of the leaves in the fall–red and brown. Even though spring is officially here, I find it fitting to wear fall colors during this time of year. I think of it like complementary colors. With the bright green grass and light pink flowers blooming everywhere you look, it's nice to see a little red–a remembrance of the autumn time. Wearing this outfit today made be feel very innovative. Though I have worn this skirt countless times in many different ways, I never thought to try it like this. It is that feeling–the feeling of innovation–that I love most about creating new outfits. And with my goal in mind, it will challenge me to always strive to be innovative, unconventional, and creative.

Follow me for posts each day about life, ideas, and fashion!

Day 2: Do-Over Day

Tuesdays. Although, I have never been one to complain about Tuesdays, I can't help but feel a bit of empathy for those who dislike them today. With tests prep to for, books to read, outfits to create, and of course acceptance letters to stress over, I too feel I have joined the club of Tuesday Hatred. I just want this day to be over. Someone once told me that their reason of disliking Tuesday was because there really was no redeeming quality about it. And if you think about it, it's true. Tuesday is like the spare day that God created just incase He lost one. In the span of a week, each day fulfills a specific purpose with the exception of Tuesday. On Monday we still feel the remaining excitement permeating from the weekend, Wednesday signifies the climax of a long week, Thursday's you're almost there, and of course there is Friday and the remainder of the weekend. I'm thinking now about the blissful eternity that Friday promises. On Friday you feel as though you have just finished a marathon. You have crossed the finish line and you are done. And with the promise of a weekend leaves you feeling as though you have all the time in the world to do anything–or rather, to do nothing. But just as quickly as Friday came comes Sunday, then the monotony we call life resumes again on Monday and then it is Tuesday again. Tuesdays. Today is Tuesday. Tuesday is still the beginning. And I guess the promise that Tuesday always keeps is the chance for a do-over. No matter how bad Monday was, the promise of Tuesday remains to give us a chance to reverse the course of our week and make it better. Tuesday is still the beginning. Tuesday is a new beginning. And today is Tuesday.

Atop of Ol' Bruce

Maxi-skirt from NYC, Top: Forever 21, Sandals: Aldo, Tan belt, Denim Jacket (not photographed): Forever 21

On most days, I often play favoritism with the days of the week. Often times I save my better outfits that I have created for Thursdays and Fridays and thus wear my less creative outfits on the preceding days; Tuesday being the day I spend the least amount of time on for reasons explained earlier. For instance, on any given day I may be trying on an outfit and find myself thinking, "Oh, this is amazing I'll save it for Friday!" But with my goal in mind and my new view on Tuesday, I'm taking it upon myself to no longer "save" certain outfits for my favorite days but rather continuously try to out-do my outfits as each day progresses. Thus, my style will continuously be evolving, expanding, and improving. So today–Tuesday–I wore what I would consider a "Friday-worthy" outfit, which included my favorite maxi-skirt, loose crocheted mid-length T-shirt, light-wash denim jacket, feather sandals, and a tan belt. Unlike my Monday's outfit, today was much more loose, flowing, and colorful. As referenced at least four times today at school, I looked like a "fiesta". In a sense, I wore this outfit today for that particular reason. Well, not to look like a "fiesta" but to brighten my mood, to evoke happiness from the outside inward. In particular, this maxi-skirt brings me happiness–a simple kind of happiness, the kind you feel when you find a dandelion that still has all of its seeds attached to it. I bought this skirt my junior year over spring break when I was in New York City–a place I hope to return to and reside someday. I bought it from a street-vendor for a pretty cheap price; I remember seeing it and immediately falling in love with the wild tie-dye-like pattern and bright colors. It reminded me of a sunset in August. And today when I wear this skirt I remember the first day I saw it almost a year ago. It takes me back to the place I someday will return to one day and it brings me happiness–from the outward in.

Keep reading my blog for more posts on my thoughts, stories, ideas, and outfits. Day 2 is through, but my journey has only begun. Keep reading, keep commenting, and above everything stay UnNaked.

P.S. Follow me on Instagram!! AnotherDayUnNaked :)

Day 1: Starting Fresh

Although I have attempted blogs in the past, I consider this blog and this post to be my real first attempt at entering the world of blogging. So I commence this entry–my first day of my year-long challenge–with a new day, a new week, a new season. This is my attempt to start fresh with my life and document it through my clothing each day. However, in spite of my wanting to start a new chapter in my life, a part of me cannot and will not let go of what "starting new" means I leave behind. With the coming spring brings forth many moments that I am afraid to leave behind so soon. Though it has been a year–and in some instances more–my heart still feels and believes in a past that was once only yesterday to me. Close enough that I could still see it from the rearview mirror of my dying Jeep. Time is a fickle thing, it really is. We know time; we know that in time there are seconds that pass by as quickly as a breathe and those seconds turn into hours and hours into days and days into weeks and weeks into months and soon enough, a year has gone by. How do you measure a moment though? How much time passes before a moment–that last as long as you can still feel it–becomes a memory? Just a glimmer from the past. And how long before we forget? Time keeps going but we can be stuck in moments for a lifetime. Do we know when a moment finally passes? Or does it just go without any conscious thought or feeling towards its passing...

Today I wore an old Mötley Crüe T-shirt that I cut to look like a loose-fitting tank top. I got this shirt earlier this year for my homecoming dance which was themed, "Rock of Ages" and although I have an appreciation and general liking of almost all types and eras of music, 80s rock is not my particular forte. Though I have worn this shirt many times in the past, I never really took the time to ever research–let alone listen to–the band that I endorsed on my chest. Today at Von's, the cashier asked me what my favorite song was. He proceeded to look at me like I was an idiot when I was unable to name even a single song. Thus, I began my research and though research, I stumbled upon a song that resonated with me: "Home Sweet Home". Of course I have heard this song before, but today I listened to it again in attempt to familiarize myself with just a little piece of this iconic band. A particular lyric really caught my attention, it was: "my heart's like an open book for the whole world to read". What intrigued me about this line was that it is the exact opposite of me. My heart is something I have always guarded with the most security I can conjure. But this line means a lot to me because it is something I have always wanted to be–honest. Anyway, the moral of my story is: if you are going to wear a shirt that displays something you know absolutely nothing about, be prepared for the guy selling you spaghetti and pasta sauce to think you are an idiot. To complete my outfit, I wore an old pair of corduroy mid-waisted shorts (burgundy) with a pair of black sheer tights that I got from Rite-Aid and my black-knock-off-studded-litas-that-I-soon-hope-to-replace-with-the-real-ones shoes. The general color of my outfit ended up being a good representative of my mood today. Darker colors tend to match dimmer spirits...

"When Did Mötley Crüe Become Classic Rock?"

Vintage Top, Shorts: Forever 21, Tights: Rite-Aid, Shoes: Aldo, DIY Bow

Today marks Day 1. I am 1/365th of the way through my challenge–less than half of a percentage. And although my heart is still learning to let go of what was, my mind, body, and determination is pushing me forward and soon, I shall be not ahead of time nor behind it. I'll be with it–for once in my life.