i am wishing on sunsets & bay leaves
and on substack too, it appears!
it is august and i am wishing on shooting stars! well, more like i am wishing on sunsets—i have only clearly seen stars light up the sky twice in my lifetime, and both times were equally as breathtaking, but i don’t see them enough to actually let wishes fall from my lips and be safely taken in by the universe in that way. though i do whisper wishes to the moon from time to time, another worthwhile companion who keeps my secrets and desires safe.
i know there are superstitions around sharing wishes and them not coming true if proclaimed to others, but i can’t help myself—what is being human if not sharing our truest desires and yearnings with one another? where we see ourselves, what we want the most. so, my dear readers, consider these as more of manifestations, anyway—these are occurrences that i can actually see happening in my life and may already be in store for me (though it is also enjoyable to dream of things that feel so beyond reach, and may not even be as out of reach as we may think, but i will save more of these for a future musing).
today, i moved into my first ever apartment on my own in a wonderful city and i am letting the excitement crash over me like the waves i will miss seeing back here in california (i only went to the beach twice this summer but let’s disregard that). my only worries really consisted and still consist of overworking myself as i unpack (trying really hard not to repeat the instance just two months ago where i almost fainted and my lips lost color while bringing my belongings to my old roommate’s storage unit because it was so hot and i was lugging it all on my own, which my mom and sister still make fun of me for) and bring in some larger pieces of furniture in, but i have had and will have support through this and i am grateful that it won’t only be my own hands on deck. i know it will all work out, and i will cultivate my first ever home. a safe haven where i feel genuinely grateful to return to each day and night, a place where i can welcome my loved ones and do anything to ensure their comfort—somewhere they will anticipate returning to as soon as they leave. i want them all to know that they are always welcome—i really do mean it whenever i say if they ever need anything, even if it’s at 2 am, i am a call or message away, and now i can say that my door will always be open (more like closed and locked until they arrive, as this is basic safety and living in chicago that we’re talking about, but you know what i mean). i will have pastries i’ve just taken right out of the oven at the ready for consumption (my current favorite to make is chocolate chip scones, and i will share the recipe at the end of this piece should you like to make your own!), hot chocolate i’ve just brewed and i will also meticulously pick out a teacup or mug that i think suits them most and it will become their personal one each time they come over, a record spinning that is suited for the moment/mood and the individual, warm lighting filling the space either by candlelight or lamps (no fluorescents in my apartment ever), and of course, my utmost attention, care, and love. i want to be the first person thought of if my loved ones need something and/or need somewhere to escape to, i want my residence to be the first place that pops into their heads. this is already in my future, i truly believe.
with that all being said, i’ve had an exact vision for how i want my apartment to look for quite a while now. i’ve decided months ago that its signature colors will be forest/sage green and gold, with hints of dark brown and black. i want it to feel like a garden getaway, with of course, accents of green and dark academia which will come naturally with my briefcase and blazer hanging from the coat rack, candelabras, journals strewn about, greek/roman bust statues that i will hopefully acquire, and my dearly beloved bookshelf, my own little library (liv’s lovely library in real life!). the bedding i’ve chosen even looks a bit like a flower field and my pillows lining it consist of one with a sketch of the sun on it, mushrooms, and even a jack-o-lantern one for the eternal autumn enjoyer in me. string lights with leaves weaved in between will line the perimeter of my bookshelf just as they did this past year.
on the note of nature, i have also written my wishes on bay leaves. some of my fondest memories, especially over summers and during litha (the midsummer celebration) consist of frolicking in forests i didn’t know existed in my hometown with my friends and picking up piles of these leaves and passing around a singular pen that i’ve owned since elementary school and writing down our recent longings on them. then, we would allow a lighter passed around in one of their families to burn them and also allow the nearby stream to absorb our leaves which carry our dreams. i remember watching intently as tiny ashes dropped to the ground beneath our feet and as the remainder of the leaves floated away, now allowing my yearnings to be safely looked after and even letting them go, yes, dwelling on them does not do, does it?
i shouldn’t share what exactly i imbued onto these leaves (honestly, i only vaguely remember—i’m trusting that the universe will grant these wishes in due time and when they are meant to be, and perhaps may already have done so!), but i can share more of my wishes and wants right here, and i am certain some of these are similar to those anyhow:
—love and laughter to fill my home, my sanctuary
—quite honestly, i haven’t found the best hot chocolate in chicago yet, and i would really like to do so—every time i think i have, i order it again and it is never prepared the same way as it is the first time
—to be filled with so much joy that i can’t help but let tears trickle and stream down my cheeks like waterfalls, and to continue to let myself sob and wallow in my melancholic moments when i need to, though to still dry my tears and keep moving forward (in the wise words of lewis from meet the robinsons, one of my favorite films of all time) when i’m ready to do so
—to live—really, really live. no more autopilot—not that i am often in that mode, but i notice that i tend to be when things start to become more repetitive. i want to find beauty in every single day and in so many moments, even the more mundane ones. i want to find beauty in the mundane and to an extent i already do, but this practice can always advance further
—to have a lovely locket—i’m not quite sure whose portrait, if anyone’s, i would place in it, and/or perhaps i could even find and press a flower tiny enough to reside in it but nonetheless, the physicalization of carrying something or someone i love close to my heart sounds wonderful and i could even rotate the subject out from time to time as i have an abundance of love to give to varying people and things. lockets and rings are my favorite kinds of jewelry
—to escape into the carefully crafted worlds in books even more often than i already do—i am most looking forward to reading sally rooney’s intermezzo (if you’re part of the few who managed to get an advanced reader’s copy, i am so jealous), juneau black’s summer’s end (shady hollow #5, i am forever indebted to lizzie for introducing me to this series), simone weil’s gravity and grace (another special thanks is in order for aidan upon this recommendation), daphne du maurier’s rebecca, charlotte brontë’s jane eyre (a necessary re-read, i was often told in the past that i am so much like jane and my god, i am), franz kafka’s amerika (who’s surprised by this? not a soul, i’m sure), j.d. salinger’s raise high the roof beam, carpenters, & seymour (much to percy’s dismay, i’m sure), and arthur schnitzler’s late fame (i will never get over the moment where one day before i had my next kafka class, i bought a copy of this and then the professor mentioned schnitzler in relation to kafka. truly felt like a full circle, written in the stars sort of moment. i can’t wait to take her class on the coffeehouse scene/culture in the turn of the century vienna, as schnitzler was involved in that scene). and an honorable mention, of course, to mary oliver’s devotions—i am honestly never not reading from that poetry collection and it’s become a diary at this point with the way i annotate it.
—to dance more—oh, how i love to dance but i don’t feel like i get to do it too often, nor do i allow myself to as much as i’d like! what are the empty black box classrooms/dance studios at my college for if not to use them? i will admit, this is not my strongest suit when it comes to a performer’s big three (acting, singing, dancing) but i think since there isn’t much pressure to be good at it, that’s part of why i enjoy it so much. i’m not amazing at it and i’m okay with that, i’m okay with not being amazing at everything i do (or, well, i’m trying to be okay with it). it’s freeing to just let music move me and not control my own movements too much and be impressed from time to time at the combinations i come up with. i’d love to dance more in that way and continue to do so, but i’d also like to pursue ballet again (i was never a prima ballerina and don’t feel the want or need to be, but i was pretty decent!) as it may even help with figure skating, and i would also love to learn to swing dance. if anyone needs or wants a swing dancing partner, let me know! i also more than anything want to go dancing at a jazz club, that is the ultimate dancing dream. and it will happen! perhaps i’d want to be a singer at a jazz club just a tad bit more but we all start somewhere, and i really think dancing at one would heal me a bit.
—not only would i like to continue figure skating (i will), i’d really, really like a nice skirt to wear sometimes when i do. i have a pair of flare pants that i adore and can wear too, but when i see fellow figure skaters on the ice spinning in their skirts, i can’t help but want one as well and i love wearing skirts often off the ice, too. it would make me feel even more whimsical and beautiful as i grace the ice, this one, for reference, is really lovely
—to see myself in the way that my loved ones see me. i can confidently say that i love myself, and that is the truth (david foster wallace’s lowercase t/capital T truth rules do not apply here because this notion is a little bit more complicated than it can account for, though i can only hope i’d never truly dislike myself in any way), but i notice that when my friends say kind things about me, i don’t always necessarily believe it. not because i am insecure, but because i genuinely haven’t been able to see myself the way they do, and i know i never truly will, but to a degree i think i can and i would like to. i want to love myself in the way that i am loved by others. on this note, to also really get it into my head that i am not a burden for needing support sometimes. i don’t want to fear asking for it anymore. this being said, to also not push people away when they offer their help, to know that they would not have offered if they didn’t want to/didn’t have the room on their plate to do so
—a vintage nightgown to live out my angelic and vampiric princess dreams simultaneously. i refuse to live a life where i didn’t get to wear a nightgown like this and walk around my home (or a palace perhaps) with an antique candle holder with satie (my favorite composer) playing in the background at least once, preferably on a gramophone that i will inevitably own and add to my collection of differing ways to listen to music (so far i have two different generations of ipods, a record player, cassette tape player, and a cd player)
—to not hold back how i feel regardless of what exactly the feeling is. enough said on this one for now, i think
—to go to as many film screenings for the chicago film festival that i can and network network network with the members of the creative teams that show up, and to just keep devouring films at all. when the lights dim and i dig into my way too buttered (by choice) popcorn, time stops for a little bit and my worries melt away
—to love and be loved, in any context imaginable—need i say more?
—to dance in the rain—there’s a reason i have an ever-growing playlist (don’t ask why ‘good guy’ by julia jacklin is on it four times because i genuinely don’t know why but if i try to remove any of them, all of them will be removed. it’s funny at this point anyways and it adds character i suppose) curated for these exact occasions. dancing in the rain is one of the many experiences that makes me feel truly, truly alive, i have always loved the rain and i always will. back in high school, i remember every time i had wished for the rain, it would come the next day—i can only hope this ability of mine returns someday
—to treasure sleep a bit more, i always say there are so many other things i could be doing and would rather be doing instead of sleeping and unfortunately, yet still fortunately for me, all of my best creative ideas come to me at 2 am. still, having this blog has helped me to realize that it doesn’t need to be the dead of night for me to have revelations and sudden urges to write. plus, how will i execute my ideas if i am not rested enough to? my brain needs more of a break than i currently give it. this being said, don’t get me wrong—i am still always overjoyed to have late night chats of any kind and my place is open in the late hours of the night even still, and i cannot wait for these moments and already cherish them when i get to have them. this is a double edged sword because even if i’m having a great time i won’t be the first to admit i’m tired, but i’m working on it. and, getting to dream is one of my favorite experiences—i often remember my dreams and in great detail, i even keep a dream journal so as not to forget, and i love to interpret their meanings, as i believe our dreams are messages to us of the varying sort
—to see fiona apple live. in the words of fiona apple herself, please please please! i need this to happen. i know she’s expressed feeling anxiety toward performing again, and i can completely understand that with the way fans of many musicians tend to act at concerts these days but i will send over a death glare at anyone who is doing anything awful
—to crochet one of each type of garment (a sweater, shirt, skirt, pants, shorts, etc), i made a book sleeve in the shape of a love letter which i am proud of, and haven’t finished a project since. i’d really like to. i’ve been working on leg warmers for figure skating as of late but the yarn i truly wish to use is waiting for me in boxes in chicago
—speaking of straight edges, to be a bit less of one. to just stop holding myself back in general would be great
—to give myself the same love, care, support, kindness, and empathy that i give to others, as well as advocate for myself, my boundaries, and my needs. this may be one of the most difficult things for me to do, but i will get there, and i’ve already made a start and i’m really proud of myself for it. maybe this could become less and less challenging over time, i hope at least
—to have more meet-cutes and no, not in that solely romantic, fanfiction-esque way you’re probably imagining (though that is still lovely and welcome)—in my first year of college i was walking back to my dorm one sunny day and someone was walking past me, though she gasped excitedly and pointed at my sweater and claimed she had the same exact one! which was even more fun because i had thrifted mine, so what were the odds of this happening?! we giggled together for a moment and then i never saw her again, but how cool would it have been if that was the start of a beautiful friendship, in rick blaine from casablanca’s words (also, ilsa chose rick in the end and you cannot convince me otherwise. she only got on that plane with victor laszlo because rick told her to but you can see it in the look in her eyes that she didn’t choose victor, and right before that scene, if i remember correctly, she went to his apartment telling him that she wanted to be with him. she chose rick! i rest my case, however i also can see the belief that casablanca did a love triangle well and ilsa loves both of these men strongly and differently—the ambiguity of her choice adds to that nuance, that love isn’t always black and white or one or the other, which i do appreciate still. but no way that she would have solely chosen victor, i refuse to believe that much, even though she does go with him in the end. god, i could talk about this brilliant, timeless movie for ages)
—to feel embarrassed less, i’ve realized recently that embarrassment is sometimes more-so a state of mind? i’d like to be able to laugh situations off more, especially with others, and not beat myself up too much over saying or doing something a little silly, to not take myself too seriously, and to really stop and think about if something is really worth being embarrassed over or not
—i know i mentioned this briefly in my previous piece but i am never ever going to have a bad birthday again! i have only had two in my lifetime that i would constitute as being close to negative experiences but even then, they still had wonderful moments despite the terrible ones—but this year it will be free of anything terrible and only filled with all good things! connie, my best friend of 13 years (13 years!) is coming to visit for the weekend and they’ll get to meet all my friends and i don’t know what all the weekend will entail yet (which is shocking for me to admit because i honestly plan my birthdays way more in advance than i maybe should), but i already know it’s going to be incredible. i’ll have been alive for two whole decades and have prevailed through so much, and that is truly worth a wonderful celebration! i have always been passionate about birthdays (my own and others’! i would like to believe i’m a good gift giver and birthday planner) because to me, they are truly celebrations of all you have accomplished in the past year, all you’ve had to overcome and work through, etc, and despite any and all hardship, you are still here and made it to this moment and came out of it a little stronger and wiser.
—i am going to make my literary magazine comeback! i will submit and get more of my pieces published again and not let the fear that they are not good enough hold me back from even writing them in the first place. i may even get my own literary magazine started back up, some of you may remember when i got pretty far on this endeavor but ended up becoming too busy to really start it, but i feel like there’s no better time than the present! of course, for my readers who are also writers, you will be kept posted on this
there are many more wishes i can think of, but i don’t want to get too greedy here, nor have this be an hour-long read! before we part, i will share my recipe, as promised, though i also wish to impart you with my utmost gratitude for giving my writing your time, and send you off with much of my love, always.
liv’s chocolate chip scones (confession: these resulted from an error in making the original toll house chocolate chip cookie recipe, if this looks at all familiar (but it isn’t the same!), but sometimes wrongs lead to rights, right?)
ingredients
3-4 cups of flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 stick of softened butter (if you need to soften butter quick, run some hot water from the sink or boil it and put it in a glass, then quickly dump the water out and place the glass over the stick of butter. leave it there for five-ten minutes)
3/4 cups of granulated sugar
3/4 cups of brown sugar
1 teaspoon of vanilla extract
1 teaspoon of salt (maybe even a little less)
2 large eggs
3 cups of chocolate chips
directions
preheat your oven to 400 degrees farenheit for ten minutes.
combine flour, baking soda, and salt in a small bowl.
grab your nearest larger bowl and bring together the butter, granulated sugar, and brown sugar and stir them until it’s creamy. add eggs one at a time, beating well after each addition. then, gradually bring in the flour mixture to the larger bowl you’re working on!
add the chocolate chips into the mixture and stir
bake for 9-15 minutes but no longer or shorter. as they bake, clean up your cookware! you’ll thank yourself later.
enjoy your not-so-accidental chocolate chip scones!
to love and be loved, can i say more? you have a brilliant mind dear liv