Pancakes for my best friend’s birthday. She makes such incredible pancakes that she earned the trail name Pancakes when she hiked the 2650 mile long Pacific Crest Trail. She’s an absolute badass mountaineer, baker, crocheter, artist, and human, and she has a fantastic hiking blog that everyone should read.
Bonus: the most perfect cat in the world scoping out my paint water (don’t worry, she didn’t drink any).
Hope you’re having a lovely day and creating and enjoying. Cheers, R.
Of course, there were a lot of good people sleeping in the streets. They weren’t fools, they just didn’t fit into the needed machinery of the moment.
Pulp, Charles Bukowski, 1994
Nothing better than Charles Bukowski to help get you through some years of angst and inner turmoil.
Since this blog has absolutely zero shame, I present an excerpt from the angsty diary of 14 year old me, who copied down loads of his poems because hey someone else’s brain sucked, too, and it felt good to make his words come out of my hands. And ya know, at that age NO ONE COULD POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND ME AND MY FEELINGS, MAN.
14-year-old-Rachel and anyone reading this who might struggling, it gets better. Make your art and listen to your music and talk to humans you love. And please give me a shout if you need someone to talk to – I’m here.
Rachel Admas 