Being a Girl

It’s just one of those days where emotion conflates to nostalgia, heartbreak, euphoria all in quickened montage. Funny how memories do that for you. They remind you of all of those beautiful moments and linger on the broken reality of decay. These days I’d rather reminisce about my grandmother, her stern house rules, her ruthless but entertaining speak, her penchant for color (think hot pink 70s pantsuit and 80s indigo clogs) and patterns galore. This woman I have in my life is a queen. She set a firm example of control, dignity, and the wonders of gelatin. Serious pin-up for handsome nails and thick hair. I digress as I circle contently in florescent polaroid shots of the mind. These next few videos are dedicated to the silliness of grandma Margaret and the steadfast integrity of my sister, Elena, both strong female spirits. The three of us can make a mean batch of nachos, slap our knee in satisfaction, and laugh wholeheartedly at the follies of life. 


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