Once again I have made a major move, this time it’s out to the West. Once again I have no idea what I am doing or what I will do. I just know that I will live. Isn’t that the American Twenty-First century way though?
I thought that I could move out West and I would be who I was when I listened to Stevie Nicks, Faith Hill, Joni Mitchel, Elvis and Fleetwood Mac. When I collected crystals and had an altar. I prayed to Mother Nature and knew my body like the back of my hand. Living in the Mid-West makes you forget. It makes you so dizzy that you can’t breathe until you become one the moving people, ever changing, ever experiencing, ever someone you cannot recognize.
I missed the sun and grew in places I never knew I owned on my body. My skin grew paler with my eyes and hair grew dark. I wondered what I looked like when I used to be golden. I asked for this I thought. To return to the place I was born. I wanted to walk the grounds that my father walked, the man I never knew. I thought it would make me understand him, I thought that I would run into him one day. Pale blue eyes that appeared to hold the sadness of the world inside of them, drooping large and low. Hair black and breath that smelt of bad choices. He was like a Pablo painting. His life was Picasso’s blue phase. He taught me about true sorrow. The understanding of loss and the misunderstanding of feeling lost and alone.
I breathed bourbon and lost myself in midnight and courier script. I went back to school for writing and looked for spirits to befriend in haunted hotels. I almost drowned in my bathtub, stomach full of cosmo’s and pills the night my husband was robbed at gunpoint and knife point and I woke up thinking we were both dead. Ghosts wandering the hallow city -who would have even noticed if you were talking to one? I came close to loosing myself. To never waking or the true fear of ending up in a mental institution again. Was I haunted? Cursed?
I don’t even remember leaving, it was like a bad breakup. I tried to forget the city. I tried to take it all in. I walked everywhere and drank everything and gained weight. Then, like I arrived, I was gone. Like a faint apparition, but I had left my mark. I worked my dream job, I walked more miles up and down Magnificent Mile more times than I could rack up. I ate Garrett’s popcorn and armfuls of warm pretzels. I lived on Printer’s Row where Hemingway traversed, wondering if he would ever be a great novelist. I began my book, in the nook of my nine story apartment that overlooked the west loop and the glistening John Hancock. I stared at Monet’s for hours. Dazed at Egyptian makeup boxes, wondered what it must have been like for Ceasar and Cleopatra to be in love.
Now the desert is my home. I am collecting skulls of buffalo, turquoise, quartz that I stumble on in my fringed boots. I am tanned and thinned out, eating what grows straight from the ground or has recently been killed and skinned. I am learning to breathe again, slow and steady breathes. I am not constantly on guard, eyes widened like a rabid animal, hairs that stuck up have calmed and I feel my soul has regressed. Back to a natural state.
Dress by For Love and Lemons
Heels by Lulus.com
Here it is you guys! Pics from my wedding that I collaborated into a magazine to print and send to family and friends. I am so excited to share and hope you like! XO
Dress by : Grace Loves Lace
Heels : Sam Edelmen
Jewelry: Free People
Suit Jacket : Express Men
Pants : Banana Republic
Loafers : Cole Haan
Shop Akira skirt
So I’m working on a wedding magazine for myself and friends and family members with Blurb.com. I’m using Vogue and the Knot as inspiration and really having fun with it! I can’t wait to share with you guys! XX Kara @Neon Cherokee
Chicago is filled with good eats, lots of secret speakeasy’s and clubs. Baptiste and Bottle is a great place to stop and have a $25 specialty cocktail (trust me well worth the price) and then we ventures to a hidden Disco club that sits on the third floor of club Celeste. Good luck getting in as some people who even make a reservation aren’t allowed in, it truly is the new Studio 54. There’s also a fourth floor rooftop, but you have to know how to find the entrance to experience it! We also entered to the SoHo house’s speakeasy, one down a darkened alley away called Three Dots and a Dash, which is tropical themed, Cindy’s Rooftop bar, and another speakeasy called Safe House, that is themed like a spy bar, and unless you know the passcode you will find yourself doing strange tasks while on camera and watched by the patrons who have already made it inside.
Dress : For Love and Lemons
Pink Dress: Bebe
Clear heels: Lulu’s
Black heels: Missguided
Friend or Foe
She screams because she has forgotten how to use her magic
her legs are pressed tightly because she has forgotten
that when they bow like a butterfly
they secrete honey for the sting of the bee
but it isn’t a sting at all
It’s making love
all the light inside of her
glows in that moment
she is scared of being torn apart
from the inside
she has forgotten he is the healer
who has come to take her pain away
Picture by Anthony V. Calla
Website : http://www.avcalla.com
Instagram : @a.v.calla_photography
Skirt : Forever 21
Body Suit : Akira
Mule Sandals : Steve Madden
Purse : Coach