Loose Ends & The Start of Junior Year

 

Today, on this particular Monday, it's Labor Day and I'm being told I can no longer wear white - which, as a Miamian who prides herself on her bursting collection of whites and linens, this is a stressful day in fashion. It is also the first warm day in a week, chill-fully reminding me that summer is officially over and the start of a new school year has begun. 

There are a few things I always look forward to at the start of the semester: bumping into the friends you "HAGS'd" last school year, spending all of your freshly earned summer cash on even fresher school supplies, and, best of all, feeling that re-ignited electricity that comes from the buzz of activity on campus. Given that I, personally, have a make-up exam to take from an incomplete course in the spring, my re-ignited electricity is already waning - rather, it's being stifled by the harsh reality of days already spent festering in the library as opposed to tailgating in the middle of the day with friends. 

As I sit here in Tatte (yes, school's back in session and my routine trips for overpriced lattes and great lighting commences) on a brief study break from eigenvalues and matrices, I'm thinking about what I'm most excited for in the coming months. But, in order to look forward to the big events soon to come, I find it helpful to look back (at it, haha...) at all the smaller, little tidbits of life that have dotted my past few months.

I'm thinking of all the loose ends left on my camera roll, the ones reminding me of spontaneous day trips or silly happenings that made me smile. This digital exercise of flipping through the countless photos I embarrassingly hoard on my phone is kind of similar to the more analog activity I did to chronicle joyful moments all summer: my Happy Jar. Inspired by one of those "things 2 make ur significant other if u r in a cheezy relationship" articles, I found that I could adjust one of the sentiments to my happily single lifestyle. 

I bought myself a mason jar, and used it to keep note of things that made me smile: rekindling with friends, a sweet message someone sent me, or whatever! Each happy thought became immortalized on a little scroll of paper and lived inside this clear capsule. Now, at the official end of the summer, I get to look back at all the little things that, when summed up together, comprise a grander theme of cheerful little moments of the past, and similar ones to come. 

Aside from being done with this exam on the 12th, here are some other things I am really looking forward to in year 3, aka an excuse to give purpose the hodge-podge of leftover photos I have sitting in my camera roll:

Being surrounded by people as quirky and down-to-costume as I am:

The change of seasons (though summer flowers will definitely be missed):

Sitting in coffee shops and feeling inspiration dance along the wafts of burnt toast:

Frolicking in Art Museums to witness works from the classroom in person - or, alternatively, make weird faces among the art:

Spending afternoons looking up at the sky and being surprised attacked by puppies:

Going through all these happy photos and happy moments, I am reminded that sometimes little loose ends are enough to tie up bigger chapters in life - ones that don't always have to be the happiest, but are dotted with moments to smile about :)

Xx, Maia 
 

Above-Average Aquatic Escapes

 

As the summer comes to a close and my brief stint of vacation in Miami ends even sooner, I can't help but rewind the past couple of months in my mind. Between the incredible internship and even more incredible cohort of summer friends, there's not much, if at all, I'd do over. Days I'd play over, though? Plenty. Most of which coincidently have to do with aquatic escapes. I guess I do my Pices-ness well in that I crave water and the routine bikini-clad plunge. However, being in Boston for the summer meant that my standards of a "beach day" had to shift, stat

My first beach excursion was to Duxbury where the sand was replaced with rocks and the water was replaced with ice. At a beach unsuitable for leisurely tanning or a refreshing dip, what do you do? Bury your friend in the only sand patch in sight, of course! Well, that and play great music to soundtrack your Spikeball. 

Beach trip number two was a lot more familiar given the return of sand and, actually, my return to Singing Beach from last summer's Fourth of July trip with Sara (my dear summer roomie of 2k16). Here, at Manchester-by-the-Sea, we lapped up mountains of ice cream, frolicked on the set of The Proposal (I'm still replaying my reenaction of Sandra Bullock feeding the dog to the hawk), and played some questionable games on shore - one that had me sprinting into the ocean, submerging myself, and losing all feeling in my body. But hey, that's summer!

Aquatic adventure number three was far more spontaneous in that I was invited to None-Such Lake (a lake??) after work one day and just said, "why not." I think was far too excited about my first time seeing a lake, let alone swimming in one, that I'm pretty sure I annoyed all of my friends. Not to mention that I snobbishly commented on the "dirt" taste of the water because my palette is apparently more accustomed to the salinated Miami Beach waters. Needless to say, my friends tried to convince me there was a Loch Ness Monster lurking underneath the orangey water, to which I replied, "There's None-Such thing." (It was really funny, I promise...)

A return to the lake rounded out excursion number 5, though if one skinny dips at midnight and it's not documented, did it really happen?

The sixth body of water provided more of an ambient and familiar background sound than an opportunity for splashing about. On her one day visit to Boston, Val found herself in a familiar position: cuddled next to me on a blanket by some water. And no, we're not dating. 

Salt, sun, and sand trip number seven happened a little more true to form: 305 form. Given 10 days home, I spent the first 5 sleeping and plan on spending the last 5 swimming. Today, awoken by the irrational urge to take a dip at the crack of dawn, I swooped up Val at a ripe 7:30am and we managed to get in a solid beach day all before lunch.

I used to think a solid beach day was defined by the quality of the sand and the clarity of the water, but, after spending a whole summer taking off to any nearby body of water I could find, I realized that aquatic escapes are much better defined by the company than the taste of the water when you jump in cannon ball style. 

Xx, Maia 
 

Getting elated: a Preview

 

A few days ago, on a particularly toasty Miami day, my sister, Ariel, rolled up the sleeves of her white linen shirt, spent the day fusing neuroscience with nutrition through food, & faced the raw opinions of several hungry focus-group participants. Surrounded by the beauty of The Wynwood Yard, Ariel discussed the journey that led her to start her own business: elated

Founded from the need to make mental-health maintenance part of a daily habit, elated brings brain-boosting, good-mood-making meals right to your door. Made using only all-natural ingredients, our food combines the power of nutrition and neuroscience to feed your brain while tantalizing your taste buds

As her sister, cheerleader, and CTO (ask me which role is my favorite), I happily helped whip up some menus, business cards, and acted as her first taste tester. When I gave her the thumbs up, she knew she must be onto something, as she had successfully fed me food that wasn't beige, nor consisted of solely potatoes and cheese - and that's a feat. 

I actually found her food to be phenomenal, and not just because it was definitely made with love. Every flavor was identifiable, in such a way that it tasted both fresh and balanced. For her focus group, she decided to put forth six items from her launch menu:

Soup: Popeye's Dream

Salad: Remember Me

Staple: Confetti Salad with Salmon

Staple: Happy Belly Veggie Burger

Sweet(s): Pretty in Pink & Chococado Pudding

Suffice it to say, her participants truly enjoyed their flavorful experience, and were all supportive of this new venture in bringing science to healthy eating. One group-goer was even overheard saying, "people who 'hate' eating healthy will love this food!" So no one gets left out.

Stay tuned for the official, Miami launch (eventual delivery in Boston is definitely on the radar) but for now, get yourself on her mailing list, and follow her on instagram @get.elated to find out insider deets!

Ariel Suazo-Maler holds a master’s in human nutrition from Columbia University, and a bachelor’s in cognitive neuroscience from Wellesley College. She has conducted research in the genetic and neuroanatomical underpinnings of schizophrenia, the neurophysiology of taste perception, and the role of nutrition in depression and anxiety. With elated, Ariel has created a consumable way of bringing her years of research to the table. And she's a pretty, awesome sister to boot ;)

Xx, Maia 

 

 

Coppa Runneth Over

 

My dinner at Coppa in the South End was unlike any other. Probably for a few reasons: it was my first, official blogger meal on behalf of Boston Bites (thank you, Alana for keeping me well fed this summer), the meal itself was divine beyond comprehension, and the entire event was dedicated to celebrating cheese. I love cheese. I really do. It's a toss up between loving cheese or potatoes more. And, as any lover, I don't often like to choose between them, so I choose both. Celebrating the Grana Padano PDO cheese at Coppa, brought an evening of incredibly cool company, beautiful presentation, and phenomenally tasting food. 

First, a little about the guest of honor: Grana Padano PDO was created by Cistercian monks one millenium ago as a way for northern Italian dairy farmers to preserve their excess milk. It is now one of Italy's best selling cheeses across the world. Pale yellow, sweet, and granular, the cheese is made from milk of cows from the Po Valley and aged somewhere between 12-30 months. That makes one helluva good cheese.

Now, without further ado, the ooey, gooey, supremely delicious meal of my dreams. For optimal sensory overload, I've opted to tell you about it all at once, and then let you salivate over the photos for the rest of the post. Broken down in four rotations, my tastebuds were instantly seduced by the Steak Tartare Crostino (Urfa, Grana Padano PDO, and mint), Mortadella Pimento (Grana Padano Riserve and grilled bread, aptly presented on a pig shaped cutting board), and Arancini (Grana Padano PDO and tomato fondue in fun little puff balls).

The honeymoon phase of two, heavenly pasta dishes - Cavatelli con Pollo & Rigatoni Alfredo - really took my breath away.

I regained consciousness for the two pizzas, savoring the classic Margherita Pizza and trying new things with the Fiore de Zuchini (white pizza, squash blossom, charred corn, chili oil, marjoram, Grana Padano PDO).

Now that my soul was full and my stomach was getting full, the sweet, goodnight kiss, of Zepolle (ricotta donuts and strawberry jam) plus Grana Padano PDO with fresh strawberries and balsamic, lingered on my lips the whole ride home. Suffice it to say I fell back in love with cheese that night. 

Xx, Maia
 

New (love for) York City

 

New York City: the homeland of Gossip Girl, Levain cookies, and postgrads a plenty to keep your college years going strong long after they're gone. I've been lucky enough to visit NYC pretty consistently throughout my life, especially when my sis lived there (the Magnolia Bakery on her corner definitely made visits that much sweeter - seriously thinking of starting a Banana Pudding Enthusiasts Club, but that's a whole other story). Since she moved out, I've used the excuse of visiting city friends to justify weekend trips here and there. This past weekend, I packed a weekend bag (with only three outfits, one for each day, and that is a packing first for me so thank you in advance for your congratulations) and embarked on a multi-delayed flight to the Big Apple. 

Being a city girl, well swamp city girl, myself, I appreciate the zooming pace of NYC in a way that is more rejuvenating to me than a weekend in the beautiful burbs of Massachusetts. Smack dab in the middle of my summer internship (and absolutely loving it, but more on that at another date), this weekend trip to New York proved to be the perfect jolt of energy I needed to finish out the summer strong - not to mention I really missed my city pals and weekly FaceTimes weren't cutting it. 

Having now officially reached the midpoint of my college years, talk of post-grad has already begun and people seem to be claiming their first apartment neighborhoods already. I have never really been a New-York-or-Bust kind of post-grad thinker, but I must say that for whatever reason, this past trip really made the Big Apple feel like home. 

Perhaps it was the warm welcome and royal treatment found at my weekend at Lily's home that jump started this familial feeling of affection for the city. 

It could've also been the walks to the subway to meet my friends accompanied by blasting tunes in my ears, sunglasses on, and the realization that my shoes really did look good strutting along the sidewalks. 

Maybe it was the day trip to Brooklyn where Lily and I sought out the Brooklyn Art Library (a precious nook filled to the brim with sketchbooks submitted by anyone and everyone) that made me feel like I could contribute something to this magical canvas of a place. 

Or the fact that two thirds of the restaurants I was taken to to try I had actually already been to, having forgotten the names but instantly recognizing the vibes, that had me realize I was already more of a New Yorker than I thought.

But, above all, I think it was probably the amount of love I felt from the friends who have already set roots in town, or are planning to, that reminded me how special friends are in life because they're truly handpicked family.

And after three days, NYC felt a bit smaller, a little cozier, and lot more like a future home - at least for a few years until I return to Miami to make my mark before it's, well, totally underwater... 

Xx, Maia
 

a Day at DAVIDsTEA

 

It was the Fourth of July and I found myself at the new DAVIDsTEA location at the Prudential Center on an Boston Bites mission. Equipped with my Moleskine, my camera, and the thirst I worked up on that summer's day trek, I was ready to try some tea and learn more about the business - one I definitely owe my sanity to during finals last winter (thank you, Snowy Day tea!). 

Right off the bat the store drew me in with its vibrant color palette and meticulous displays. I had been set up to meet with the New England district manager, Jim, and arrived a few minutes early enough to hear him speaking with a mother and her daughter - first time tea shoppers. The genuine care and nurturing nature with which Jim spoke to these customers really captured me. I instantly knew I'd be in good hands. 

Within the first minute of meeting Jim, he offered me some tea (an expert tea salesman fully aware that the way to anyone's heart is through their stomach). I picked an iced Fruity Oasis tea with agave, per his suggestion, and happily sipped as he walked me through the brand. 

DAVIDsTEA began in Canada on Queens St. nine years ago (in November), founded on the premise of fostering empathy, education, and innovation in tea making. This mantra instantly resonated as I fondly recalled the times in which I received free teas at the Harvard Square location on days in which I figure the workers must have felt my stressed out vibe. Jim validated that this was in fact part of their mission: to treat customers with kindness, even if that means a free cup of tea every now and then. 

I then learned that the teas are broken up and displayed by mood: classics, feel good, sweet & indulgent, and fresh & fruity. The organizational portion of my brain let out a calming sigh of relief. But wait, there's more! The teas are also color coded to enhance the visual nature of understanding the different teas. Another functional implementation of making education accessible - like coloring caffeine free tea orange/yellow for immediate, visual reference. 

Jim also explained that in this particular store the set up was more "grab & go." If the customer is a frequent one, they can keep their headphones in and just select what they came in for, but if it's their first time, there are several people on staff eager to help. As soon as you walk in, you are greeted so warmly and genuinely, a testament to their family-like work ethic and positive environment. Jim even noted that they love doing "matcha shots" with customers in the store. 

Then came the goodies: Jim talked to me about the innovative side of tea making - namely the custom developed mugs, bottles, and pitchers. He showed me the Matcha Shaker, a creative, fun, and educational way to make matcha on the go. My personal favorite had to be the color changing iced tea bottle, though. Of course, no surprise there that the color loving gal loved the color changing cup. Jim even pointed out that the general color scheme of the store is white and bright as opposed to the traditional dark walls and cast iron materials of other tea stores. 

Mid drink demo, Jim whipped out a "perfect spoon" from his pocket. No, I'm not joking. "You've gotta have your perfect spoon on you. I mean c'mon, this pants pocket is just perfect for one." And he was right. Every tea lover needs their perfect spoon at their disposal (and yes, I went home with one of my very own - it's peach colored). Next up were the new Iced Tea Pitcher Presses, an absolute must for instant tea at all of your summer festivities.

"I didn't invent them, but I can sure sell the heck out of them." And if Jim hadn't already promised to send me home with some free goodies, I probably would have bought the pitcher right then and there. It sure helped that a customer interjected, "These are awesome, I have one!" as Jim showed me exactly how they worked. 

Before I left, Jim asked me what kind of tea I liked. I said Jasmine, and he proceeded to show me their wide array of options: from hand rolled tea to green teas left for five days with blooming jasmine in the room, I quickly felt both informed and excited to make my new tea at home!

With such an emphasis on a culture of empathy, it's no wonder that Jim, and people just like him, are the face of the company. Jim told me about his first experience with tea purchasing and how it quite literally left a "bad taste" in his mouth after he spent tons of money on a bunch of equipment no one told him how to use. Here at DAVIDsTEA, not only will you know exactly what you're doing, but you'll feel like you're now part of a family - one that'll give you a warm cup of Snowy Day tea, scooped from a perfect spoon, on a day you definitely need a pick me up. 

Xx, Maia 
 

Bubbles *pop*

 

I sit at a wooden high top in my office, in a swivel chair, lit by nothing but the glow of natural sunlight. Sometimes, when I’m thinking, I spin around in my chair - mostly because it’s fun, sometimes because it shakes up my brain juices. On Friday, I kept swiveling to my left, facing the bookshelf coating the far wall of the office. I scanned the spines, half absentmindedly, half mentally pleading for a title to jolt my curiosities. Bubbles. I found a book called Bubbles. And it looked like it would be a fun book, because who writes a book about bubbles that isn’t fun? I probably giggled quietly, and then swiveled back to the right, resuming the task at hand.

*pop*

Bubbles, huh? I always hear how Harvard is a bubble. In fact, I usually resort to that excuse when my Babson or Bentley friends ask why I hardly venture out towards them. Harvard is a bubble. A small, cozy sphere of amenities and adventure. So contained that it’s virtually undesirable to escape, to pop the film, to dance in the rainy burst of aftermath. 

*pop*

On Sunday, after having a day full of ~me~ time (think unplugging and escaping to an off-campus coffee shop to purposefully pop the campus bubble in order to reconstruct a temporary one around myself, napping, and laying by the Charles). My last activity, brought me to the riverbank reading a book of Love Letters, returning me softly to my bubble. Within a few stanzas, my friends found me, laying on the riverbank reading. An invitation to sit on the bridge with them materialized, and I figured I’d had enough me time to be a revitalized social butterfly. 

*pop*

We sat precariously on the ledge of the bridge and watched the sunset. As the tangerine film faded on the sky, it was slowly replaced by the rainbow like halo of bubbles glistening in the sky. Floating. Bursting. Being filled with a passerby’s vape. Sometimes the bubbles were big enough that they looked like they were swallowing the colossal campus buildings. Other times, they were so teeny that they floated way up to the clouds. We relished in this childlike joy, trying our hands at the magical bubble wand provided by the bubble man - someone who apparently does this on a regular basis. Hey, while some guys take their dogs on walks to attract company, others blow bubbles on a bridge to bring the community together under the shared desire to pause from the rapid pace of their daily lives. 

*pop*

Now it's Monday, the gateway drug back into the rapid pace of daily lives. I'm swiveling in my desk chair, the power is out in the office, and I stare back at the bookshelf. Bubbles. Maybe I should see what lies in between the sky blue covers. So I picked it up for a lunch time read. It was definitely denser than expected, in sheer paper weight and content, especially for a topic you imagine to be effortlessly airy. The first page boasted "microspherology," which I took as a green light to skim and see what popped out at me. 

*pop*

"The child stands enraptured on the balcony, holding its new present and watching the soap bubbles float into the sky as it blows them out of the little loop in front of his mouth. Now a swarm of bubbles erupts upwards, as chaotically vivacious as a throw of shimmering blue marbles. Then, at a subsequent attempt, a large oval balloon, filled with timid life, quivers off the loop and floats down to the street, carried along by the breeze. It is followed by the hopes of the delightful child, floating out into the space in its own magic bubble as if, for a few seconds, its fate depended on that of the nervous entity." - Peter Sloterdijk, Bubbles Sphere I

*pop*

"In the place where the orb burst, the blower's excorporated soul was left alone for a moment, as if it had embarked on a shared expedition only to lose its partner halfway. But the melancholy lasts no more than a second before the joy of playing returns with its time-honored cruel momentum. What are broken hopes but opportunities for new attempts?" - Peter Sloterdijk, Bubbles Sphere I

*pop*

"Because living always means building spheres, both on a small and a large scale, humans are the beings that establish globes and look out into horizons. Living in spheres means creating the dimension in which humans can be contained." - Peter Sloterdijk, Bubbles Sphere I

*pop*

So, I guess the Harvard bubble really does exist. But so does the Boston bubble, and the American bubble, and the earthly bubble. But I'm not here to get all existential. After all, aren't bubbles supposed to be airy and whimsical?

Xx, Maia 
 

Feels Like Home

 

I keep telling my friends I’m waiting for my life to return to normal. I thought that going back to Miami would feel normal. Then I thought that coming back to Cambridge would feel normal. My two spheres, my two safe havens; neither one is normal any longer. But that’s not a bad thing. It’s just different.  

When my mom passed away on May 1st of 2017, toward the end of my sophomore spring semester, I felt an uneasy wave of calmness flood into my life. I didn’t feel guilty for my feelings, because in no way did I feel thankful that she was gone—the complete opposite in fact. Rather, I was grateful that she was at peace, because toward the end, I don’t think she was. I mean, who would be?  

The night it happened, I’m pretty sure I was in shock. It was something I had replayed over and over in my mind months before it happened, in fear, and it was something that I sat thinking about in her bed when I FaceTimed my best friends to break the news. The words dripped slowly out of my numb mouth, and it wasn’t until I could see the shock and despair on their faces that I knew it was real.  My best friend, biggest supporter, and brightest inspiration was gone.  

The night it happened, I remember not being able to look at myself in the mirror, and not just because I’m an ugly crier. At the time, I couldn’t really understand why I was shying away from my own reflection. A few days later, I was at an intimate family gathering to celebrate my mother’s life, a place in which I had the opportunity to meet old friends of hers. It was there that I realized why I couldn’t look at myself that night; it’s because I look so much like her. I don’t think I could come to grips with seeing a face like hers stare back at me on the night I found out I lost her. It wasn’t until I had people blatantly staring at me at this gathering, whispering about how I looked just like her, that I realized this was the case. Sure, it freaked me out for a bit, realizing that other people looked at me and saw someone else. But then I realized how much of a gift that was. The ability to look in the mirror and see not only who I’ve become, but who I came from: my mother, a bombshell blonde with a bod, brain, and bountiful love for others.  

Two nights after it happened, I was sitting outside on my front porch around midnight. Formerly terrified of the dark, so much so that I usually had to jump on my bed as soon as I turned off the lights at night to avoid any hypothetical creature snatching my ankles from below my mattress, I laid there in the grass, calmly, and finally at peace. It took me a few moments to understand why I felt at home in the dark, and then I realized that it was because I was no longer alone. I know people always say that when those you love pass, they’re always watching, guiding, and loving you from above. But that is exactly how I felt in that moment, and how I’ve felt every day since.  

For those of you who knew my mother, you knew her as a pillar of light, integrity, creativity, wit, brilliance, rhythm, and love. You knew how much she lived her life for me and my sister, and how active she was in our lives every day of her twenty-six years as a mother. I can only imagine what you must be thinking. How you must be feeling for me, and for my family. How you must be wondering: How can one move on in life without her best friend?  

When it happened, I received an outpouring of love, even from the most unexpected places. From the women at her blow dry bar, who were each independently touched by her and her ability to give advice in any situation, to all of my college friends who had the pleasure of meeting her, and simply realizing how important she was to me. One friend told me that she had never met my mother, but she vividly remembered ringing in my 20th birthday with me this past March on the left ledge of Widener library. It was cold and slightly rainy, but all my friends still came out to celebrate. As soon as it hit midnight and the champagne was popped, someone handed me my ringing cellphone - of course, Sandy was the first to call and wish me a happy birthday at the stroke of midnight, on the first year she wasn’t there to say it in person. This friend told me how she remembers seeing my face light up when I saw the caller ID. This friend reminded me of how my mother managed to make even simplest moments memorable.  

As I sit here, pouring over the thoughts that have been swirling in my mind for the past month, but haven’t yet had a moment to quietly parse through, the song “Mama Said” by the Shirelles comes up on shuffle. Naturally, I cry. I cry from the primal reaction of missing my mom and yearning for her touch. Yet, more importantly, I cry happy tears of gratitude, thinking about how lucky I am for how much she has loved me throughout my entire life, and how much I want to pay that love forward to others. I am now reminded about this poem by Nayyirah Waheed:   

 "If you are softer   

 than before   

 they came,     

you   

 have been loved."

I have been so loved. And I continue to feel it. I appreciate everyone who sends me their love, and who, out of love, tells me that I will probably always feel the pain of losing my mother. Yet, I don’t think so. My mother was truly larger than life. I always knew she was with me, even when she wasn’t physically present. And now, completely believing that she is somewhere in some form in the Universe, I feel her all the time and in every situation. I feel her when I try to make decisions and shy away from saying how I feel, knowing that if I could pick up the phone and ask her what I should do, she’d say, “Go with your gut, Chuchu.” So, I do. I feel her when I wake up with the melody of a song she wrote for me on my lips, one she sang throughout my childhood, and one I hope to sing to my own children one day. I feel her when the weight of her hooped earrings tug on my ears, and I am reminded that though her physical presence is outside of my realm of reach, her spiritual presence is closer than it has ever been.  

Home doesn’t feel entirely like home anymore, which isn’t all that surprising, but I feel at home in surprising new places. I always knew I liked the Harvard Art Museums. I even remember telling my boss that I liked the jingle of the locker keys (a twinkling sound others often found to be a nuisance), because it sounded like the clang of the bangles my mom wore. Because of that comforting chime, I feel more at home there than before. I feel at home walking through these cobblestone paths in Cambridge because I think of how proud she was—and is—of me for being here at Harvard, at a school she always dreamt of attending herself. I feel at home with the friends that I’ve made, knowing that the twenty years of her teaching me how to discern genuine souls from those more disingenuous has finally come to fruition. And now I feel at home with myself, alone, at night, and in the dark, because I know she’s holding my hand along the way, shining down her light for me, forever and always.  

Xx, Maia    
 

Chistes de España

 

Now that the serious, visual documentation of 10 days in Spain have been written and released, it's time to reflect on all the quirks - because not every moment is picture perfect, I know. 

Having taken over 2,000 photos, spent more time in museums than in our lecture back in Boston, and eaten my weight in jamón iberíco, it was pretty easy to start noticing common trends, and quirks among all of us 11 HAA students. 

My fascination with Kaitlin's bun

Isabella's crucial ability to pass out on every bus ride

Julia's affinity for siestas

The emergence of Ongerd from tunnels, caves, and late night dinners

Abby bringing the joy to our days through her laughter and dancing

Me really ~finding myself~

Kaitlin and Isabella finding any and all seating opportunities 

Me putting my wingspan to the test

Abby & Spencer's cuddly love affair (with cameos from Yael & Ingrid)

Me desperately trying to strut in homage to the Cheetah Girls 

The influx of Infantas around the city 

A couple who happened to be matching 

A collection of cool, mirror selfies (because those are coming back, right?)

The back of people's heads being ridiculous

And whatever else is happening in these (feat. a meme I made because it's 2017):

So cheers to our quirks and to the incredible people in this department, and two more years of us being artsy goofballs together. 

Xx, Maia 
 

(Mad)rid about Spain

 

In an attempt to visually serve justice to the remainder of this trip while also realizing that image fatigue is a thing, and not all of you might find each different side street photo as much as individual treasures as I do, here goes the cliff notes version of days 5 through 10:

To wrap up our portion in Madrid, we snuck into the Reina Sofia an hour before opening to receive a private lecture by our Professors in front of Guernica, all by ourselves. And once that clock hit 9am, boy were we flooded with traffic. This was probably the point of the trip when I realized how fortunate we were to be traveling with such brilliant people and doing such VIP things. This thought was confirmed when one of my classmates whispered in awe, "Wow, I can't wait to come back in see this." (probably in regards to one of our Mosque-roof-access excursions), to which a professor responded, "You're probably never seeing this again." And rightly so. 

 

These views were spectacular, and made even more so because of their rare, almost unicorn like, status. We were probably never going to see Spain like this again, so what'd I do? Split my time between soaking it in and photographing it, for institutional memory of course. 

Post Morning At the Museum (think Ben Stiller level, but AM), we ventured to El Escorial where someone tried to sneak into the Courtyard with us, but our super cool security guard was not having it. 

But that wasn't the only Palace we saw. Once we hit Sevilla, we frolicked in the gardens of La Casa de Pilatos, and took a quiet, dusk tour around the Alcázar. 

The next morning, we took to the sky with several aerial views of the city - think tons (and I mean tons) of stairs (yep, I may or may not have slipped in one of the winding corridors in the dark) & altitudes so high there may or may not have been a nosebleed... friends run to the tour guide for help, true friends know that that's taken care of so they take pictures instead:

For one of the only moments we had a free hour to unwind, we hit the pool. And by that I mean napped poolside and fawned over the beauty of it all. 

Suffice it to say, I absolutely loved my trip to Spain. I realize any return adventures will never be the same, but I am so fortunate to have had my first Spanish experience be filled with such fun, surprise, and learning. 

Sevilla later.

Xx, Maia 

Madrid Day 5:

  • Reina Sofia

  • Escorial

 

Burgos Day 6:

  • Burgos Cathedral

  • Monastery of Santa Maria la Real de las Huelgas

  • IPHA Cartuja Monastery

 

Córdoba Day 7:

  • Mosque-Cathedral of Córdoba

  • Synagogue

  • Hospital Cardenal Salazar

 

Sevilla Day 8:

  • Casa de Pilatos, Duke of Alcalá’s Palace

  • Hospital de la Caridad

  • Seville Cathedral

  • Old Cathusian Monastery, Isla de la Cartuja

  • Instituto Andaluz del Patrimonio Histórico in Carthusian Monastery

  • Alcázar

 

Sevilla Day 9:

  • Museum of Fine Arts

  • Iglesia de San Salvador and vaults

  • Seville Cathedral Vaults

Familiar Barcelona & (Too)ledo Many Shenanigans

 

Days two through four of this trip were split between surveying the rest of Barcelona (a hefty task for a day), commuting to Madrid, and taking time to explore Toledo. 

Though I've never been to Barcelona, or Spain in general for that matter, I'm partially titling this post "familiar" because, well, it was. Kinda. 

First off, I was greeted bright and early on Day two by a familiar face: Harvard pal, Cesar, who has been on a study abroad in Barcelona all semester (read: sad!). He showed me his university and we had the chance to catch up over bocadillos - which I would soon come to be addicted to, and also probably eat my weight's worth. 

Post breakfast, us HAAers went to the Museu Nacional d’art de Catalunya, and truly felt one with the art...

Our next stop was also familiar, in the sense that I had learned a lot about this architect and his work back in high school: Ludwig Mies Van der Rohe - specifically his Barcelona Pavilion. A simple beauty replete with rich juxtapositions of crisp marble, lush velvet, and pristine glass - all contributing to, one might say, the liminal nature of the space. 

We then spent quite some time at the Picasso Museum (no pictures permitted, so you'll just have to take my word for it) before heading to the Gothic Quarter, dining, and packing up for an early trip to Madrid the following morning.

Day three marked the day we will never forget. The day we spent seven hours in the Prado. Seven. Hours. It's the Prado, we know. It was great, no complaints there. But we hadn't quite adjusted to the drastically different dining situation, and hungry doesn't make for the best visual digestion. I will say that seeing Las Meninas in person was quite a Transformative Experience (thanks Harvard, thanks Dean Khurana), and it was quite comical to find little Infantas scattered around Madrid from there on out. 

Day four, we all zonked out on the bus en route to Toledo, but perked up once we were there - or at least I did. I absolutely loved it! From the sexy sidestreets to the sprawling view, frolicking in the flowers in between, Toledo had to be one of my favorite spots. 

There, we saw the Cathedral of Toledo, Mezquita del Cristo de la Luz, Santo Tormé, Santa Maria La Blanca, and El Tránsito - not without our fair share of shenanigans and group photos of course. 

But, in all seriousness, the architectural views were pretty spectacular. From lush landscapes to crisp corners, each stop was full of awe and information streaming directly from our professors. 

So here's to looking up at ceilings like these, and looking forward to more Spain posts - oh yes, there's more. 

Xx, Maia

Barcelona Day 2:

  • Museu Nacional d’art de Catalunya

  • Ludwig Mies Van der Rohe Foundation, Barcelona Pavilion

  • Picasso Museum

  • Gothic Quarter: Cathedral, Las Ramblas

 

Madrid Day 3:

  • Descalzas Reales Convent

  • Prado Museum

 

Toledo Day 4:

  • Toledo Cathedral

  • Mezquita del Cristo de la Luz

  • Santo Tormé

  • Santa Maria La Blanca

  • El Tránsito

 

A Spanish Revival & Gaudí's Barcelona

 

Though Spanish Revival is a beast of it's own, I'm poaching its credible title to announce this Mod & Bean comeback - one of perhaps epic proportions (I'm talking travel photos galore). Though not as much pomp but definitely a lot of circumstance prevented me from keeping up a few weeks worth of Mod Mondays, much like Gossip Girl, I'm back and better than ever - sans the digital tormenting, of course.

I present to you the first of several installations reporting on the art, the architecture, and the adventures of 10 days in Spain, generously afforded by the History of Art & Architecture Department at Harvard for the sophomore concentrators.

Adventures included days spent at the Prado and Reina Sofia (before and after public hours, wow!), trips to every grand Cathedral, Mosque, and Synagogue imaginable to celebrate Spain's convivencia, and scaling these skyscrapers for behind the scenes aerial views of Spain.

For ease of photo upload and narrative arch, I have broken down this trip regionally, focusing on the major cities of Barcelona, Madrid, and Sevilla as the anchors of the posts. Each post will deliver sites and stories from that spot, including the itineraries of those days at the end for more specific citations. Today's post? A review of Gaudí's Barcelona - a visionary known for his gargantuan and fantastical structures that manage to consume you and transport you into another universe. Though we viewed images of his work throughout the whole semester in class, nothing could compare to the overwhelming nature of approaching one of these curvilinear structures and instantly feeling like both an alien and an ant inside. I'm not saying that the sleep deprivation from the day's travel helped to make these buildings trippier, but I'm also not not saying it. 

Fresh off the plane we slipped into Casa Milá, passing my personal favorite, House of Bones (Casa Batlló) on the way. At each stop, we usually had some peer presentations, so don't just think we're nerds who carry books to every site we saw, we had to do that ;) 

For Casa Milá, roof access was available to all those curious - and what a curious sight indeed:

From a peak we went to a valley, Parque Güell  to be exact, where I marveled at the colorful nature of humans when you zoom out and see them as "sprinkles on the ice cream of life" (to quote my insta caption that day). 

To finish this bit of exploration, we ended with the un-finished Sagrada Familia: a Cathedral of colossal stature.

As we all looked up, and spent the week doing so, you can look forward to plenty more jaw-dropping views and typical shenanigans in the days to come. 

Welcome back!

Xx, Maia

Barcelona Day 1:

  • Casa Milá (La Pedrera)
  • Parque Güell 
  • Sagrada Familia
 

Artsy April: Return to Identities

 

It's been a year since I first attended Identities behind a lens and in front of the stage. This year (watch the footage here!), I tried my hand on the stage itself, taking some action shots as time permitted and the music moved me. 

Identities, a campus-wide fashion show focusing on inclusion and displaying clothing in this year's theme of Fashion & Technology, provided a day full of meeting new pals, strutting our stuff, and twirling around in the designer garbs we were given. 

Though modeling in the show was more my priority than photographing it, I stole away for a few moments to capture the awe and allure that would enrapture the audience later that night. Though, caveat: these are only a fraction of the stunning models, as I was restricted to photographing those around me who happened to be on my same snack/dance break schedule. 

This Identities show was particularly special to me because my family flew up for the occasion (having the chance to check out one of my Admissions Info Sessions and Crimson Key tours while they were up here), and it was the dose of home that I needed to finish out the semester. 

Peep shoes by Thesis Couture (importing Nasa technology to comfy footwear!) & some of the more tech inspired looks: 

So thank you, Identities, for an excuse to get gussied up, see my family, and feel the electricity emanating from the bumpin' tunes and cheers from the faceless audience (those spotlights were BRIGHT!) <3

Xx, Maia 

All photos by me, except me lacing up my Thesis heels (Photographed by Olivia Nie)

 

Artsy April: Student Spotlight

 

In keeping in this month's #arstyApril theme, today's post features an art installation constructed on campus by student, friend, dancer, lover of live, and all around gem, Bruno! Today's high of 70's and sunny sunshine have students crawling out of the library woodworks to chill in the yard, lounge on the HAM steps (ode to G.G.), and enjoy all the art that surrounds them - especially those created by their peers!

This work, while sadly no longer displayed (yes, catch me featuring unseeable art, sorry) hung in the Carpenter Center on campus last semester. I photographed the work for Bruno in an attempt to preserve the movement and functionality of the piece before it got torn down (haha, because it's made mostly of fabric). Anyway, here's the low down, straight from the artist's mind and pen:

“I slipped” (or at least that was the title a couple months ago) is a three-dimensional representation of a two-dimensional recording of movement. After working with charcoal drawings that documented dance, I decided to reiterate one of those drawings in three-dimensional form.

This is the fifth iteration of it—wood, iron, resin, wire, and plastic were all involved at one point or another, but they were not the right materials. The skeleton is made by a couple pieces of hand-bent steel that were welded together. The leg at the bottom is a plaster cast of my own the was cracked in half and glued back together, and I used dyed chiffon as the body of the sculpture. It hangs from a single point and the fabric flows freely except for the anchor points, which means that light touch and wind can make it move and spin. The sculpture dances.

What I enjoy most about it is its asymmetry, given that it is the result of what is supposed to be a symmetrical movement. The leg cast is en pointe which alludes to dance, and the flowing fabric wrapping around the cast as the piece spins creates a sense of freedom and movement which comes with dance but is recreated with inactive materials in this case.

I see people interacting with it by gently touching or pushing it around, although my friends have been reluctant to do so at first. I guess looking at it is nice too. As a VES concentrator, I was lucky to continue my research of bodily movement and its reverberations through different materials as part of classwork. It was a fulfilling project and I’m excited about future exploration and potential collaborations with other media!

Having been able to interact with the work myself, I felt seamlessly (another fabric pun) connected to Bruno's unique movement, while also able to inject the movement of my own body interacting with the work. The wire is surprisingly heavy, and pushing my weight against it reminded me of the juxtaposition of the weightlessness and immense effort of dance. Kudos, Bruno on this stellar piece! Now put down your phone or your computer and enjoy the freshness of the day outside! 

Xx, Maia
 

Artsy April: Materiality of Mourning

 

It's April (the third to be exact) and finally feeling like Spring with this post-snow storm heatwave! And though this past weekend had less than favorable weather conditions, the campus didn't slow down, nor did the traction of students and guests to the Harvard Art Museums and the Student Art Show skip a beat! In honor of that, the immense time I spend in HAM (not the meat, but the museum for short), and the fact that I'm realizing art, which are half of my studies, truly make me happy, I'm self-proclaiming a month long holiday: Artsy April! Let this be a month of eyes attuned to the aesthetic and an overall appreciation for anything artistic - including gloves found on the floor (I'm looking at you Bruno, @fallinginglove). 

This month, you'll see posts about current exhibits, student-artist-friends-extroardinaire, Instagram geniuses, and more! So let's inaugurate this initiative with an exhibition currently on display at HAM that is near and dear to me, for a counter intuitive reason:

I'm referring to the Doris Salcedo Exhibit The Materiality of Mourning. (3rd floor of HAM, check it out, check it out!)

I'm no stranger to this exhibit. Rather, I had actually seen it on display at the Perez Art Museum of Miami last summer, before it travelled up to Boston. I remember going to PAMM, expecting to see some brightly colored anything (typical of happy, Miami summertime), and being confronted with the ghostly muted tones of these works - an initial reaction given my love for color. As personal background, I visited this exhibit in Miami during the time in which I was deciding to study computer science or art history (before the combination of doing both struck me), and pitching to my parents why I thought art history would be the path for me. I remember coming home that day, kind of disappointed with what I had seen, and sitting down to talk to my parents to quasi "pitch" them my plan of study. 

Naturally, my parents asked about my day, and honed in on the fact that I didn't "like" what I had seen at the museum. They pointed out that I'm not going to "like" (what I define to be visually pleasing) all the art I encounter, but that shouldn't mean I should shy away from it. Rather, I should dive into why it affronts me, and learn more. I left Miami shortly thereafter, kind of defeated that maybe art history wasn't the way for me. (Important note: I'm a fan of wall text, I know it's controversial as in "should art speak for itself? Or does it really need an explanation?" But I find value in the words written to supplement the works, not substitute them, and realized I hadn't given the Salcedo exhibit enough opportunity to learn and read about it to understand and appreciate it).

Fast forward to Sophomore fall, I'm about to declare my joint plan of study, I start working at the Harvard Art Museums as a member of the Student Board, and I'm told The Materiality of Mourning will be exhibited at our very own museum! I thought, "This is my chance to prove to myself that I can 'like' something that I don't initially gravitate towards, merely if it be only for the thought process and artistic merit." 

This is when I was presented with the opportunity for a pre-opening night walk through with the curator, Mary Schneider Enriquez, a personal friend of Doris Salcedo. I cannot even begin to explain how my eyes opened, my heart opened, and my entire being accepted this exhibit - and I knew, that this was the right path of study for me. 

With all of that personal significance aside, the exhibit itself is quite incredible. It's incredible in a very hallowing and moving way, given that it deals with death, violence, and quite literally, the materials of mourning. As a viewer, you're presented with four major works: toppled over armoires physically conjoined with tables, mutilated chairs, a fabric of sutured roses, and a series of three vapor-like "shirts". Each work calls attention to violence, in Colombia and Detroit for example, by comparing mutilation of common, often household objects, to the aggression against people. 

Untitled 2008 displays two items of familiar furniture, a table and an armoire, and forces them together in an unnaturally chilling way. The table being just long enough to fit a body, the cement filled in like a grave. 

Thou-less presents a series of chairs that are crushed, reformed, and otherwise butchered. The chairs evoke spaces in which bodies once occupied - which I conceptually understood, but felt in practice now every time I leave a classroom, and an imprint of the student body is left on the disarray of chairs. 

A Flor de Piel is probably the most intricate, materially, as it verbally translates to skin of flowers, and it evokes the softness of a bedroom sheet yet with the colors of blood and death, physically made from dyed roses sewn together with suture thread - like the sealing of wounds. Here, Salcedo points out that violence can even occur in the sanctuary of your own room.

Disremembered is a series of shirts that are made of nickel dyed needles and silk thread. The overall form is meant to signify the casual act of hanging up a shirt or jacket at the end of the day when you get home. It also alludes to the presence of a person's body that would normally be in the shirt, but now all that's left is a hollow artifact of the person who is gone. The needles elicit the "pins and needles" feeling that crawls on the skin of those mourning. 

At the risk of not doing the exhibit enough justice with my cursory explanations (nor seeking to turn this blogpost into a robust paper for one of my art history courses), I felt that this portion of the exhibit catalogue succinctly encapsulated the works:

In Disremembered, Salcedo continues her pursuit of a materiality that is all but fleeting. Like a Flor de Piel, the sculptures in this series seem to be just on the verge of disappearing, although these works are not constructed of organic materials. Each is a seemingly fragile, specter-like form of human scale that appears to float against the wall. 

Moral of the story, please check out this exhibit for yourself! I only hope you take more time than I originally did to truly fathom the brilliance underpinning these works, and let yourself feel the desperation and sense of mourning that is evoked. 

Other moral of the story, taking this month to post about different arts will hopefully bring to all of your attentions the wonderful, artistic opportunities that surround us daily. So go forth, my friends, and find your art! I suggest stopping at Jenny's Cafe in HAM on your way ;)

Xx, Maia & the first installation of #artsyApril
 

History of a Hat

 

6pm sharp. Already late to the reading of a book I can’t even tell you the title of. Perched in the back row, stuffed between toes of boots and heels of chairs – I tried my best to listen to the author, I really did. But between not being able to see him as he spoke, and the worry of ripping my extremely, unnecessarily tight pants as I sat cross-contorted on the floor, was not the most conducive mix for focus.

Straining my ears and shifting my weight, I looked around the room to see a haze of backs, shoes, and the ceiling. As my eyes veered upwards, I paused at a hat. A hat woven of straw it seemed. One that was worn to its bone – a muslin shell peaking out vulnerably under the torn out chunks. I’d never seen a hat like this. One that screamed a story yet harbored such mystery. Pools of dust collected in the central crevice and along the base, tucked under the fraying ribbon.

I had to know the story. I had to know what could have possibly happened to this hat to cause fractures in such unusual places. From the worn, white, denim jacket to the ruggedly, smoothed-out hands I knew our protagonist was an artist. And every artist has a story – his hat definitely told a tale.

Entranced by the hat and the sound of an invisible voice, I started thinking of my own storylines for such a vivid visual. Had our protagonist gotten in a scuffle with a horse that took his hat in a fury and returned it with nibbled corners? Had it been unworn for so long that it collected dust and cracked upon re-use? Or had it been a staple of his wardrobe for countless years that it weathered with the elements of time?

It turned out to be the latter – the most simple of my plots, but still the most satisfying.

After the clapping for the un-named speaker ceased, man with hat left and exchanged a smile. Perhaps he somehow heard my muted shutter as I snuck pictures of the hat during the talk. Regardless of the reasoning for his farewell kindness, I shuffled after him and introduced myself. Without allotting time for him to respond to my introduction, I blurted how fascinated I’d become with his hat and slightly begged him to tell me the story behind it.

“Oh the hat? It’s not nearly as fascinating as I am.”

A palm, not straw, woven hat purchased at a Harvard Square Street Fair in 1999 for $10 at an Ecuadorian booth.

He admits he should’ve bought 10 of them because this one is so worn and they’re rather expensive to order online. 18 years with this hat. 18 years of scraping it with bags strapped and unstrapped across his body. Several moments he’s sat on it or tossed it. One time it was run over by a motorcycle.

He laughs when we, for Lily and I were on this endeavor together, admit we spent our time at the talk mesmerized by his hat. “Sometimes I’m so embarrassed by it. Today I even tried to sit in the back to not block anyone’s view, but you girls found a way.”

History of a hat. His story of a hat.  

Xx, Maia 
 

Sugar, (Bajan) Spice, & Everything Nice

 

Sometimes I just feel the sunshine in my bones. It's there tickling my body, rejuvenating my happiness, and reinvigorating my curiosities. Maybe it's because I was born in the sunshine that I feel recharged in it, or maybe it's the lack of Vitamin D in Boston that felt so refreshing during this week in Barbados. All in all, I'm happy to say that the sun and the salt is one of my favorite recipes for revitalization. 

For spring break (spranggg breakkk?) three of my friends and I ventured off to Barbados thanks to the tropical oasis Leila's family has here. In a rotation of pools, beaches, island adventures, and a promise to myself to not touch schoolwork, I had the most carefree time I've had in a while. 

And, for any close readers out there, I actually managed to tan! Yup, good 'ol "I don't tan, I burn" has been disproven in favor of the golden crisp I managed to achieve! (Pic or it didn't happen, I know): 

With this weeklong adventure, came ample naps, quiet days, and a sprinkling of pretty silly things. For one, there was a daily battle of whether or not to jump off the small cliff at the beach. The vacation daredevil in me said, "Do it do it do it, you gotta do it!" while the reasonable, almost 6 foot self said, "You're going to hit the bottom and break your legs, stat." It didn't help that this angel and devil combo manifested in two young brothers, Josh and Jean-Lucas. They were vacationers and veterans of the cliff, probably 10 and 15 years old, respectively, and strongly encouraged Val and I to jump off every time we climbed up there for the view. 

Long story short, we didn't jump. Josh did, though. In a baby banter, he tried to cajole me to jump, and when I refused he asked, "Then can you take a sweet shot of me jumping?" "Sure." 

Val and I thought nothing of the exchange after that, until we ran into young Josh and his family at a restaurant in the resort. We were dining with fellow Harvard peeps who also happened to be in Barbados for break (cue, "Wow, what a small world?!"), when Josh tapped me on the shoulder from behind and handed me a cup of ice cream from the Village Cafe. I turned around, giggled out of amusement, nervousness, and confusion, and blurted, "You know this is really creepy, right? Like where did this ice cream come from?" In hindsight, I realize a little kid wasn't going to poison me, but stranger danger, right? Turns out he was 11, offended that I assumed he was 10, and asked if we'd buy him an adult beverage in exchange for his kindness. Nope. His mom also winked at me when they walked by - a fan of his pre-summer lovin? 

Aside from the novelty of ~young love~, Caroline and Leila (the New York Northerness to me and Val's Floridian "Southerness") found the abundance of guava products to be so rare and exciting! Val and I shared a Cuban chuckle, and proceeded to buy the juice of our childhood. 

Turns out the it's a small world after all, and you're bound to find unexpected friends on the beach just napping and toasting coconuts!

The day we ventured away from the water and into the island still managed to remind me of home - not with the aimless roaming of chickens, but with the lush botanical garden that triggered feels from, you guessed it, Fairchild! 

Back on the beach we sipped on piña coladas, read books for pleasure (a novel concept?!), and got absolutely destroyed by the undercurrent of the waves - resulting in copious amounts of sand in our hair and... beyond. I'm fishing out flecks of it from my ear as I write. 

And though I did manage to nurse a tan this week, that wasn't free from a torched shoulder here and there, or, in Val's case, a complete oversight of covering "the girls": 

Guess everything truly is sunnier on vacation, even the broadness of our smiles as we pack up and head back to the Bostonian blizzard. 

Xx, Sun-Kissed Maia 
 

Housing Day: a Harvard Holiday

 

There are two major days in the school year when Harvard becomes Harvard State: the Harvard-Yale Football Game (and we all know how that turned out...) & Housing Day - the latter of which occurred just last week. 

Housing Day is the day we don face paint, construct NSFW signs, throw quippy inter-house chants at one another, and physically storm into freshman dorms to announce where they'll be living for the next three years. If this all sounds crazy to you, you're not wrong. I woke up at 7:00am to draw some whiskers (reppin the Winthrop Lion) and get so hype I wouldn't feel the cold. 

In the days leading up to this one, all the 12 houses produce a Housing Day video in which they attempt to entice the freshmen into willing the laws of the universe to provide them their dream house. I must say, Winthrop's video was stellar - and not just because I helped to film it... 

Anyway, at 7:45am, Winthropians sprinted to the Yard and claimed stake near University Hall - fending off Currier's, "Where is Winthrop?" chant with, "Not in the Quad!" Disclaimer: all of the houses are actually amazing, they truly do become your home, and all the teasing/tomfoolery on Housing Day is all in good fun <3

At 8:30am, Dean Khurana (and friends) provide the House reps with envelopes of the freshman who got 'Thropped (in our case). Following that hand off, flocks of upperclassmen bombard freshman entryways for the most exciting reveal and abundance of hugs with strangers. Forgive this blurry photo, but low quality pic, high quality happiness am I right?? 

All in all, Housing Day is one of our opportunities to truly showcase community pride and ~school spirit~. I will also fully admit that I proceeded to deliver a 100+ person information session at the Admissions Office to prospective students and their families while wearing my lion ears and tail... 

And with that, happy Housing Day! May the River Gods be ever in your favor. 

Xx, Maia 

Posters as promised:

 

Twentieth Revolution

 

On my twentieth revolution around the sun, I felt fortunate to be surrounded by loved ones in all capacities: friends, family, and four-legged siblings. I'm not a "birth month" or even "birth week" kind of gal, but my birthday is a very special day for me, and a borderline National Holiday? That's a stretch, but indulge me. 

This year, amidst midterms and burning out on the road to Spring Break, I threw together the most hodge podge, yet symbolic, celebration scheme. I'm not kidding when I say I took a midterm Monday night (hence the skippage of the Mod Monday this week), blinfoldedly bumbled around campus (too many details to go into now...), and sprinted over to the left ledge of Widener for a birthday party. Yes, I had a birthday party at the library. On the left ledge. Yup. People did, in fact show up, and I was both pleasantly surprised and over the moon. 

From 11:30pm-midnight, I forced friends to brave the cold (rewarding them with hot chocolate, cake, bubbly at midnight, and my hugs, of course), abandon their theses for a sec, and dance suspended off the ground at Widener Library. At one point, Securitas peaked out of the library, shot one glance our way, chuckled, and left us alone - #bless. At midnight, I felt the warmth from my friends (despite losing feeling in my toes) and welcomed in my twenties with a phone call from Sandy, which received audience laughter when I answered with a, "Hiiiii Mami!" 

Post Danza Kuduro with the friends left standing, sleep was in order before a bday breakfast with the gals. I'm not joking when I say I planned a bday breakfast (not lunch, when more people would've probably been awake) for the sole purpose of consuming the Cream Chipped Beef Biscuits from Henrietta's Table - better known as a buttery heart attack in a bowl. 

Fast forward to 3pm when class was over and I was headed to the airport in order to celebrate with my parents. And, though I received many a puzzled look and snide, "Wow... that's extra" from some friends about me up and leaving for Miami. I must say it made my birthday. Being able to spend every birthday with my parents has been a godsend, and I sure wasn't going to stop now.

Little did I know my parents had flown in my sister as a surprise! The four of us shared a delicious dinner in South Beach, celebrating the last minutes of my birthday and kicking off a fabulous new decade. 

In the morning, I re-enacted a silly, over-sized balloon pic tradition - up until the zero floated away and I went from 20 to 2 real quick.

Then Sandy and I celebrated with Val, reminiscing over past birthdays spent together, with the most visually pleasing breakfast. Ever. 

Suffice it to say, I felt so loved that day. Birthdays, to me, are such a celebration of life - a yearly reminder of the beautiful people that are on this journey with me, flowing in and out, and contributing to who I grow to become with each revolution around the sun. 

Xx, Maia 
 

Cool Beans: Sister Act

 

Full disclosure: I’m truly obsessed with, inspired by, and in awe of the Hartzell sisters.

I first met Jordan, two years my junior, four years ago during a summer program at Brown (yes, I was one of those, and yes, it was a good omen for Jordy because she’ll be Brown Class of 2021!), and had the pleasure of spending some summer time with her this year as she did a program at Harvard. Her older sister, Sydney, who is a freshman at NYU this year, and I have never met - yet we've always felt like kindred spirits, peas in a pod, the whole nine yards of familiar twin metaphors.

For background and general amazement: Jordy is a senior in high school who is going to Brown next fall. She is involved in physics outreach in her community as the founder of the PA Young Women in Physics Conference (an event for high school students to listen to research talks of female physicists from across the state - the goal being to provide high school girls with female role models and expose high school students to real physics work). She's also an amateur science writer (check out her posts here and here!), and a guest speaker to a class/women's group on the state of women in science. She hopes to find an interdisciplinary approach to studying physics/maybe computer science/neuro at Brown. 

 Sydney is currently a second-semester freshman at NYU. She is passionate about art, ballet, learning, and food. She recently started working for Hannah Bronfman, the founder of the nyc-based health and wellness startup HBFIT. Though she’s new to NYC, she feels at home in its chaos and is looking forward to new adventures!

Lucky for me, Sydney was home for the weekend and eager to hop on FaceTime with Jordan for a warm and sunny start to our Sunday yesterday! I went into this convo fully expecting to feel some sisterly love, and left with expectations exceeded and feeling more motivated by these girls than I thought was possible. 

Tell me a little about where you’re from. What do you miss? What do you not

Sydney: Pretty interesting dichotomy in our responses because we’re both at different points in our lives since I’ve just left home and she’s still here feeling like she wants to leave. Now that I have left this area, I can’t express how grateful I am to have grown up here in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania - you’d only know it for Bucknell University, unless you’re visiting the Federal Penitentiary... 

Jordan: It's very community oriented and familial, which I love, but it's hard to reinvent yourself in a small high school that you've been going to for twelve years, which is the part of it that makes me want to leave.

S: Jordan and I are similar in our social standing in that we’re not introverted, have you heard of ambivert? We can be extroverted around each other… Jordan and I spent the majority of the last two years of high school in the library together. We’re kind of outliers in that way. Now that I’m in New York everyone thinks I’m such a cliche. I didn’t grow up under a literal rock!

What’s your background? Phone and literal

J: Mine's my Dog Tashi - she’s on a boat! This summer my dog lived on this boat with my parents, so this is a constant reminder that my dog is cooler than me...

S: My background is marble because, I mean I know that’s a thing, it’s trendy (J: It’s clean!), but for me it feels like creating space. I used to have pictures of my boyfriends - not my boyfriends I’m monogamous -  I love my boyfriend, but even my homescreen is just a gradient. I got the vogue app and it froze on the screen before it enters the homescreen so I took a screenshot of it thinking, “wow this color is so pretty!" My life is busy enough that I need control in the one place I’m always looking.

What’s the story of your name?

J: Ours kind of go together. We have one more older sister, Alexandra, and my mom’s plan was, if she had all girls, to name them all with unisex names, she wanted us all to have androgynous, strong names.

S: Essentially what she’s trying to say, I think, is that my parents thought of androgynous names because they were strong and sexy. The set up was our older sister to be "Alex", but she ruined it with Ally - though Ally is a beautiful name. Back in the really old days, when people would wear cumber-buns (no, wait, that’s the prom thing?) guys used to be named Sydney. I’m really drawn to the name Taylor and Charlotte for a daughter but to call Charlie. I really like Jordan but my sister and boyfriend are both named Jordan and I just can't keep surrounding myself with Jordans!

What’s one fact about you?

J: When I was little, I don't know if it was me wanting Sydney to think I was cool, but I would memorize her favorite things. Syd would say, “update my favorite store” and I would commit it to memory. And then when people would ask about her favorite things, like her favorite flavor of ice cream, I would say, "she doesn’t really like ice cream, but if she did it’d be a chocolate milkshake."

S: My random fact is gonna counter that and make me seem like a terrible sister... Growing up, we would only fly to Disney once a year and it was a big deal. My dad would allow us one treat each before the plane. Jordan would get sour skittles and I would get normal skittles, and I would eat all my skittles and Jordan would save hers. Then when we took off I was like, "Jordan do you want to play a game, I’m gonna close my eyes and you feed me your skittles and I’ll guess what color they are!" And then I ate all her skittles. 

What’s your favorite aspect of your closest friend? Besides each other, haha. 

S: My favorite aspect of Alessandra is that she’s very strong willed. She doesn’t compromise herself or her values in the face of a social situation, which is something I seek out in a friend because, throughout my life I have kind of isolated myself when I don't feel comfortable around people who prefer a social situation to maintaining their morals. Maybe I should change it to authentic, because that’s something super hard to find especially in New York. We can tend to differ once in a while but I think that’s something I respect more than someone who just goes along with what you're saying.

J: I admire my best friend, Alyssa. The word I’ve used to describe her is reliable because if i need to talk to someone or she hears something and wants to share it with me, I can rely on her to actually be excited for me when good things happen to me - that’s kind of rare. She got into Carnegie Mellon engineering and I think I was happier for her to get into her school than me to get into mine!

Favorite conversation starter?

S: ooh OOH this is so good, wait lemme think. I always lead with a joke about being from a small town. People will ask, "Oh where are you from?" "Pennsylvania, you wouldn't know it, it's a really tiny town, we have a motto “medicate, educate, and incarcerate" (they say in sync) for the three things we're known for. When I begin with that I'm from a small town, the expectation is very low about where the conversation will follow haha.

J: In terms of meeting new people, we both like to make jokes. Syd is the wittiest person I know, she’s quick with a pun which I know you are too Maia (S: "Dad thinks my dad jokes are terrible.").

S: I’m a huge fan of pick up lines. With guys I might as well be out there and if it doesn't work it's fine. I asked my prom date last year to prom, it was very last minute, I texted him asking if he wanted to go with me, and the week before we had had a competition with pick up lines. So the last night he picked me up in his car and a bunch of limes fell out, and he said “sorry I’m really bad at pickup limes.”

J: At least with Syd, she’s a very good listener and always makes you feel like what you’re saying is valuable which makes her really likable. She’s good at reflecting what people say.

If you had to think of a mantra your family grew up saying, what would it be?

J: So my dad loves these books called the Aubrey Maturin series, there’s 26 of them and they’re a Napoleonic war series. He loves ships, and he's always said, “steer your ship”, and it's something that’s become inspirational but also normal in the house. It means if you're in a situation you're always the captain and it’s your choice to steer it - you have control. And it’s a less harsh way of saying “get control”.

S: She’s exactly right, it’s been my whole life that he’s said that. Especially in New York, I hear it in the back of my head in a tough situation. 

What music are you listening to now?

S: I’m really into music, my favorite thing about music is curating it. I love making playlists!

J: I listen to music by month and year - Syd organizes it for me.

S: I love making custom playlists. When I first started dating Jordan, I would make him playlists on Spotify and he would be like, "What is this?" (J: "It’s you in music!"). Making mixtapes is my idea of true romance, so that’s what I do on Spotify. My fave quote is, “art decorates space and music decorates time.” It’s so true that music really heightens emotion - it has the power to motivate me or calm me. Now to counter that, I’ve currently been listening to the 50s shades darker soundtrack... I also like the new frank ocean song Slide

J: We have one of those amazon Alexa things and we always play jazz. Around the holidays it's Billie Holiday and Louis Armstrong, it's always on really low volume and you don't really notice it, but there’s always jazz or concert piano - even our dogs like it!

Go to outfit. What’s your uniform? What is a classic look that everyone would say, “that’s so Jordan/Sydney”

J: Mines probably simpler than yours haha. I usually look fairly sporty so I have a pair of old Nikes and high top Vans and wear that with leggings and a sweatshirt. My new favorite sweatshirt is my Brown one because it’s so “homey”. (S: "You need to get me a brown sweatshirt, one that says Brown not just a brown one lol"). I also love leather jackets over like a silver dress or a patterned dress, it makes me feel so strong!

S: I’m all about less is more with style. I really like the new french look where it’s supposed to be effortless but for me it’s a lot of effort. In New York, everyone wears all black so I don’t own anything that has color, except white, which I guess has all the color. When I shop I buy all the same things but the newest version.

J: Syd’s good that she has a few key things that she can wear really well

S: When I find something that goes with a lot of things I will invest in it. A classic outfit I would say high waisted jeans ALWAYS (I feel so comfortable in high waisted jeans, I only wear high waisted bathing suits because I love that 1950s look), maybe a white button down thats kind of loose so I can tie it in the front, or a blouse/cami, and either leather jacket or a bomber jacket - some sort of easy peasy that kind of thing.

What’s an accessory or piece of Jewelry that you’d like to be remembered by or that is iconic you?

J: We both have these little necklaces. Mines gold, hers is platinum, we got them three years ago, and we like to think they’re like Twitches. I also have a little third ear piercing which is a little out of character for me - I don't wear anything other than these and little gold hoops.

S: I have very tiny ears. I don’t know if anyone noticed. When we went to get her ear pierced the second time I was sitting in the chair, and it didn’t feel very Sydney, so I said, "No nonononono!" and I ran out of the chair. My other thing that I wear is this ring. It’s a sapphire but it almost looks black. My mom and I got it together before I went to Paris one summer, and I made her kiss it so I always had her love and now I haven’t really taken it off. I do like minimal jewelry, the other reason why is because I tried to wear a watch one time and I took it off at the gym and lost it. I can’t have anything nice.

What’s a current trend that you really like or are envious of?

J: I’ve gotten into fashion week so I’m trying to think deep into things I’ve been seeing. I love the new work out chic, athleisure, because I love to be comfortable. I love bringing back utility as fashion, like windbreakers. 

S: I think inherently I’m not a trendy person, I almost try not to be trendy, (J: "You're counter cool!!"), I try to have a timeless style, which I don't always have because I'm mostly in workout clothes. The thing that I love is lipstick thats supposed to be worn in, like stain, it’s kind of messy. Jeanne Damas, she’s a french it girl, style guru, and that’s her thing - she’ll put on bold lipstick and blot it off so there’s a tinge left. I feel very uncomfortable in bold lipstick but I love buying it, so I blot it off. I’m glad it’s a thing now because I feel like I’ve always done it!

What’s a trend that you wish would die?

J: I hate when people wear t-shirts when its freezing out. I don't think its a trend but its an act of ignorance or defiance, unless it comes from not having a coat then I totally understand and want to help in some way, but when its like a macho thing it bothers me. In a more general trendy sense, if you put fashion above utility at the point of being detrimental to yourself I'm not a fan.

Signature phrase. What do you say a lot?

S: Wait, can we think of each other’s? Because I don’t know what I say...

J: I’m sorry we’re spending so much time looking out the window, there’s something about Pennsylvania's rolling hills that really makes you think lol.

S: Oh! I say, "Word" a lot!

J: As an affirmation - like she’s bringing back 1990s Will Smith.

S: I text it sometimes and people are like, "What?” and I’m like, "Like 'power to you'!”

J: There was an episode of New Girl where someone told Jess he loved her and she didn't say it back so she did finger guns, and thats become a thing for me. I also snap, like when people go to poetry slams (S: "You go to poetry slams?"), or especially in class if I like what they’re saying I’ll give them a couple snaps.

Soundtrack to your life?

J: Capsize by Emily Warren, this was my summer song, and even now, it makes me so happy

S: The Way You look tonight with Frank Sinatra is my favorite, favorite song but that’s not the soundtrack because thats just me being like, “The way I look tonighttttt.” Another song I like is Paper Doll by John Mayer. I don't take it for the meaning I think it actually has. For me it's more my self identity but the outfits represent that I'm evolving all the time based on my experiences and my circumstance - I always think about that song in relation to myself.

Spirit dessert?

S: This is gonna sound so dumb but it's so me. There's a grocery store on long island called Fairway and they have these chocolate malt balls. I don't know if that's a dessert or a candy. I went to Rosh Hashanah at my boyfriend’s house and they put out dessert, and they had a jar of malt balls in front of his mom and his aunt and I kept sneaking 3 until they were gone. I love chocolate more than anything sweet. I’m also an advocate of having chocolate every day instead of restricting yourself and then binging. Anyway, there’s like an inch of chocolate before you hit the malt ball on these things - I love it!

J: Mine would definitely be sour gummy worms. At the Bucknell library they always have little baggies, and I just love sour candy and candy in general like a 5 year old, or ice cream, because I’m 5.

What’s your favorite thing to gift people?

J: I was really honored when someone recommended a book to me. So my new favorite thing is to gift a book, and personally pick it out for them. And also give them my favorite book. My favorite book is “The Trespasser” it’s a mystery, and inside the cover I'll write, “It’s so much fun just like you!”

S: I have 3 things. One is specifically for my boyfriend: I gift him the clothing I want him to wear. Second, I love to gift and receive flowers, actually I’m allergic to flowers but I love having flowers and plants near me. I am actually allergic to most living things, but I love having them near me in my space because I soak up their energy - not in a bad way, they still have some energy left. I love to gift candles because I am an old soul, even though I live in a dorm building and I can’t light them...

J: Syd actually came home and she brought me something, wait I’m gonna get it, she got me this card that says “it’s been a while crocodile.”

S: And YET I wrote nothing in it - I just got her the card haha...

J: I also think orange is really inspirational, and I also love planners, and she got me this orange planner that I love. 

S: UGH same, I have like a fetish for planners!

Describe yourself as a human bean:

(Note: for this last bit, I had them text me their answers about describing themselves as human beans and then had them describe each other as human beans aloud. I was kind of curious to see how they saw themselves and how they saw each other)

TEXTS:

S: I would describe myself as authentic, empathetic, and curious about life. I've always stayed true to myself and I feel like having a strong sense of self has guided me through tough situations and challenges. I would say that I'm empathetic because even unintentionally, I feel connected to other human beans. I feel like this leads me into my next adjective, but the connection that I share with other people makes me more curious about life and it's many facets... the idea that we're ever-evolving beans who each experience hundreds of different lives within our own. 

J: Me as a bean: so I love coffee (I'm a two a day kind of gal) and in connection to a literal coffee bean (and mod and Bean ;))I'd like to say that I'm energetic -- the qualities of which I'm most proud kind of stem from this... I'm typically a self-starter and I love to make decisions (though I agonize about simple ones like dessert choices)

The sisterly reveal: 

S: I did it so seriously, whoops! I think I did it the way I would think my teacher would want me to do *face palms*. I feel like Jordan has always been my best friend, my whole life. I love my older sister, but I feel very connected to Jordan (J: "We have telepathy!"), she’s passionate about life - it's not necessarily rare, but it’s tangible. She’s also extremely motivated which radiates. When I’m around her I feel motivated. In general she’s incredibly hardworking, and you always want to be around someone like that. She has an amazing work ethic. Also, she just carries herself very well for her age: she’s extremely mature, wise, and passionate. She’s so funny - like unintentionally funny. She also has a fantastic jazz singer voice! She has this huge belt voice when she’s imitating other jazz artists!

J: In describing Sydney, she’s someone who when you’re talking to her she makes you feel important, heard, comfortable, and valued. The other thing about Sydney is that she’s very introspective and very reflective too, which is something cool about her because she’ll bring out another perspective when you’re talking. She’s incredibly passionate which is inspiring to be around, even if it's about an essay she wrote for class, she’ll turn it into an introspective reflection of what she’s been thinking about (S: "I think that’s because I’m a nerd."). She’s incredibly witty, I always used to say you laugh at your own jokes and you're the only one laughing.

S: I really resonate with this meme of Drake sending a text and laughing because you know it’s going to be fire!

J: The highest compliment I've ever heard, is someone calling Lupita Nyongo a "force." I think Sydney walks into a room and she’s a force. 

Cue the sisterly awwing and hugging, making me realize I should probably call my sister more and compensate for the six year gap we have as opposed to the Hartzell single year gap. Suffice it to say, I fully expected to feel full on sisterly love during this conversation, but felt even more energy and love emanating from these girls than I had anticipated!

All photos courtesy of their strong, and aesthetic social media presences. 

Xx, Maia