zoe loukia

serendipitous saturday morning

Writing this in true Sunday fashion, with the exception of it being Saturday, moka pot coffee1 in bed at a crisp 12:57pm. This morning/afternoon, I'm listening to these tracks:

After falling asleep listening to some old chill playlists from years before, I woke up to Joni Mitchell's My Old Man. I must've nodded off sometime around 2? Not for the sake of staying up, but for the sake of enjoying those quiet hours in the night to myself, for the sake of listening to music on it's own, no multitasking to pull my mind one way or another.

I like to keep my curtains wide open, letting the light in. When I was younger I thought it would help me get out of bed earlier if I couldn't hide away in the darkness well into the morning, but all it made me was exceptionally good at sleeping in broad daylight. My body wanted me to wake up around 9:30, my mind lazed in the sun half-awake until 11:30.

Groggy, a little disheveled, and with one goal in mind, I did manage to wrest myself towards the kitchen for my aforementioned coffee. It's something of a ritual, rinsing out the moka pot, scooping out my cheap coffee (I save the real espresso for special mornings), settling it down on the stove, watching the pot that never boils. Only this morning, the door cracked open just as I had finished my coffee prep, and suddenly my kitchen felt just a little warmer.

My friend walked in with my roommate, and instantly we were chatting along. She came over to go to the gym with my roommate, but I like to think the inescapable coziness of a slow morning and the smell of coffee kept her lingering around2. Architecture is one of those programs that makes it near-impossible to see your friends in the busy periods, so moments like this really make my day.

Once they split off to get ready, I returned here, to my bed, and started writing away. I've been quite lazy with my Sunday posts, which may be a reflection of my laziness towards creation in general lately. It's something I'm actively trying to fight, but it's been an uphill battle. As I sat in bed, I looked at my felt bulletin boards on the wall across from me, and saw Parker's postcard to me from a while back thanking me for the Sunday posts. This isn't to say I write these for any clout reasons, but man, isn't it nice to know there's people rooting for you out there? Hi Parker!

I keep a lot of ephemera from zine trades and letters on my walls for this exact purpose. There's a whole world of people who's work I love to see, so it's a fair assumption to think the road goes both ways, right? I missed my February con moto due to the craziness of school, skipping a month of my zine for the first time. I'm trying to forgive myself and pick it back up this month so to not let the lost streak ruin my attitude towards it. All the zines and prints staring back at me right now are beckoning me to get back on track, so once I get my studio in order, you best believe con moto's coming back.

I hope everyone's having a lovely weekend! My coffee's done, so no excuse to avoid studio anymore. Off to work I go.

  1. I'm kind of having fun with footnotes lately, in the fashion of so many writers that I love. At the start of my morning blogging adventures, I had a crappy Ikea french press. I still have it, but since being gifted this moka pot by my brother's girlfriend, I can't imagine going back to the press.↩

  2. A phenomenon I find really interesting is how the people who love the smell of coffee the most often don't drink it. A guy I knew literally worked as a barista, loved the smell, but didn't drink a drop of coffee. He likened it to not getting high off your own supply. Fair enough.↩

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