For a long time, I was a die-hard country fan. I celebrated the likes of Shania Twain, Jason Aldean, and Miranda Lambert. I loved country music so much that I would receive side eyes from a lot of my friends because so many thought it was odd for me to not only listen to country music, but also enjoy it. But I didn’t care what anyone thought of me, it was my safe place. Then I started noticing a pattern of behavior.
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No sé imaginen la maravilla que se siente sentir aparecer estas nuevas partes de uno mismo, conocer lados de nosotros mismos que en la cultura que vivíamos a lo mejor no han podido lucir.
This week on the Fluf we’re disrupting identity. Stay with us as we delve into the process of growing up between cultures, discuss expressions of love across language, and tackle country music’s slow burn toward inclusivity.
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![poem [the bus says evil!]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/53ca81ede4b0939090607db3/1568319569465-I6X2TCHVHCOZ0MEMVZFF/IMG_4814.jpg)
I was walking hard and suddenly / the wind picked up
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She sits pulling on strands of her hair trying to decide if she needs a haircut
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When you write a piece of poetry based on a piece of art it is called ekphrasis //
A poem by Christina Schmitt
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Stay with us this week as we deal kindly in verse.
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Cleansing and fasting are different. I knew the whole time I would return, I would eat grease, I would again salt my life with curation.
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Here at the Fluf we think too much time is centered around gravity: standing up to its heaviness, its exhausting pressures, its 9.8 m/s2. So today we’re letting it all go.
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