Posts in Coffee
Something Sweet Series

Sometimes you just need a little something sweet to make a Monday morning less sour.

I think I've watched this Ben Howard at Lowlands 2012 video at least 10 times in the past week alone. It's the perfect video to put on while you're going about your other business. But before you dive right into your work with this magical man as a soundtrack, take the time to watch the first song -- 'Depth over Distance'. It starts at about 2:30 and ends around 9:30. (Also picture me shedding tears to how amazing this is.)

If you're curious as to what Ben Howard's been up to lately, check out the track from A Blaze of Feather below. He's teamed up with his touring band to create this album. They were announced to be playing a few of the bigger UK festivals this year before they'd even released any tracks. 

Laughable Life Updates

Let's all laugh at how many times I've said, I'll post on here more. It's a lot, and clearly I'm full of empty promises and delusions of grandeur. Seriously, I have no real excuse as to why I can't seem to get my act together. I've written many to-do lists, all of which have the words "Write a post" listed, and I've managed to completely ignore that friendly reminder. 

Sure, I have ideas of things I want to write. I have titles and summaries for at least 10 posts, but I feel like none of them really want to be written (or I cannot find the right words for them). 

But for the 3009th time, let's try* this whole thing again. 

Here's a little life update for you: 

  • I've been sick for like two weeks. The amount of tissues I've used is both gross and impressive. But I'm so ready to be healthy again. 
  • Trying to step all my social channels up. I've been taking HootSuite's Social Media Strategy courses lately, and have found a lot of their information really helpful. That being said, if you aren't already following me on Instagram, Twitter, and Pinterest... Do it now. (#desperate) 
  • I'm looking at taking more Marketing/Advertising courses online. Please let me know if you have any recommendations. I've found a program that seems super rad, but holy hell I cannot afford their prices. 
  • I'm obsessed with lentil pasta. No shame. It definitely has a different flavor and texture compare to regular pasta, but I really like the added flavor -- especially any of the red lentil ones. Throw all the veggies on top of it and it's perfect. 
  • Cannot. Stop. Watching. Criminal. Minds. Why is it so addicting? 

That's it. That's all I've got. Just trying to figure out how to be a real ass adult who gets their shit done on time. 


*Don't trust me on this one. 

Something Sweet Series

Sometimes you just need a little something sweet to make a Monday morning less sour.

So I'm not sure when Shihan performed this Saul Williams piece on Def Poetry. But I distinctly remember watching it in high school and being so impressed with the delivery and the message. It's just so sweet. I took an Intro to Acting class in college (Waddup GEs?), and our final was to do a 5-minute soliloquy. Guess what I picked. 

P.S. My delivery was nowhere near as good as this, there is a definitive reason why I try to avoid public speaking. 




CoffeeKyra KloppComment
Something Sweet Series

Sometimes you just need a little something sweet to make a Monday morning less sour.

I've been obsessing over Thirdstory since December of 2014. They basically just ooze out talent, and I can't stop swooning over their harmonies. I saw them in September while visiting Chicago and managed to slip my way to the front. I can neither confirm, nor deny, the presence of a single tear. But put them on your radar. I have a feeling their going to release a full length album in the next 6 months or so. Here's a Ted performance of their first EP. 

Something Sweet Series

Sometimes you just need a little something sweet to make a Monday morning less sour. 

Last week I stumbled upon the website for Creative Mornings. It's an organization  
that brings the creative community together in a series of breakfast events in 150+ cities. Luckily, they record and post their talks. After watching a ton of videos, I sat down and really listened to this talk from Holley Murchison titled '8 Lessons in Love'. Take the 33 minutes and appreciate Holley explaining how to choose love. 

"If we are going to change the world, we have to be open to the perspectives of what other people are going through -- whether you've experienced it firsthand or not." - Holley Murchison 

Life Lessons on Loss and Light

Oh man, it's been quite a while since I've actually posted content on here. In all fairness, I've been doing a lot of life lately. While I've been doing some great living, things like moving into my new apartment, jumping down to L.A. for a quick weekend with some friends and to see the ultimate queen Adele, a few trips into San Francisco to catch up with some of my London ladies. I also had to experience a hard moment in life. As a warning to you, this may get a little sad. 

When I was growing up, no one really warned me how truly difficult this whole life thing can be. They don't tell you that there are pieces of adulthood sometimes feel insurmountable. Whether that's figuring out the next step to take, realizing that friendship doesn't always last, or that despite how much you care about someone, their demons are not your responsibility to tame. But I think the hardest lesson I've learned is about death. I recognize that there are people who experience this early on in their life, and for that, I am so sorry. But this month gave me one of my first real experiences with death. 

I've felt deaths before. I cried many tears at my wonderful Grandmother's funeral. I've felt the loss of classmates and artists I've admired. This month the world lost one of the brightest lights I've ever known. I've been struggling for weeks to find the right words to honor how much she changed my life and influenced the person I am today. She was a coach, a mentor, a confidant, and the person I was most inspired by in high school. She was like the older sister I never had, but always imagined one to be. She pushed me to work harder, taught me about leadership, and granted me the opportunity to meet a phenomenal group of girls I still call friends. I've been so busy with work and traveling that I haven't had the time to really process this. I think I've been feeling a bit lost since I heard the news. Like it doesn't feel like it's actually happened. But I know it has. I also know that she was a woman who tried to fill as many moments as she could with love and delight. And that brings me, and I'm sure many others who loved her solace. She would want us to listen to our music, dance in our cars, adventure to far away places, and love ferociously.

And in her honor, I'm trying to move forward with her spirit in mind. I promise to always dance to the songs we loved and to find delight in the simple things. Even if I look like a loon in the middle of a crowded street.

There's a lot we need to catch up on friends. Stay tuned...

Fiction: "Curtains"

I spent my final year of university attending school at King's College London. It was the best decision I've ever made. I feel so lucky to have been able to immerse myself in the culture and academics of a English university. My absolute favorite class was a creative writing module with a (dreamy) Scottish professor. For our midterm, he challenged us to write a 500 word essay titled 'Curtains'. The only guideline he gave us was the title, everything else had to stem from our own imagination. The end result is a piece I'm very proud of. Here goes... 


After seventy-eight years of age Earl McMillan’s life has left canyons outlining his mouth and caverns where his fondest memories used to be. He carries lists in every jacket pocket containing his only son’s phone number, the name of the prescription he never seems to remember, and even his ATM code is scribbled on a scrap somewhere in his coat. He collects fragments of his days on the small bits of paper ⎯ phrases he hears others utter, observations from the subway, memories that suddenly re-emerge ⎯ but his favorite thing to do is go to the park at the corner of Fifth and Washington to watch the windows of the apartments across from the centre bench.

He has no recollection of his first discovery of the bench four years prior, but after long days of aimless wandering, those few hours spent there have become an evening ritual. Sometimes he just watches people pass him in the park, often counting the pairs of black shoes walking by. But as the sun fades behind the tall buildings, his attention turns to the spaces between the open curtains. It is there where his mind feels most at ease, allowing his imagination to concoct the lives of the people he sees through their window frames. Earl views each square as a story to be told.

The three windows that most draw Earl’s attention are located on the third floor; proximity playing a role ⎯ for his eyeglass prescription expired long ago. He likes to take notes on the routines of his three favorite residents, each offering a different plotline for his imagination to explore.

In the frame farthest to the right lives a young woman. Earl suspects she is about thirty years in age and lives very, very much alone. The woman, or “Abigail” as he’s labelled her, has lived in the far right window for the last year or so. He watches his “Abigail” come home weeknights in business attire looking as if she’s spent the day in a stressful environment. He sees her heavy sighs and hopes that she’s a lawyer fighting on behalf of those who need her skills most. Each night she carries a grocery bag home filled with fresh vegetables and Earl watches as she painstakingly prepares a meal for one. He’s only seen her with one other person, but that was months ago and the man in the fitted grey suit hasn’t been back since. He hopes she didn’t love him, for as he learned years’ prior losing someone so important leaves a feeling of emptiness that eats at the mind. Nevertheless, he feels something is missing from her life. Maybe it’s due to the stark white walls she refuses to decorate or perhaps it’s the way she often glances towards the street below; he likes to imagine it’s because she once dreamt of becoming a chef and instead was forced into a lifestyle she never desired. He feels like he understands the woman, as if her loneliness is his ally ⎯ a partner to his own isolation.

Through the curtains next to “Abigail’s” lives a family of five; a rambunctious bunch compared to the simplicity of the woman on the other side of their adjoining wall. The family consists of two teenage boys, a young daughter, and a pair of parents trying to keep their wits about them. He considers the older of the two boys a well-behaved young man, for he is always helping cook dinner and taking care of the young girl. In Earl’s mind the younger boy is undisciplined and disrespectful. The boy and his father get in arguments too many times to count. He imagines it’s because the boy is always coming home in the middle of dinner and sneaking out after the streetlights have turned on. Earl hopes the son’s disobedience is a result of a sense of responsibility for himself; that he is never home so that he can work and earn money towards college. But Earl also knows first hand the darkness the city has to offer; how it can consume a young life so quickly. Each night he sees the boy leave, praying he won’t have to watch the family learn about the harsh realities hidden in their home. He hopes with all his heart, if that day comes, they will close their curtains and ensure him peace.

In the final frame on the third floor lives a man whose arms are fully covered in tattoos, a trend Earl knows he’ll never understand. The colorful arms first drew Earl’s attention to this window, but when he saw those same arms lift up a small boy he knew that this scene would become his favorite. For the last four years, he’s watched the boy grow, discovering that it was only the two of them. He imagines that the father, despite his surly exterior, is a quiet man whose love for his son outweighs any anger he holds for the missing mother. Often, Earl wishes he could hear their conversations, the laughter escaping the young boy’s lips; even the occasional temper-tantrums haunt his ears. Earl envies the father’s dedication to his son, watching the two of them play until the child’s bedtime approaches. As the man carries his tired boy to bed, Earl knows it’s his cue to return home. He takes one last look at the scenes in front of him before wishing them goodnight.

Each evening he returns to the empty apartment he’s occupied for the last four years. The bare walls are an unwelcome sight after the warmth of the windows. He goes about his nightly routine always taking a moment to look at the old scrap of paper holding a long disconnected phone number and he makes sure to never close his curtains in hopes that someone, anyone, would be curious enough to care about him.

New Year, New Adventures

So 2016 has arrived, and with it comes with resolutions. I’ve never been the greatest at following through on the classic set of goals: 

Lose weight. 

Eat healthy. 

Stop spending money. 

Seriously, I commend the people who accomplish all they’ve set out for. But most days I am a pragmatic sort of lady, and despite my lame attempts, I recognize that these are not things I do well with. In the spirit of the “New Year, New Me” nonsense, I’ve decided that I will set one goal this year. 

Travel once a month. 

That’s it. A very simplistic goal, but it’s truly something I feel I can accomplish. I don’t think traveling has to be a giant, minutely planned vacation. It could be a 2 hour drive up the coast, or a quick trip into San Francisco. But I feel like I get so wrapped up in the everyday routine that I start losing sight of how much there is to see. 


So 2016 will be my year of Tiny Travels. First up is Los Angeles.  

CoffeeKyra KloppComment
Hey. Hi. Hello.

Hey there, 

So listen — I think this is going to be a blog. But I’m not 100% sure it will be a good blog, or even a mediocre blog. And quite honestly I can’t promise you that I will post enough to even call it a blog. It could just end up becoming a space of mindless ramblings with photographic evidence that I exist. 

So now that your exceptions are probably really low (let’s hope!), I guess I should tell you a bit about myself. Isn’t that what all ‘bloggers’ do? 

I’m a former English major who hasn’t written anything worth reading in the two years since I graduated from UC Santa Barbara. But this is my attempt, however brief, at regaining some semblance of creativity. After a a year and half of selling my soul to corporate monsters, I’ve miraculously landed at an incredible company. While my day job is continually challenging and inspiring, I try to seek art and vibrancy outside of the office. In the last few months, I’ve taken to photographing my adventures and it’s been so rewarding thus far.

Quite honestly, I had the hardest time with moving home. Having spent three years in the sun and a year falling in love with London, I was cynical and disdainful towards the place I grew up in. But through photography, and the dire need to find joy in Sacramento, I began to explore way more. And it’s led me to some wonderful people. 

So I guess what I’m trying to say is that this is my love letter.

A letter to city I'm beginning to see in a new light.

A letter to new adventures in familiar places.

A letter to unfamiliar faces. 

A letter to growing up.

And it may not always be shiny. Because so often life loses it's luster. But I'm going to try my best to use this space as a creative place to grow. 

And I apologize in advance, for I don't have any outstanding talents.

I’m not aggressively fashionable. I can cook, but only if you’re okay with eating the same 5 meals. I can’t play an instrument, and I certainly haven’t the athleticism to be a fitspiration. 

So then what can I do? That is exactly what I am here to explore.