nostalgia

Waterhouse’s sold-out show at August Hall marked the second leg of her first ever headline tour, following her time as the opening act for Father John Misty last year.

These serendipitous moments bring me home, reminding me of memories attached to these people whose smells seem to appear out of thin air.

With the release of her new EP Milk Teeth on Nov. 4, the multi-hyphenate looks back to the past: She returns to the songs that started it all, compiling them into a single record.

Most people consider Halloween a day to party and eat junk food, but it brings up nostalgic feelings of what it was like to be a child. Although I’ve adopted new Halloween traditions, I’ve had to say goodbye to old ones. I’ve come to realize that Halloween is a reminder that the process of growing up involves going through changes. 

I’m undeniably homesick, feeling stuck at this crossroads of “in-between.” Yet there is something so wonderful, so bittersweet about being homesick. It allows me to come to terms with the fact that I’m in the process of finding a new home, yet “home” forever remains part of me.

Somehow I've wrestled free from the 21st century and stepped into another world. What hits me at once is that this choreographed reunion with the past is aesthetically driven; I find myself in a kind of time warp marked by colonial gazebos, iPhones, Charleston dance-offs and a picnic of props where I never lose the sense that I’m in a decade-limbo, never really fully in one time or another.

Effortlessly balancing the old and the new, the singer’s set spanned her entire discography of bedroom-pop anthems and heartaches.

Now that the last chapter of your high school experience is seemingly said and done, why not let the dorm room decorating commence?

Berkeley came to me as a surprise and as amazing as everything has been, the most rewarding revelation of all was the people that I got to meet here.

It is as if the moment we cross the threshold of our twenties, there are no more instructions we’re set to follow.