SPOTLIGHT ON AMI
Ellowrites is pleased to present Ami. Check out the bio and selected works below, then follow Ami here @amipuff8 and engage!
Hi, my name is Ami. I am a fashion designer and graphic designer based in Brooklyn, New York. I enjoy reframing experience to try and capture humanity and humor. I tend to "lean in" to feelings. I like to write because it's honest.
Jamie is catching on to the fact that the bubblegum pop meets fuck me-in-the-back-seat tune blasting through the headphones is causing her to strut, sort of sexy like, with her heeled boots landing directly in front of her, providing a vertical balance line to casually roll her hips and shoulders around. She struts, foot by foot, beat by beat, strong independent woman lyric at a time down the colorless subway platform, happy to have this lame moment to herself, privately, with no one living in her head to judge. Something about the way she was rolling her chest made her think of a girl who she didn't know personally but used to live on the same dorm room floor in college, who just got a boob job, paid for by her Instagram famous boyfriend (she now is also Instagram famous). Perhaps she should get a boob job.
Ana exhales a solid “fuck it.” A pulse of relief travels through her body, releasing the web of anxiety knots tethering her to the past and future. She is released into the present.
“Fuckkkkkkkk iiiiiiiit,” she affirms, bathing in this calm sense of self.
A small fear creeps in that she will not be present forever.
She sees her ego, sitting in a dark corner of her psyche, diminutive in comparison to the large desk and chair it sits in, crunching numbers desperately to predict its bottom line. Ana’s natural reaction is to curse her ego, but that would be like cursing out the hardest working, dumbest, most frantic (and borderline mentally ill) employee in the building. Compassion and love is the only natural course of sentiment.