On Writing

A collection of entries I've tried posting for months

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When asked how she writes, Eve Babitz answered, "on a typewriter in the morning when there's nothing else to do." 

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I'd like to write a novel but I'd have to get over myself first and I'll make you the mother and I'll be a doll in the corner and I'd write something gladly but any evidence of me would have to be removed completely and I fill up a notebook with nonsense because I want to write so bad but nothing comes out my well is dry so I try repeating myself -- The school girls on a summer day, the school girls on a summer day -- Maybe some of the words will be useful.

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Speaking in Tongues: A Letter to 3rd World Women Writers by Gloria Anzaldua

"I write because life does not appease my appetites and hunger. I write to record what others erase when I speak... To convince myself that I am worthy and that what I have to say is not a pile of shit... Finally, I write because I'm scared of writing but I'm more scared of not writing."

I'd like to write a novel, whatever, I'd like to write one just for the sake of doing it. I think I'd be way too embarrassed to publish it. It's a little embarrassing, I think. Every time I think about what I would write, I imagine the people close to me reading it and I just retract back inside of myself as I imagine them wondering why I would ever come up with this stuff. 

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I love the physical act of writing, and how the graphite from my pencil on the paper feels. I know that once I start writing, I won't stop until I have so many ideas crowding my brain and I just can't get them out in time and I forget it all. The truth is, writing takes a lot of effort and when I can't write something as good as Joan Didion or Sinead O'Connor then there's just no use.

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I've thought about and tried writing this new post for months, even just writing in general. I seem to have so much going on and at the same time, nothing at all. I've also put this pressure on myself to write something that's "good" or "about something" which only leads me to write nothing. Writing is art to me and I'm not willing to make art unless I'm sat down and focused with a clear idea. I used to carry a notebook everywhere with me and just wrote whatever until something came out of it.

The truth is I used to take all my hobbies a lot more seriously. I would play guitar for hours and write entire stories and fill my sketchbooks with drawings because I wanted to be good. But I guess now I've come to a place where I'm satisfied with my skill so I only have to create in order to put it out there, and I notoriously hate putting myself out there.

And I don't think I have writers block or artists block or anything. I think I've just gotten comfortable and lazy or maybe even scared. I thought that coming to college and living on my own (well, with a roommate) would lead to me being more creative, but instead I just sit around and consume what other people make with little to no desire to make anything of my own. I'm just so uninspired.

When I was in high school everything was still new to me, the music I liked, the clothes I wore, the hobbies I had; I was still exploring who I was and I guess that was my motivation to go and just do everything. I wish I could somehow reset and rediscover myself all over again. And I know I'm still young, I don't know myself as a mother or a partner or a teacher- but those are all still so far off.

Is there any way to justify this stillness? I am at peace with myself. I am on the right track for my career and every day I feel better about my decision to go down this path. I've just been waiting for something "big" to happen without really caring about what happens until it does.

There is a lot to explain how I feel. That's why I never felt I was a good song writer, I always need to use many words to express myself.

My hair is short and I'm pulling it off, that's something.

And I miss my cat.

How Will You Be Remembered?

 

I took an art class my second semester of Hunter which was basically the equivalent of an art foundation course. I wasn't originally too excited about this, but it was a necessary evil needed in order to take the more advanced art courses. Anyways, we did end up doing some projects I thought were really interesting, and out of it came probably the only piece I've ever made that had some tangible meaning and explanation to it. Unfortunately, this is the one piece that I was never able to talk about because we ran out of time during critiques, and nobody else ever asked me about it. I was pretty bummed out at the time because of all the thought and detail I had put into it. I made this back in April and kind of forgot about it until I was going through art pieces for my major transfer application. 

The piece is 18x24 inches, and it's a collage using photographs, magazines, prints, and a drawing. For this project, my professor wanted us to pose a question that we would answer through the piece. My question was, how will you be remembered?

I knew I wanted to include pieces of myself in this collage, pictures of my friends and pictures relating to my interests. To even further "add myself" to the piece, I went back to try and find old art I had made. There are a lot of pieces so I will try to break everything down without rambling too much.

Creative Interests

As I stated, the main driving point behind the final piece was my desire to add parts of myself. When thinking about how I will be remembered, I thought about what I'd most like to leave behind: my art. The most obvious part to this is the fact that this collage is an art piece that I made. The guitar is a drawing I did last year, added to represent my love of music, further emphasized by the picture of Angelina and Kurt Cobain. Talia is at the top holding a camera to represent an interest in filmmaking, and she's placed in front of bookshelves at the Strand to represent a love for writing, and the fact that books and words will last far longer than we ever will.

Legacy

Going back down over to the picture of Kurt Cobain, right next to him you can see a group of skeletons laying in dirt. Everyone knows Kurt Cobain as that guy from Nirvana, maybe you think of him as the one who changed rock as we know it, but still many other people can't think about him without also thinking about the fact that he killed himself. Despite all the work he did, this one moment in his life will forever be remembered with him and his legacy. Someone else with a similar story line, I featured one of Van Gogh's portraits in the upper left corner as well. Another artist who passed before his time, never knowing the impact he would have on the world.

Self-Identity

Moving above and towards the middle, there are 4 faces placed next to each other. These are from a self-portrait rubber stamp I made last summer, which I printed onto Bristol paper with acrylic paint. I added color to 3 of them to represent how everyone has versions of themselves, and we will all be remembered differently based on different people's perspectives. The one without color would be our "true" selves, with nothing added to appeal to or fit in with other people.

Relationships

Kind of relating back to the perception of others, our relationships have a big effect on who we are. I think everyone takes pieces of themselves from the ones they admire the most, the way they talk and the vocabulary they use, their humor, the music they listen to, the shows and movies they watch, the clothes they wear, the foods they eat. One of the most important relationships in someone's life is their mother, which I included over on the left side. Your relationships with the people around you can also be a big part of how you're remembered, you affect people just as much as they affect you. The phrase "it takes a community" sort of speaks to that, how communities are made up of tons of different people who coexist while at the same time having their own entirely separate lives and goals.

Culture

Race & culture also play a big part in a person, and influences the languages they speak, the food they eat, what you believe, or even something small like what cleaning supplies you use. I included this aspect with prints of Japanese art as well as photos that include Japanese writing.

Time 

This was a detail I didn't think of myself while creating this piece, but during the critique one of my classmates brought it up. Theres an image at the very top right in the middle that has a timestamp which my classmate thought had something to do with time passing, which I hadn't thought about at all when I included the image, but it ended up working in my favor. Time goes by and you grow and change and your experiences shape who you are.

Not going to lie, it took me about a month to finish writing this, there's so much detail I was getting overwhelmed with trying to coherently tie it all together without repeating myself or leaving anything out. Haven't even gone back to reread what I already had because I don't feel like it.

Anyways. Hopefully I got my message across.

New Paltz Doesn't Recycle

I thought living on my own was going to be hard. I'd miss my family too much, and suddenly receiving all the responsibilities we shared, now to be carried out on my own, seemed like it would get very overwhelming. Feeding myself, being responsible for food inventory, cleaning up after myself (dishes, living room, bathroom, laundry soon), and making sure I'm on top of bills and tuition. But starting my third week it hasn't hit me too bad at all. I'm sure there will be tiring days where I'll fall behind and start to feel it all get to me, but I'm probably getting ahead of myself. It's nice only having myself to think of for a change, no rationing sodas and ice cream bars because someone else in the family might want. What's mine is mine, and though that also includes any mess I leave behind, it feels almost rewarding staying on top of everything without anyone reminding you to do so.

The title of this blog post comes from the fact that when asked about our apartment's deal with recycling, my roommate said she hasn't heard of such thing. Come to find out our complex actually does recycle, but the name is too unique to just throw out.

Quit honestly, the biggest challenge I've had to face is trying to be more outgoing and extroverted than I really am. But that's something I expected and it's one of the main reasons why I came out here in the first place. It was a bit surprising to me how friendly people here are. I've had many pleasant conversations with strangers as a person who's never had so many conversations with complete strangers. I was able to make some friends pretty quickly, yet I found myself trying to find people who looked like everybody I've known. Of course I couldn't find anyone, because all my friends and family at home are unique and incredible beings who would never be replicated or just replaced. And the same goes to all the people I've met here, everyone has been so incredible (so far), and I hope I make some lifelong connections. I have a good feeling about this place. 

Trying to get more involved, I decided to join the radio. My very first show is tomorrow, and my friend Ariana will be joining me for moral support. Feeling pretty nervous but mostly excited. Trying to keep expectations low, or just have no expectations at all so no matter what happens my feelings won't be too overexaggerated. It'll just be a music show with breaks because I am legally obligated to talk between songs (like actually). I'll put the link in the highlight's widget to the right for quick and easy access. The only thing I'm worried about is the speaking part, I have a sort of script created but I'll probably slip and stutter a bit. Even in social situations, I create guidelines for what I'd like to say to a person and once I've worked up the courage to speak, I fumble my lines and feel extraordinarily embarrassed. Whenever people ask me why I'm so quiet (which is very annoying by the way) I always shrug my shoulders even though I know the reason why. I'm too scared of messing up my lines and sounding like an idiot or making a stupid noise and having to sit with the awkwardness afterwards. I can tell when people think I'm not talking enough for their liking, but it's never really been enough to motivate me. I've tried to adopt a different, more head on mindset over here to try and overcome my quietness. My "chronic shyness" is what I like to call it. I will never understand society's contempt with people who are shy.

To further my on-campus involvement, I got a job working at the metal studio. My job is to sit in the supply room and check out tools students want to use. It's paid, which is always a plus, but I'm hoping that maybe I'll meet some cool people who make some cool stuff so I can swindle one of them into making me jewelry or something awesome like that. I think that would be nice.

Today is the 4th Saturday since I've been here, which is technically a month, but it never really feels like it. New Paltz is a beautiful town, but it still doesn't feel like I live here now. It just feels like I've been placed here, I'm just staying here for a while, and it doesn't feel like home. Because it really isn't, and I don't know if it ever will be. I don't really plan on permanently living somewhere outside the city. This is kind of just a small detour in my journey to find myself or something.

I think everything's just moving too slowly for me. I expected to do a million things by now and visit a million places and talked to a million people but I'm still right at the very beginning, but I don't want to be. Luckily, I am a very patient person, and I have the will to wait for everything. Not sure what other reflections I have for now, hopefully you guys hear from me again before the month is over.

Also: Happy birthday Talia!!!

On Saying Goodbye

My room as it stands in this moment

It's not the end of the world. But very rarely are you watching yourself abruptly entering a whole new part of your life. Not only saying goodbye (for now) to friends, but to routine and an entire way of living. And don't even get me started on the fact that I've never ever lived on my own before. Last year I would ditch class in favor of the Met. I would walk down Lexington Ave to buy a bagel and coffee, then make my way over to Central Park where I frequently walked past Joan Didion's bench so I could sit down and eat. I watched squirrels and I watched people, and I thought about my life for a bit until it was time to go home to eat the dinner my parents made me and do it all again the next day. Trying to get into a new routine will be uncomfortable. I already had to try it last year during my first year of college, the only difference was I had friends and family immediately there to keep some sort of familiarity. Can't say I don't have any friends here at all, but it definitely won't be the same. It's going to be very uncomfortable for me, but that's the reason why I decided to do any of this in the first place.

Sometimes I feel like I'm two steps behind everyone. Moving out isn't a rare thing. Going away to college isn't either, and I feel almost redundant writing about this as if it isn't something possible readers haven't already gone through. But of course I had to crash out and have my epiphany a year late, of course I discovered good music almost 2 years too late, and of course I didn't even really figure out my hair and clothes until eons after everybody else had a grasp on their own style. There are so many other aspects of my life in which I seem to be falling behind on but that's not something I want to get into right now.

I was able to say goodbye to friends before I left, all with the promise of seeing them soon. I did miss a few but I'm sure we'll make time for each other eventually. My door is always open. I told myself I wasn't going to cry, and I wasn't going to ever look back, but those things are easier said than done. Saying goodbye to my parents was even harder. Just as I've never been away from them for so long, they haven't been away from me. It would've been so easy to just change my mind and stay behind with what's comfortable, but as Madison Fraser wisely said:

"You can only grow so much standing in one place"

I really do think this will be good for me, or at least necessary in my evolution as a person. For my first night I have planted some seeds. I know nothing about gardening and already I'm thinking I made a mistake by planting snapdragon seeds to be kept in my room, but let's just see how it goes. Maybe by some sort of magical connection they will become a symbol of my own growth as a person or whatever. Maybe they'll die before I even make it to October. 

It felt wrong being home and doing nothing on my last day. The only reason I decided not to make any plans was because I figured I should spend some time with my family. But all my family went out or had to work so I was waiting for them at home until we went out and had some pizza. The waiting was a little harsh, the boredom really. It just left me with more time to think and to freak out and all that nasty stuff. I still had to pack but I didn't because I was just so tired of being scared (that ended up being a mistake, I'm sitting here now thinking of 10 things I wish I had), I ended up just laying around all day. 

But tomorrow I will wake up and make myself breakfast. I will walk down to Water Street and hand in my resume to a cafe and hope they at least consider me. Maybe after that I'll walk through campus, because as much as I want this "college life", I haven't really been at college at all. It won't be central park, and it won't be Joan Didion's bench, but I can sit down and watch squirrels, and watch people, and think about my life as a version of me who's already made it through this new phase. I don't know at all what I'm going to do, or how I'm going to feel. Usually, I have some sort of image or preset notion in my mind, but this time there's nothing. I'm really just going in blind and hoping for the best. Maybe this year will hit me like a fuckin truck. Or maybe everything will bloom along with my flower that I swear I will learn to take care of. All I did was put the seeds in and realized I had already messed up...

Something about growth or rebirth. Starting over. I need to make a playlist.

On Valley of the Dolls

Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann

1965

4/5 stars

I'm not really a big book reviewer, my Goodreads are usually filled with one worded reaction or a strain of emojis, but for the sake of this blog I will try my best. I've been really into 60s literature for a while now (although it's mostly because I bought a whole bunch of books at once and still haven't gotten through them all). My most recent read has been Valley of the Dolls by Jacqueline Susann, a book written in 1965 about 3 friends trying to make it in Hollywood. The book spans over a 20-year period, starting in 1945 and moving between New York City and California up until 1965. That seems to be a main focus in most of the books I've been reading, New York and California. Even if it's set just in California, they always find a way to bring up New York and vice versa. Anyways. Without giving away as much as possible, this book was pretty hard to get through. With 448 pages, it's a super long read and I no longer have as much subway time as I did during the school year to be able to speed through books. On top of that, I mean, these girls can never catch a break! Almost nothing good happens to them and if it does well it doesn't last. 

The book is about relationships and addiction and all the nasty things that come with trying to make it in the entertainment industry. Everyone seems to lose themselves, no matter how big of a role they play. Most of the characters are pretty likeable though, and at points it's easy to empathize with them. The plot was interesting enough, although there were times where it felt like it was just dragging. That's why I only gave it 4 stars instead of 5. This book is definitely not for everyone, but if the 60s is something you're interested in I would definitely give it a chance. Or at least see the movie, which I still haven't seen either but hopefully I do soon. A main factor in my decision to start this book is the fact that one of the main characters is played by Sharon Tate, and I had just finished Helter Skelter, Vincent Bugliosi's book on the Manson murders. That's another book I thought just dragged on for way too long. But if you're interested into all the legal details of murder cases and trials (Bugliosi was one of the prosecutors on the case), it's probably a good book for you.

Anyways back to the book. If you do decide to read this book, some things to look out for: The chapters could get to be really long, which can be discouraging if you just want a quick read without having to stop in the middle of a page. It's written in a way that's easy enough to understand, but again some parts kind of are just a drag. I feel like this also goes without saying, but it touches upon a lot of stressful topics (drugs, alcoholism, suicide, infidelity, and more!). But if you do manage to get through the book it'll definitely feel worth it. Not really sure what else to say. Maybe I'll watch the video and make a comparison post.

Until next time.

Rest in Peace Sharon

Before I Go

For a second today I saw how dark and empty my desk looked without me in it. The way my chair was turned out after I'd left in a hurry, now openly awaiting my return. I had jumped out of my body and was witnessing my absence.

I cross the street and mourn for my neighborhood; the ever-changing cast of people has made it feel unfamiliar. My family doesn't even live in the upstairs apartment anymore and a strange new couple will be moving in. I was worried about the awkwardness of running into them leaving as I'm coming home but remembered I wouldn't be coming home for a while. 

I hugged my mom and wondered as she held me, if she was thinking about how it felt to hold me as a child. 

I'll only be 2 hours away but I've never been gone this long.

On Our First Show

"No more screamo bands, please!" Joey joked as he was setting up the equipment for the show. "The first three were fine, but now there's like ten on the bill!"

I need to get an eyebrow piercing before I leave, I think to myself. This was my bands first show, possibly our last. Angelina is off to France and then Cape Cod for the summer, then on to London for school. I'm off to New Paltz in August, and Talia, the very first person I've ever felt was a real best friend, was staying behind in the city.

"One rule you guys," Joey started to speak again. "Never let this microphone point at this speaker."

At the very final point in the night I would accidentally break that one rule. 

I wasn't nervous, not yet anyway. Recently my life has been burning so quick out of me it's hard for the nerves to catch up. I was mostly worried that no one would like us, not that we made bad music or anything, just that I wasn't sure if it would be their type of music. Our friends seemed excited, which i guess was the only thing that really mattered.