In my opinion, the only way to really move forward is to move THROUGH. I'm pretty sure there was a quote to that effect I saw on the wall in some middle-school classroom-- I vaguely remember referencing it here in fact... but sure enough-- it has stood the test of (some) time and some experience-- and in a variety of different arenas of my life.
You might not have pegged me or this blog as a likely participant in the conversation on the financial crisis and economics-- but since I am a firm believer in understanding a thing BY discussing it... and I want to explore any element of my or others' lives that may be of interest to me, and hopefully others'-- I think the topic itself is ripe for the blog-block.
Mostly though.. I want to say--
READ this article by Michael Lewis from Portfolio called
"The End".
I was turned on to it by David Brook's editorial "The Sidney Awards" in yesterday's NYTime-- an editorial which in and of itself-- on the constant and increasingly shorter-forminification of all things-- is FABULOUS and I also strongly recommend.
Lewis' editorial is great and one of the most concise forays into the current economic crisis I have read. It is also makes a fascinating point on the almost inevitability of America's current financial situation and the correlation between the questionable but status-quo morality practiced in the name of 'Capitalism' in America, as well as our obsession with re-invention, change, all things "new," and youth. I first remember being concerned during one of George W. Bush's State of the Union speeches fairly early on-- he talked about how there were more people buying houses than ever. That struck me as strange-- who were these people, and how on Earth could they afford it? Everyone I knew had less money than ever before and couldn't even afford their rent-- and these were all college-educated working professionals! Also, the proliferation of the freeway exit ramp posters encouraging everyone and their sister to "Buy a House! No money down!!" seemed oddly makeshift and casual for so serious an undertaking as buying a house has always seemed to be to me...
Friday, January 2, 2009
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
last day of the year
here is my blank page filled up, in order:
what a year it has been [impossible to add to]
the thing about this forum is [and that's all she wrote]
[and then, down to brass tacks here...]
reasons it is really hard to write a blog:
1. people make fun of you if they find out, sometimes in plays, even if they also have blogs
2. there is a crazy thing that happens where you simultaneously really want and totally don’t care or even desire at all for people, i.e. your friends to read it, see number 3
3. the ‘putting it out there’ makes you feel alternately at peace/release-y, and, vulnerable.
4. sometimes being earnest and being funny don't happen at the same time and it seems cooler to be funny
5. time-- where does it go?
6. the catch-22 of hanging out with 'medium-' to 'high-profile' people... (not my idea for how to think about humans, but is there a better way to say it?) if you are doing cool things with them you sound like a star-fucker if you talk about it, so then you go out of your way not to talk about it, which just makes you seem weirdly uppity and obnoxious for being secretive or reticent, or too much time passes and you don’t write anything so then the task begins to feel gargantuan
7. the delicate balance between being frank and protecting your privacy, as well as the people in your life
8. no one is paying you to do this and you to focus on doing activities that garner you a wage
9. a lot of really crazy shit is going on and it is almost impossible to process, much less ‘blog’ about in any sort of articulate way
10. you sometimes feel like an asshole when you say “I have a blog” (see number 11)
11. you fear the addition of “blog” as a verb into the English language, e.g. I blog, He blogs, We blog, you all blog, they blog… etc.
12. it is not the same as a conversation even if you want it to be sometimes
13. it is a little more like a conversation than you want it to be sometimes
14. you get a lot of flak for being honest and inquisitive about actual ideas that mean something to you—and this is discouraging for many reasons’
15. haters
16. lovers
17. family
18. sometimes it is hard to know who your audience is, if any
19. sometimes it is hard to find your voice—sometimes this can be a function of the one before
20. no matter what putting something out there is an aggressive act, especially when you aren’t all about being coy, careful, or clever as to how said output should me interpreted
21. as luck would have it that’s all I got. If that’s not a lot though how about this?
Reasons it is great to do this thingy here:
1. sometimes it feels great
2. it’s okay to make people laugh, especially when you are laughing too (it’s okay, blogs ARE really funny and strange—I agree!!!)
3. it is easier then reading Balzac (and I know this for a fact)
4. it feels like a very pure way to stay in touch—‘if someone has the time and interest, here I am, take it or leave it’…
5. the whole ‘transparency’ goal
6. it doesn’t COST money
7. it might make someone, like maybe you… smile/think/fart/sniffle
8. time goes so fast and it is a way to encourage being present with life, it is very active documentation
9. you get to say, “I have a blog!”
10. you get to relive the excitement you feel for the great stuff you are describing, and maybe, others get to feel the good stuff too—because you turn them onto to some book, show, etc. and then it is not just all about you
11. sometimes people write comments
12. sometimes these comments are very thoughtful and generous and sweet
13. it feels good to get stuff off your chest even if you are not saying all the stuff you would say to your BFF or your pillow
14. some days it feels like the only real contribution you make of your self to the world at all— but in a good way
15. being made fun of teaches you humilitiy, and not to take yourself too seriously—very important I think
16. by writing about what you think about a thing you come to know yourself better, who you are, what you care about, how you feel about such-and-such… BIG stuff
17. it doesn’t take up physical space and once you say things sometimes that frees up mental and/or emotional space
18. posting photos and videos is really fun and shockingly easy, and makes me feel surprisingly tech-savvy
19. there is such a thing as a blog being a springboard to something else—like a book, or a play, or love affair, it hasn’t happened to me, but I can imagine it happening.
20. The thing itself—it can be very simple—and I am after this in my life.
21. I said I would.
And there it is. The case is made.
I will continue to try.
PS thanks for the nudge nudge Andrew & Erica. off we go!
what a year it has been [impossible to add to]
the thing about this forum is [and that's all she wrote]
[and then, down to brass tacks here...]
reasons it is really hard to write a blog:
1. people make fun of you if they find out, sometimes in plays, even if they also have blogs
2. there is a crazy thing that happens where you simultaneously really want and totally don’t care or even desire at all for people, i.e. your friends to read it, see number 3
3. the ‘putting it out there’ makes you feel alternately at peace/release-y, and, vulnerable.
4. sometimes being earnest and being funny don't happen at the same time and it seems cooler to be funny
5. time-- where does it go?
6. the catch-22 of hanging out with 'medium-' to 'high-profile' people... (not my idea for how to think about humans, but is there a better way to say it?) if you are doing cool things with them you sound like a star-fucker if you talk about it, so then you go out of your way not to talk about it, which just makes you seem weirdly uppity and obnoxious for being secretive or reticent, or too much time passes and you don’t write anything so then the task begins to feel gargantuan
7. the delicate balance between being frank and protecting your privacy, as well as the people in your life
8. no one is paying you to do this and you to focus on doing activities that garner you a wage
9. a lot of really crazy shit is going on and it is almost impossible to process, much less ‘blog’ about in any sort of articulate way
10. you sometimes feel like an asshole when you say “I have a blog” (see number 11)
11. you fear the addition of “blog” as a verb into the English language, e.g. I blog, He blogs, We blog, you all blog, they blog… etc.
12. it is not the same as a conversation even if you want it to be sometimes
13. it is a little more like a conversation than you want it to be sometimes
14. you get a lot of flak for being honest and inquisitive about actual ideas that mean something to you—and this is discouraging for many reasons’
15. haters
16. lovers
17. family
18. sometimes it is hard to know who your audience is, if any
19. sometimes it is hard to find your voice—sometimes this can be a function of the one before
20. no matter what putting something out there is an aggressive act, especially when you aren’t all about being coy, careful, or clever as to how said output should me interpreted
21. as luck would have it that’s all I got. If that’s not a lot though how about this?
Reasons it is great to do this thingy here:
1. sometimes it feels great
2. it’s okay to make people laugh, especially when you are laughing too (it’s okay, blogs ARE really funny and strange—I agree!!!)
3. it is easier then reading Balzac (and I know this for a fact)
4. it feels like a very pure way to stay in touch—‘if someone has the time and interest, here I am, take it or leave it’…
5. the whole ‘transparency’ goal
6. it doesn’t COST money
7. it might make someone, like maybe you… smile/think/fart/sniffle
8. time goes so fast and it is a way to encourage being present with life, it is very active documentation
9. you get to say, “I have a blog!”
10. you get to relive the excitement you feel for the great stuff you are describing, and maybe, others get to feel the good stuff too—because you turn them onto to some book, show, etc. and then it is not just all about you
11. sometimes people write comments
12. sometimes these comments are very thoughtful and generous and sweet
13. it feels good to get stuff off your chest even if you are not saying all the stuff you would say to your BFF or your pillow
14. some days it feels like the only real contribution you make of your self to the world at all— but in a good way
15. being made fun of teaches you humilitiy, and not to take yourself too seriously—very important I think
16. by writing about what you think about a thing you come to know yourself better, who you are, what you care about, how you feel about such-and-such… BIG stuff
17. it doesn’t take up physical space and once you say things sometimes that frees up mental and/or emotional space
18. posting photos and videos is really fun and shockingly easy, and makes me feel surprisingly tech-savvy
19. there is such a thing as a blog being a springboard to something else—like a book, or a play, or love affair, it hasn’t happened to me, but I can imagine it happening.
20. The thing itself—it can be very simple—and I am after this in my life.
21. I said I would.
And there it is. The case is made.
I will continue to try.
PS thanks for the nudge nudge Andrew & Erica. off we go!
Saturday, November 8, 2008
overwhelming
I remember reading this Wordsworth poem junior or senior year of high school, with Eben sitting behind me... and feeling its potency then.
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
(1807)
Today, this week, month, year, several years?? there are moments when I feel a bit overwhelmed. By the amount of books I want to read. By the number of movies I feel it is imperative to the continuing development of my soul that I see. By the quantity of news that I feel it is my responsibility as a privileged member of a media-laden society to process... By the phone calls I would like to make to stay in touch. By the disconnect between the number of ideas I have and the number of them I have brought to fruition. By my love for people. By my anger at people. By my compassion for people who are suffering, those I know and those I don't know. The list goes on and on.
Last night I went to a fun reunion-of-sorts party which had the unusual distinction of including speeches. Maybe because the party was celebrating my friend Sam's brief return to NYC from Obama-land... and he has been so close to such a great orator for a bit, and maybe because of how monumental this week was, and because many of us at the party went to a high school where declamation was not just revered but PRACTICED... we were all game. A college friend got us warmed up with a more conventional toast, and then Sam took the step ladder and went on for a bit. He told stories from the trail, stories we will probably learn in the coming weeks (about for example, Barack's first night in NYC as a transfer student at Columbia, when he slept under the stars in an alley on 109th Street), and he talked about how much the people that are his support team have meant to him these past two years especially. He grew up in a neighborhood in Boston called Jamaica Plain and many of his childhood friends were there to raise their glasses last night. He talked about his girlfriend Sasha and how much of a rock she has been, and how having her there to listen to him gripe, or share in his glee, or just shoot the proverbial shit with has gotten him through more than anything. I was really happy for him. I am really happy for him. He is the kind of sensitive, thoughtful, complex-minded individual you might assume would favor a career in the arts or education over politics.
And you know the most amazing thing-- instead of going to Washington, where he could surely get a cushy job in the administration-- he is choosing to keep doing what he has been doing. Finding people who have never participated in politics ever before maybe, talking to them, getting them excited, and sharing their stories... He is choosing to stay with the movement, and effect change from the outside in-- rather than play the conformity game with the bureaucrats in Washington. And the really exciting thing to me-- the macro-level reality is-- when this Obama-thing started two, or four, or arguably more, years ago-- it must have seemed like a near-impossibility. The people involved must have felt pretty overwhelmed by the amount of change him being elected President would effect. The paradigm-shifts. The mind-opening...
Ahhh... but we did it. Here we are. It wasn't easy. Change is not easy (Sam kept saying that last night, I guess it is something Barack says pretty often...). As Sam put it, "It's fucking hard. But it's worth it. It's so exciting."
What would I prefer-- to NOT be overwhelmed??
Please.
Unlikely.
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
(1807)
Today, this week, month, year, several years?? there are moments when I feel a bit overwhelmed. By the amount of books I want to read. By the number of movies I feel it is imperative to the continuing development of my soul that I see. By the quantity of news that I feel it is my responsibility as a privileged member of a media-laden society to process... By the phone calls I would like to make to stay in touch. By the disconnect between the number of ideas I have and the number of them I have brought to fruition. By my love for people. By my anger at people. By my compassion for people who are suffering, those I know and those I don't know. The list goes on and on.
Last night I went to a fun reunion-of-sorts party which had the unusual distinction of including speeches. Maybe because the party was celebrating my friend Sam's brief return to NYC from Obama-land... and he has been so close to such a great orator for a bit, and maybe because of how monumental this week was, and because many of us at the party went to a high school where declamation was not just revered but PRACTICED... we were all game. A college friend got us warmed up with a more conventional toast, and then Sam took the step ladder and went on for a bit. He told stories from the trail, stories we will probably learn in the coming weeks (about for example, Barack's first night in NYC as a transfer student at Columbia, when he slept under the stars in an alley on 109th Street), and he talked about how much the people that are his support team have meant to him these past two years especially. He grew up in a neighborhood in Boston called Jamaica Plain and many of his childhood friends were there to raise their glasses last night. He talked about his girlfriend Sasha and how much of a rock she has been, and how having her there to listen to him gripe, or share in his glee, or just shoot the proverbial shit with has gotten him through more than anything. I was really happy for him. I am really happy for him. He is the kind of sensitive, thoughtful, complex-minded individual you might assume would favor a career in the arts or education over politics.
And you know the most amazing thing-- instead of going to Washington, where he could surely get a cushy job in the administration-- he is choosing to keep doing what he has been doing. Finding people who have never participated in politics ever before maybe, talking to them, getting them excited, and sharing their stories... He is choosing to stay with the movement, and effect change from the outside in-- rather than play the conformity game with the bureaucrats in Washington. And the really exciting thing to me-- the macro-level reality is-- when this Obama-thing started two, or four, or arguably more, years ago-- it must have seemed like a near-impossibility. The people involved must have felt pretty overwhelmed by the amount of change him being elected President would effect. The paradigm-shifts. The mind-opening...
Ahhh... but we did it. Here we are. It wasn't easy. Change is not easy (Sam kept saying that last night, I guess it is something Barack says pretty often...). As Sam put it, "It's fucking hard. But it's worth it. It's so exciting."
What would I prefer-- to NOT be overwhelmed??
Please.
Unlikely.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
please vote
My good friend Sam Graham-Felsen, who has been working for Obama for 2 years, has a link to this speech on his gchat tag. I personally love Henry IV, parts I and II and Henry V-- following young Prince Hal's youthful and privileged ignorance, adventures and debauchery, and ultimate pursuit of wisdom through exploration and education. Apparently our friend Chris Roma learned this speech for declamation in 11th grade at Boston Latin (our high school) and has not forgotten it. Sam said he used to recite it in their college dorm room. I think it's a good message for today.
Oh yes- and PLEASE GO VOTE!!!
Oh yes- and PLEASE GO VOTE!!!
Sunday, November 2, 2008
sentimental sunday
Experience is not what happens to you. It is what you do with what happens to you.
Aldous Huxley
This morning over 100,000 people from all over the world woke up and set out to run/wheel 26.2 miles.
I wasn't one of them.
But I love them for their passion and perseverance and desire to push their own physical (and in some cases, mental) limits.
It is a gorgeous crisp fall day and we are SAVING daylight today-- which is fun, right?
Or, alternately, getting an extra hour of sleep.
I went to CITYterm in Dobbs Ferry, NY early yesterday morning for a meeting of a council I am on and I really love everything about that place. The train ride along the Hudson, the steep hill up to the Masters School, the humble Tudor building where the program is housed-- dorms upstairs, classrooms downstairs... I lived there for about 4 months my junior year of high school but collectively they were probably the single most formative four months of my life. It is a semester program with an emphasis on not just 'learning things' per se, but learning HOW to learn. How to be the author of your own learning, of your experiences. How to 'read' any interaction or experience as if it is a text rich with meaning and the opportunity for interpretation/analysis. I learned what it means to collaborate and how the reflection on the end product is as important as the production itself. I learned how to use the scientific-method-- and not just in the context of science. I practice what I learned at CITYterm in my daily life, in the interpersonal exchanges and in my work-- putting on a play is in fact very akin to a giant collaborative science project.
I saw a few old friends last night and other old friends earlier in the week, also some GREAT plays, Black Watch-- which was one of the best shows I have seen in my entire life, and Farragut North, written by my good friend Beau Willimon. I am so proud of Beau and excited and also even the themes of the plays have me thinking a lot about potential-- what 'potential' means-- what our individual roles on this planet, in this life, are... and how to deal with the expectations of ourselves and others for these lives we lead. A friend was describing her boyfriend's unique ability to resist specific career goals but instead opt for embracing the 'exploration.' A former math teach who is now working in finance-- I imagine the fluidity with which he appears to be accepting his path will serve him well in this economic depression... and his flexibility will most certainly make him an attractive asset to a company.
I have been pretty flexible in my life lately-- with my career, with my home locale, friendships/relationships, and I am finding it incredibly rewarding, if sometimes a bit confusing. My friend Alex asked me if I felt a bit rudderless lately-- and though I did at that moment, I don't see it that way anymore.
Just as a poem is singular in its ability to compress complex ideas & feelings into relatively sparse language thereby increasing the density of the space the words take up-- this time of so many unknowns is a time of great authorship for me, for my life, my work. I think it may serve me best to subvert my expectations for what I 'should' be doing-- and really embrace the exploring and the 'authoring' of my experience. I may not know precisely what it all means until the reflection stage-- but at least I will know I am fully engaged in the active experimentation and the concrete experience.
Aldous Huxley
This morning over 100,000 people from all over the world woke up and set out to run/wheel 26.2 miles.
I wasn't one of them.
But I love them for their passion and perseverance and desire to push their own physical (and in some cases, mental) limits.
It is a gorgeous crisp fall day and we are SAVING daylight today-- which is fun, right?
Or, alternately, getting an extra hour of sleep.
I went to CITYterm in Dobbs Ferry, NY early yesterday morning for a meeting of a council I am on and I really love everything about that place. The train ride along the Hudson, the steep hill up to the Masters School, the humble Tudor building where the program is housed-- dorms upstairs, classrooms downstairs... I lived there for about 4 months my junior year of high school but collectively they were probably the single most formative four months of my life. It is a semester program with an emphasis on not just 'learning things' per se, but learning HOW to learn. How to be the author of your own learning, of your experiences. How to 'read' any interaction or experience as if it is a text rich with meaning and the opportunity for interpretation/analysis. I learned what it means to collaborate and how the reflection on the end product is as important as the production itself. I learned how to use the scientific-method-- and not just in the context of science. I practice what I learned at CITYterm in my daily life, in the interpersonal exchanges and in my work-- putting on a play is in fact very akin to a giant collaborative science project.
I saw a few old friends last night and other old friends earlier in the week, also some GREAT plays, Black Watch-- which was one of the best shows I have seen in my entire life, and Farragut North, written by my good friend Beau Willimon. I am so proud of Beau and excited and also even the themes of the plays have me thinking a lot about potential-- what 'potential' means-- what our individual roles on this planet, in this life, are... and how to deal with the expectations of ourselves and others for these lives we lead. A friend was describing her boyfriend's unique ability to resist specific career goals but instead opt for embracing the 'exploration.' A former math teach who is now working in finance-- I imagine the fluidity with which he appears to be accepting his path will serve him well in this economic depression... and his flexibility will most certainly make him an attractive asset to a company.
I have been pretty flexible in my life lately-- with my career, with my home locale, friendships/relationships, and I am finding it incredibly rewarding, if sometimes a bit confusing. My friend Alex asked me if I felt a bit rudderless lately-- and though I did at that moment, I don't see it that way anymore.
Just as a poem is singular in its ability to compress complex ideas & feelings into relatively sparse language thereby increasing the density of the space the words take up-- this time of so many unknowns is a time of great authorship for me, for my life, my work. I think it may serve me best to subvert my expectations for what I 'should' be doing-- and really embrace the exploring and the 'authoring' of my experience. I may not know precisely what it all means until the reflection stage-- but at least I will know I am fully engaged in the active experimentation and the concrete experience.
Monday, October 20, 2008
how do you do your best thinking?
a Saturday Night Live sweatsuit!!
what a concept!
today:
I did my best thinking walking through the streets of the west village in new york city. These streets are so deeply satisfying as is the cup of coffee inside the cafe.
Yes the streets and residents and shops are well-kept and seem almost frozen in time (a better time?). Everything is VERY nice but without the ostentatious flair of Soho or either of the Uppers... or even Williamsburg, DUMBO, Park Slope... The West Village feels a little more heterogeneous (at least it is not overwhelmingly nouveau-riche, hipster, trust fund artists, or lesbians and babies. Maybe it has to do with the well-cultivated bohemian look the younger people here don, I believe the look to be more aligned with the souls of the older folks-- I believe maybe they did protest in Tompkins Square in '88 and hung out at CBGB's and maybe they have written great songs, made great films, paintings, stories, etc.)
Mostly though I think it is the scale that is so satisfying. The very HUMAN scale-- the relationship between the street width, the building heights, the sidewalks and the trees. Old trees. Cobblestoned streets. History happened here...
The perfect street by this criteria-- at least that I know of-- is called Theater Street. It is in St. Petersburg, Russia and it is home to the Vaganova Institute-- the training grounds for the world-class Kirov Ballet.
My mom called me this morning because she had heard the Vaughan Williams piece "Lark Ascending" on the radio and she had a strong emotional reaction to the memory of the choregraphy piece I made to the music in tenth grade. She called me to say how proud of me she is, and (in a vein similar to all mothers I am certain) how 'I am so special.' Of course, like most people in their 20s with career uncertainty, no significant other, etc. my thoughts went in the direction of-- "Oh no!! What happened?"
I distinctly remember being in 5th grade, right at the beginning of the school year, and thinking, "oh no, how will I ever do as much cool stuff as I did last year?" [At that point looking back on the year prior included such highlights as dancing The Firebird, winning the spelling bees (Spanish & English), being in the hospital with a rare life-threatening condition, knowing someone who knew someone in Dirty Dancing, winning a $75 savings bond in an art contest, starting to play the flute on a 'curved head joint', doing a REALLY good science project...] In hindsight of course, it all seems incredibly normal. Nothing really spectacular but yes, probably all combined pretty big stuff for a ten year-old.
It is funny because every fall I have pretty much that same fear. What will I do this year that is as exciting, impressive, inspired, as something I did last year?! And I always quiet those fears because they really aren't very helpful, and after so many years of them-- I've learned again and again that each year really is more exciting and full of surprises.
Also, I got sent a picture of one of my best friends at age 10 and its great and raw Harrington and amazing how much who he is now at 30 was already at work in his little 10 year-old version.
And I KNOW the same was true with me. And the same is true of my 6-month old nephew. He loves reading, music, and dancing, and laughing, and breasts. (Just kidding-- well, not really.)
I understand that part of getting older involves more reality interspersed with the creative flights of fancy... and yes, I have chosen to make a go of it in a career that embraces the imagination, which is why I really have to remember that even though it feels like a luxury to meander through these winding well-scaled streets... I have always gotten a lot of my best thinking done on my feet. And isn't that worth something-- knowing where and how you do your best thinking? What's your best thinking outfit? Tunes? Partners in crime? What's your best thinking city or country?
Lucky me, my best thinking starts right outside my front door-- even if it is a different street every other week. Maybe that's a giant part of it actually. I keep moving, different week-- different neighborhood... but each time I step outside my feet are taking me on a new adventure and my mind is at it again.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Plate tectonics & rogue waves
I have been thinking a lot about home and friends and family and how crazy it is that in the 21st century so often we are so far away from each other. Spread across states, countries, sometimes even continents. And yet, this physical distance doesn’t mean the end of the relationship. My grandmother and I were driving by a bevy of Western Unions about a month ago and she asked me what they were used for now… and I told her I thought they were mostly for people wiring their families money in other countries. There is a real concentration of Western Union-type places in my neighborhood in Boston—because there are a lot of immigrants from all sorts of places—the Dominican Republic, Vietnam, Barbados, Sierra Leone, Haiti… to name just a few. And these people, while they are surely very engaged in their day-to-day American life—are also, I would speculate, incredibly tied to their roots in their native country. This is sort of fascinating to me and especially meaningful when I need a bit of perspective. Or a reminder that is is okay and even great to feel ties to different places.
I am in a bit of a transient/gypsy/tumbleweed state. I supposedly live in LA, but I haven’t been there for almost 5 months. That is where my ‘work’ as I’ve known it for the last few years is, my best friends, the (stuffed) bunny that I sometimes sleep with, my roommates, my adopted LA family, my car, my books, my boots (until recently)… et cetera. I have been on the east coast, in new york, in Williamstown, Mass., in Wellfleet, Mass., and now in New York again. In New York I’ve stayed in three neighborhoods at least—Fort Greene, Flatbush, and Williamsburg. Soon, I will move to the Lower East side for a week or two. A year or two ago I kept saying—“I want to travel… I want to work… I want to tour! I want work to bring me to new and exciting places! Indeed—I have gotten what I wished for. And most days I love it. I am excited to go back but it won’t be for a while yet.
And while it is true that I haven’t had more than 36 hours off since I started working on May 16th… it is also hard to imagine jumping back into my LA life. It is only 6 hours on an airplane but it is a sort of cosmic mental shift as well. 3,000 miles and you have a change of climate, social life, job, ‘home’ and more. Sometimes it almost seems to me that the erasure-effect that the ease of airline travel has on places being ‘far away’ from each other makes for a loss of mental awareness to the massive shift that is going on with such a trip/move.
I do feel lucky to have family and friends spread out across so many interesting, unique places. These places have an effect on us, inevitably, and make for an incredible patchwork of experiences that make us who we are.
And I like feeling the closeness, and I like remembering the distance-- and then getting excited that at some point pretty soon I will get on an airplane and 6 hours later I will get off and LA and my life will meet up again... and also I will see the place differently, for the changes in me.
I am in a bit of a transient/gypsy/tumbleweed state. I supposedly live in LA, but I haven’t been there for almost 5 months. That is where my ‘work’ as I’ve known it for the last few years is, my best friends, the (stuffed) bunny that I sometimes sleep with, my roommates, my adopted LA family, my car, my books, my boots (until recently)… et cetera. I have been on the east coast, in new york, in Williamstown, Mass., in Wellfleet, Mass., and now in New York again. In New York I’ve stayed in three neighborhoods at least—Fort Greene, Flatbush, and Williamsburg. Soon, I will move to the Lower East side for a week or two. A year or two ago I kept saying—“I want to travel… I want to work… I want to tour! I want work to bring me to new and exciting places! Indeed—I have gotten what I wished for. And most days I love it. I am excited to go back but it won’t be for a while yet.
And while it is true that I haven’t had more than 36 hours off since I started working on May 16th… it is also hard to imagine jumping back into my LA life. It is only 6 hours on an airplane but it is a sort of cosmic mental shift as well. 3,000 miles and you have a change of climate, social life, job, ‘home’ and more. Sometimes it almost seems to me that the erasure-effect that the ease of airline travel has on places being ‘far away’ from each other makes for a loss of mental awareness to the massive shift that is going on with such a trip/move.
I do feel lucky to have family and friends spread out across so many interesting, unique places. These places have an effect on us, inevitably, and make for an incredible patchwork of experiences that make us who we are.
And I like feeling the closeness, and I like remembering the distance-- and then getting excited that at some point pretty soon I will get on an airplane and 6 hours later I will get off and LA and my life will meet up again... and also I will see the place differently, for the changes in me.
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