On keeping it in (and letting it out, honey)
I took the day off today. I am exhausted and took a train to be around more trees. I cried on the subway on my way home last night, which might be the first time in ten years that actual tears came out on the MTA. I don’t know how I feel about holding it in so much. Little did I know I’d throw up from motion sickness the next day because life is full of meaning.
I’m listening to the new Charli XCX. I like it. No notes. It’s warm out and it’s pride month, but I haven’t had much of an appetite for going out lately. The world is on fire. I am not sure if you know this, and I am sorry if this is the first time you’re hearing about it. There is so much pressure building up all of the time–internally and outside of myself. I think everyone can feel it too. I hope this is not the first time you are noticing it. At least the new Charli is good. At least we can barf sometimes when we can’t hold it in anymore.
My day job has been stressful. My energy is depleted. I am wondering what sustainability looks like, but long-term thinking feels impossible right now. The world is on fire. Despite this, I’m pouring my energy into a pride party I’m throwing for work. Work is consuming me. And I don’t like it. So many artists and impactful people I love are leaving the city. No one can seem to sustain themselves here. I wonder what the shape of New York City will be in ten years. It seems like it will only be a place for the rich. Where isn’t these days?
“No one cool can afford to live here anyone.” My boyfriend and I keep talking about this. We moved in together and painted the walls and put rugs on the floors. Creating a home is the only thing keeping me grounded. Realizing a home can travel is something I’m trying to remember.
Someone asked me what I might do if I didn’t have to work work everyday. I said “paint.” I don’t paint, so that was a weird answer. The world is on fire though, so why not paint? I got caught Googling “what’s the spiritual significance of a rash?” I couldn’t find an answer. I suppose it’s that god wants me to have a rash. Even my autoimmune system can’t keep it bottled up anymore.
I started this newsletter to write about art and labor and mentow iwness, and I suppose it’s remained on topic for the most part. The world is on fire, so individual opinions feel less attractive to me right now. But I’m still giving them. I pay $9 a month for this so I might as well. I appreciate you reading–I’m just checking in. Also, I’m kind of looking for side gigs to get my mind back into an artistic place–send me recs for residencies or opportunities or commission a meme or something silly–a paining???; hire me to be a comedy writer and watch me rise to fame never losing sight of where I come from, until I do and then watch me humbled by humanity before the world explodes; find me a patron who wants to give me $6 billion I can share with you. Thanks. Love you.
I’ve dropped the ball on sharing things happening and things I think you should know about and support. So here are some of those:
THINGS:
Help a queer Gazan and his family to safety
Das Ersatz: These two are geniuses and this show needs to be seen. Early snippets of the work were impeccable.
Can I be Frank?: Morgan Bassichis is my hero and you probably can’t get tickets to this anyone but if you can, you must.
Visual AIDS pride party: Tickets are $10. Performances by my literal icons Hamed Sinno, River Ramirez and Viva Ruiz. Music by BLKshine