56. BACK IN THE CITY
also, "wasted time does not exist"
my god, you guys. how can i be so busy (artist) and making so little money (unpaid)? somehow, we’re still here.
i’m back in the city, desperately trying to hang on to a kernel of the peace i felt at art farm. we had the return trip from hell. (seriously. our plane caught on fire and then the airline wouldn’t give us hotel rooms so we slept on a bench. pro tip: if you ever get stranded overnight at the dallas fort worth airport, terminal d is your best bet.) another gig i was excited about fell apart. i am sisyphus, rolling the stone up the mountain that is my inbox again. there are so many cool shows closing this weekend that i will not have gotten to see. i’m writing this pretty late at night, and i still have a lot more work to do for one of my freelance jobs. actually, for a lot of them, but some of them will have to wait until tomorrow.
even though being back has already increased my blood pressure, there are good things, too. i feel like people want to work with me. i’m tan but not sunburned, maybe for the first time in my life. so many people whose art i admire are also my friends. (had a fun moment this week when i was on the subway and realized i was actively on my way home from a friend’s play, reading a friend’s book, and listening to a friend’s song at the same time. and all of them are pieces of art i would have liked even if i didn’t know the people involved! it’s just extra fun to know the person who made the thing.) i painted my nails again for the first time in weeks. i found the exact sandals i was looking for today and they cost less than five dollars.
i can already feel that two weeks in nebraska have turned me into an insufferable study abroad kid, but i don’t even really care. i’m just trying to hang on to what i’ve learned. if i’m a little slower at emails, if i need to take longer walks, if i want to spend more time alone — all of that is worth it to me. i was in prospect park a few nights ago and i saw fireflies. i thought when i left nebraska i might not see fireflies again for ages. and instead, i felt like a couple of them followed me home. i’m just trying to take it one deep breath at a time.
reading.
old enough by haley jakobson. i raced through this in just over 24 hours and already have multiple friends on the waiting list. it just feels so good to read a book that is unputdownable.
chapter 2 of the artist’s way. morning pages are definitely harder here, but so far, i’m keeping up.
jillian hess’s excellent substack, noted, which gives a gorgeous inside look at the notebooks of famous artists. i just caught up on the last few installments.
these words from various authors about their first experience with shirley jackson’s famed short story, “the lottery,” which celebrated its 75th anniversary this week. (obviously, if you haven’t read the story, read it first.)
oh, you know, just reading a profile of taylor kitsch from a year ago because that’s where i’m at in my friday night lights feels.
i’m also obviously in my art farm feels, so i went down an internet rabbit hole and ended up finding this blog post by someone i don’t know about their time there.
seeing.
the platte river.
some final glimpses of art farm.
upon returning home, i also finally watched this short pbs feature on art farm, which has some lovely footage of ed dadey, who founded the residency (and was born on the farm!) and grace wong, who runs it with him now. “some buildings evoke… abandonment” really made me laugh. i feel such a deep love for this place and can’t wait to go back.
started season 2 of the bear.
finished season 3 of the other two. so sad this show is over (and so sad to hear about the hr complaints filed during the final season… feeling very “this is why we can’t have nice things”).
friends in the city!
invasive species by maia novi at the tank, directed by michael breslin and featuring my incredible friend raffi donatich.
the below art by demii whiffin.
hearing.
standoff, slate’s podcast about ruby ridge. you know, just something relaxing for my afternoon walks.
“the keep going song” by the bengsons, from early in the pandemic. the bengsons are truly some of my favorite artists. this video never fails to make my heart break open a little more. if you listen / watch below, you’ll know what i mean.
the album, titled the same, is also worth a listen in full.
making.
on our last night at art farm, sophie and i were lucky enough to have the other residents read through the first full draft (!!!) of our new play, the settled. co-writing a play was so deeply educational, rewarding, challenging, and fun. i felt so very grateful to all the residents who read and discussed it with us and gave us hope that there is something there to nurture. here’s a picture of us setting up, below.
after the reading, we all read an interactive poem by juliet gelfman-randazzo over the fire pit. we all shouted “MOOOOOOOOON!” at the sky.
you’re supposed to leave a piece of art behind when you leave art farm, so we drew a map of the settlement where the play takes place on the wall of our studio.
wrote a long letter to ed and grace who run art farm, thanking them for everything.
continued casting this reading i’m doing of a new musical. so close…
zoom meetings for new projects. phone calls for old projects. so much to plan.
