Shea is curled tightly at my feet, as she has been for the past several hours while I’ve been reading through The Grapes of Wrath accompanied by Working Days.
I’m not sure what I would do without this Ragya app on my phone. Listening to this music is wonderful. I don’t understand the words, when there are words, and so I am not distracted by them. It is so powerful though, that if and when I need a break I can close my eyes and be completely overtaken by the music, the sounds of the various instruments, most of which I don’t know the names of. When I close my eyes it’s as if I can feel space, the space I inhabit, and that which I don’t, and it changes. It vibrates, it jumps about, it shrinks and expands. And it moves, or I move through it, all while laying here on this couch.
A. and I talked today in the afternoon. We only talked for two hours, and at first, my contribution was mostly silence as I settled into what I wanted to talk about, what I could share, what I wasn’t ready to. We covered many things; personal challenges and griefs, society and its continuous march towards ever-expanding complexity, social contracts, politics, our own careers and what they look like coming out of the pandemic, how they have changed, how we have had to change, or the ways in which we are still stuck.
My biggest issue still remains how I adapt to the changing role I play in the relationship that began before the pandemic. At first, it was merely a friendship between two people not looking for anything else. I was exploring ways to help reduce my constant sense of loneliness by adopting a notion of radical vulnerability. I wanted to determine if being more vulnerable gave rise to a natural increase in intimacy, something that I still believe is lacking in today’s society. One thing led to another, and I trapped myself in a relationship. That’s for another time and place. But oh what a wonderful experience it was. However, it has continued to play out and the isolation has returned. Once frequent messaging, abundant with enthusiasm, has become sparse at best, with responses adopting a somewhat obligatory tone. Times are still difficult. It is a harrowing experience transitioning from someone important in someone else’s life, to seemingly insignificant, or at least much less so. I don’t want to be an emotional burden to anyone, so I am waiting to address the issue if ever there is a chance. Still… I am coming to terms with the idea that, perhaps, I was just a pandemic lover, a therapeutic, and that might have to be enough.
I was able to do something productive today. I’m hoping (always hoping) to begin publishing a weekly newsletter on (through?) Substack. One look at my blog (and past iterations) should be enough for anyone (especially myself) to roll their eyes and say “mmh, sure you are.” However, I have been inspired by Fariha Róisín’s newsletter, how she uses it for herself while still providing so much in it for the reader. I took another tip from Alicia Kennedy and her newsletter and made a digital library on Bookshop.org where I will list the books I reference (both here and on my newsletter*). Below was what I came up with last night.
“I’m a photographer trying to be a writer (whatever that means) with a (hopefully) weekly newsletter that offers my life, in words and images, as both subject and medium to better understand what it means to exist. I hope to use it as a place for me to openly voice my own struggles, and by doing so allow myself to heal, grow, and learn through observation and introspection.
I generally have too much time on my hands. Combine that with a non-liner, neuro-divergent brain and you get quite a bit of thought-meandering. As such is the case, topics, which often blend together, can include issues relating to media, culture, climate, and politics (to single out a few). It goes without saying there will be a lot of rumination on photography.
Here are the books I reference.”
That’s it for this blog post. Feeling okay today (18 March). Better than yesterday, and yesterday wasn’t so bad.
*Housekeeping: Yes, they are affiliate links, and through the purchase of a book on Bookshop.org you help support me, this blog, the newsletter, etc…but you also raise money for local bookshops as well. However, for the sake of the environment, use your library, thrift your books, buy local, or shop for used copies on Alibris.com.