hey, hello
a roundup: what I'm reading, watching, talking, laughing, loving, breathing, fighting, f*cking, crying, drinking—um—
I’ve been wrangling with particularly bad patch of pain and exhaustion the last month which has meant most days I have about five good hours before I’m out of energy/spoons and have to lie down. I saw a TikTok recently where the creator described their morning routine as “immediately returning to the same spot on the couch I spent the entire day prior” and felt that like an inside joke from an estranged family member told years later. Or something. Loving your animal body is a lot when you’re in pain so most days I’m channeling a jazzy skeleton whose cracking bones are just part of the charm. When I introduce myself anywhere new, I mention my 80-year old grandpa knees and joints like petrified jello.
Despite being the shortest month, February feels the most jangly — the pluck and verve of January disappears into liminal time with no discernible entry or exit point. My life mirrors this right now, squished into an in-between and I’m doing my best not to get claustrophobic. I’m impatient and too exacting with myself and my projects and so lovingly and sternly telling the part of me that craves perfection (and equates it with witness and worth) to take a nap, practice, then share anyways. We’re all just rattling bones and approximations of rhythm. So in lieu of finished thoughts, here’s a roundup of what’s been going on between jazz hands and daily trying to beat my mom’s wordle score.
My brain fog is thicker than pond scum so reading has been difficult and that’s alright! If you are also disabled and have a film of algae coating your neurons, I’m with you. We’ll skim the surface together and watch the water bugs dart. I’m currently finishing up I, Robot for a book club, queued up Crying in H Mart, and trying again to make it through Woolf’s The Waves. Daily poetry thanks to pome and Poem Per Diem. 2022 thus far:
The Brothers Karamazov, Fyodor Dostoevsky
Are Prisons Obsolete?, Angela Y. Davis
The Giver, Lois Lowry
Second Place, Rachel Cusk
Norma Jean Baker of Troy, Anne Carson
I’ve also gotten a Letterboxd in an attempt to be better at cataloguing and recording what I’m watching because my avoidant ass delights in putting off writing until later. It takes a bit for my thoughts to settle already, so hoping to encourage sifting sooner. You can view my lists and diary over there, but some notable watches thus far:
Persona (self as object as subject as desirer as desired as mother as child as friend as mirror as vampire as etc etc etc)
Tampopo (make sure you buy pasteurized eggs after watching xo!)
Encanto (rip to my Spotify year in review which will definitely just consist of “Surface Pressure” 5x over)
And Just Like That…The Documentary (my boyfriend was the camera assistant on this which means it is my favorite documentary of the year)
C’mon C’mon (Mike Mills is my dad now)
on the way to get eucalyptus / movie theater bathroom snap / heart! doughnuts!
I managed to go on a few walks mid January and have been posting and archiving some photos on my vsco which has been a nice change of pace from instagram. The older I get the more I want to burrow away in the dirt. Screw perception and performance, I just want to draw gay shit and be sentimental about trees. Everything I write is just a letter to someone I love saying look.
In art related news, I illustrated some pieces for Kathleen Gullion’s essay On Being Tough in January, which was a fun challenge and gave me the perfect excuse to play with repetition, lines, and mosaics. I’m happy with the finished series even though I invariably finish anything and want to start over.
Personal work has mostly consisted of sketching studying sketching studying despairing sketching studying repeat. I’ve been following along with Croquis Cafe’s 2022 Figuary and also doing my best at getting some daily gesture drawing in before I run out of spoons. It’s values time over here so I’ve been thinking a lot about distillation vs reduction and squinting at photos. More or less art stuff posted on my sketch dump IG, persimmondyke, but here are some recent scribbles (some featuring studies of Michael Lauricella’s Morpho and work from a course I’m taking with Steve Huston).
so many head studies / so many 60 second gesture drawings
Last but maybe most importantly, Jenna and I just finished Arcane and it’s all I want to think about so please gush with me, I have Arcane brain rot and am now dreaming of making a steam punk comic. It’s nice to be a nerd. As a teen and young adult I tried to be ~*serious*~ (gag!) and then I stopped caring. In the last few years, I’ve returned to what made young Han tick. My tarot reads recently have all attenuated this sense which is like being home amongst my many selves; I feel again like the 12 year old me who wanted to be an elf (real ones remember arwen-undomiel.com) and wrote Avatar: The Last Airbender fan fiction. While identity is anything but fixed, my internal system has been more integrated and I owe it all to nerding out about comics (also therapy and antidepressants). Liking stuff is cool! Earnestness is embarrassing but I’m building up my muscles for it. Here are some Arcane memes.
Until next time — xox