I have five full days left in the city until I depart. I leave for Ithaca on Tuesday, drive down to Rhinebeck on Thursday, and make my way back into the city the following Monday. I leave for Oregon that Saturday in the early morning. My bag has begun to overflow a little as I overestimate the things I will need along the way. Those who have been in my room know that I leave many things scattered and maybe this is an attempt for me to not forget the things I own. However, I know as I am away, many things will begin to collect dust. In order to try and protect my musical gear, I am lending a lot of it away (hopefully the world will see Tessa Cahill soaking up the sauce with my “bagel bet” electric guitar).
As sad as I am to be leaving home, I don’t think I have ever been more ready to go.
My fear of thunderstorms is being challenged as we brace ourselves for a week of not-stop storms. I think I’m feeling a shift there which is hard to fully conceive. I watched the alley behind where I work shake on Friday as it was struck by lightning, the water quickly rising by the dumpsters. Less than 30 minutes later, I watched it all go down the drain as my dad sent me photos of the rainbows. I remained calm, which, contrasted with my several thunderstorm induced panic states of the past year, was, once again, a moment of realization that I am going through a period of massive change, internally and externally.
That same week I reconnected with a notebook that I got during the springtime. During this last stormy dispatch shift, I wrote down a little over 100 questions. Questions both general, and very specific to people in my life. Who knows if I will ever be able to ask them all, but I at least know that that list is going to grow a lot. I have been writing several times a day, everyday, as a way to think, and remember. Aidan comes to mind in this process as he is someone who carries around a notebook everywhere and often writes as a practice of memory.
Yesterday, I went over to Tessa’s home for the first time, which turns out to be a five minute walk from my dad’s. I went through some of the questions I had written with her and her family. I have forgotten how important good questions are, and how much more interesting they make our surroundings. We spent several hours talking about concerts and condiments and birds, etc. I was introduced to Tessa’s killer disco ball and was given the honor of using her muppet cup. We spent the end of our hang creating zines, and continuing our question trek. I was very grateful to share that time, getting to know her better. We watched lightning scatter the skies of Brooklyn as her dog hid in the bathroom.
Today I took the B62 to see Leon up in Williamsburg, a neighborhood he describes as “post-hip” aka no longer cool to anyone but bankers. We talked about dead horses and Madonna while on a quest to find books by Mary Oliver. We also somehow entered the realm of sauce discussion, which to me is always a blessing. We met an interesting lady who works at Heatonist (a hot sauce shop) and learned a little bit about her experience in the sauce industry. I am grateful for good questions. The sun came out, and before the rain made its way down again, I was headed back to work on the B62.
This week has been hard. Incredibly. But I am noticing that the way in which I am processing and experiencing it is very closely aligned to my thought process at the start of highschool. This is a good thing. I think I was a lot more compassionate with myself at the end of covid as I navigated meeting new people, attempting to escape loneliness. And now I’m seeing myself being more kind and curious in spite of feeling lonely, sad, scared, whatever you want to call it. Also, spending time with friends has allowed me to express my feelings of love for strangeness and community, and remind myself why I am always going to be coming back to this city, and why I will always choose to surround myself with people. I think this is reflected in my fear of thunderstorms, or I guess not so much fear anymore. I am changing, but am also the same. Maybe I am also feeling particularly close to nature right now. Sunsets post storms have always been my favorite. I’m learning how to take that in alone, as well as with others. Even when feelings of wanting to stay in bed all day and curl up into a little ball are strong, I haven’t been letting myself get locked into that state. Instead I write, or call my grandma, or talk about sauce and birds. I am proud of myself for this. I think I have come a long way since last year, or even a few months ago.
Last Tuesday I watched the sunset with Maria on their roof. It is one of the most beautiful places in the city. It’s been a while since I’ve been up there, and in some way the view makes me feel very small. Not in a “nothing matters” kind of way, but in a “there is so much out there” kind of way. It was good to reflect on this past year with a friend who I have watched grow a lot, and who has watched me grow a lot. It was a special kind of quiet. I am excited to see our friendship continue to evolve.
It has always been just as important to laugh with my friends as it has been to cry with my friends. I feel like I’m doing a lot of both now.
Something else that I have been going back to is poetry. I have been reading a LOT of poetry, still haven’t written a poem in more than a month though. Surely that will change. Some of my favorites have been by Mary Oliver and William Carlos Williams. It feels like they understand me. They put complicated feelings into simple, but beautiful words. They also both write a lot about birds.
Every dream/nightmare I have had over the past few days has featured birds. They are incredibly important to me right now. Trees and birds. Trees and sauces and birds. If I feel the time is right, I might elaborate more on birds in the next newsletter. Just know that they will be on my mind a great deal over the next year. I had a transformative experience with a group of birds last week and I think it has definitely been a big contributor in how I’ve been dealing with my emotions and thoughts as of late. It was truly transformative.
Today I am thankful for birds and questions.
So I leave you with this question(s): #40 What is your favorite kind of bird? What bird do you think you’d be? Is there overlap?
My Answer: Heron/Crane. Rooster/Hawk. No.
question: if you were to fly away as a bird, who would it be?
raven, raven, raven