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Up Before 8

Musings of a sometimes morning person
Blog: Text

I've been on a bit of a creative kick recently. Maybe it's the super full moon, or the transition to the fall season, or just my personal journey. Whatever it is this creativity of mine has really centered on themes of womanhood, patriarchal structures, and the spaces we make and embody as women. But most importantly I've been considering what it means to be perceived in this capitalist, neo-colonialist, patriarchal society. Doing this work has me thinking about and finding inspiration in other women's work. Sometimes when I see gorgeous quilts on glossy pages or talks of residencies or perfectly aesthetic studio spaces I feel this pressure in my chest. Right there slightly to the left where my heart is rhythmically pumping I feel this pull. This yearning that I spent the majority of my life identifying as jealousy.

But maybe what I am and have felt isn't jealousy or envy but awe. Society tells women that we're supposed to hate each other, envy each other, tear each other down. But maybe what I've always felt is awe at being a woman and seeing women do miraculous things. And maybe I've been afraid, not because I can't do what other women can but because I'm scared to not be what other women need.

Updated: Oct 20, 2023

Filling every crevice

Sticking to every surface

Like a college dorm room after Halloween

Or a pop stars world tour

Trauma can feel like being dipped in glitter

You become a novelty

Like gays to Fire Island

They'll go for a fun summer weekend

But sure as hell aren't toughing it out in the bitter cold in the Atlantic

Trauma is mesmerizing

But everyone stays at arms length

Terrified of being contaminated

And the thing is if they get to close it will rub off

They'll be finding flecks of sparkle forever

But maybe it's worth it

Hugging a disco ball

Updated: Sep 28, 2023

I used to love reading the NYC Craigslist Missed Connections.

I am an anthropologist after all.

I love that these blurbs of a moment are the beginnings of a story.

You were wearing black cut off's and chastising a man in a suit outside of the Mysterious Bookshop, we made eye contact as I passed by. I was wearing a white tee with no bra.

You were reading The Farmer's Almanac on the number 6 uptown at rush hour I was staring at you from behind a dog eared copy of Watch Your Mouth.

Brunette walking through Tompkins Square Park with a duck on a leash. I regret not coming up to you.

The boundless possibilities. The wonderment.

The way someone dressed, talked, carried themselves.

A split second of eye contact and a fire was lit.

The sheer desire for human connection.

Companionship, Relationship, Love.

Sitting in the excitement of opportunity can be both freeing and paralyzing.

Is a crush more exciting than an actual relationship? Is the anxiousness of not knowing easier to stomach than being turned down?

Sometimes I'd rather ruminate in what could be than wallow in what can not be.

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