draft #2
This has been sitting in my drafts for so long and I’ve decided I need to just hit send. I’ve been thinking about what tone to take up with this newsletter (I almost called it a blog..) My earlier posts feel impersonal and restrained because I find it weird and kind of unnerving that people I know are going to read this. Did you subscribe out of interest? Kindness or pity?
I have an older draft in which I tried to write about my unhealthy relationship with nostalgia, but I couldn’t settle on the right angle to take. Simultaneously, I felt like I was bearing my heart, but telling you nothing at all. With this draft, I aim to dip my toes into writing with less self doubt, no clear format, and true to the ‘arroz con mango’ spirit, no real theme.
Four weekends ago, I took the Metro North to visit my friend in Connecticut. She took me to a book store in Greenwich where I picked up The Wild Iris. At the checkout, the woman exclaims, “oh that’s where that is. He’s been looking for that,” pointing to an older man behind me. “What are the odds,” she adds. “Well she did just die,” I reply, but the woman doesn’t laugh. The day before Louise Glück passed, my boyfriend had asked me if I’d ever read her. You killed her, I text.
Last week, my friend told me she made a new Tumblr. I logged on after many months away and encountered a painting by Saito Kazu, a contemporary Japanese artist working in the traditional Nihonga style. Coined during the Meiji period to differentiate it from its counterpart, known as Yōga (Western-style painting), Nihonga uses mineral pigments, and occasionally ink, together with other organic pigments on silk or paper. I can’t explain it, but this painting gives me the same feeling watching Ghost in the Shell did.
As winter arrived, I decided it was time to use my Core Power yoga gift cards. My dry skin could benefit from the humidity. Midway through class, the instructor played a song off a compilation album I’d found on Spotify at the beginning of the pandemic and hadn’t listened to since. I was happy to hear it again then immediately pained by the fact that I wouldn’t be able to do or think about anything else until I could remember the name.
After class was over, I scrolled through my saved tracks until I found it: Ayonha by Hamid al Shaeri. The album is Habibi Funk 018: The SLAM! Years (1983 - 1988), and the artist is an Egyptian-Libyan singer and producer who is considered one of the most influential figures in Arabic pop, for his unique blend of Western genres like synth-pop, dance music, and rock with traditional Arabic music.
They Core Power employee couldn’t figure out of how to scan my gift certificate so the class was free.
The following week I went back to the same yoga class, but had a different instructor. She started off the lesson by reading a quote from a hardcover copy of Michael Lewis’ Going Infinite which I found insane, but no one else seemed to notice or care. Once again, my certificate didn’t scan and I walked away without paying.
The week before, I went to watch Stop Making Sense at BAM, which no joke made me grin the whole 1 hour 28 minutes through. David Byrne’s stage presence is otherworldly and magnetic. New wave bands often got slack for their artsy pretensions, but the Talking Heads were the real thing and Byrne is a true visionary. As he swayed and bent and shook and sweat I couldn’t help but sing along and kick my leg to the beat. I was self conscious of looking like a performative freak, but I almost felt possessed, fueled by my coke slushie & twizzler combo. As I exited the theater, I thought of this tweet.
I’ve been reading a lot about bands lately.
To Hell With Good Intentions - Mclusky
Mclusky are a Welsh three-piece post-hardcore group formed in 1996. This is from their third and final album recorded in Chicago by Steve Albini. The lyrics “my band is better than your band” reminded me of History Lesson Part 2 by Minutemen in which they sing “our band could be your life” (which is also the title of a book I’m reading by Michael Azerrad). Horsegirl, one of my favorite contemporary Chicago bands, did a great cover of that song.
Bands - Andy Prieboy
I heard this song on Ezra Koenig and Jake Longstreth’s podcast, Time Crisis, and it’s an unexpected ear-worm. Our narrator lives in squalor with the girl of his dreams and when they’re together in bed she’s just ranting about bands. The ones she’s been in, the ones she’s planning to form, and the ones she’s obsessed with. Fast forward two years and he’s done with this woman, when he finds a new girl and what does he do- he starts blabbing about bands!! I just love the cyclical nature and theatrical melody. It’s vivid and gross (“Just to roll in the mud of common cigarette butts and burgundy menstrual blood”), but the alliteration and general word play is fantastic.
ps: in my last letter, I tried manifesting for the first time AND IT WORKED. I asked the universe to help me track down the Brandy Melville US Hardcore Punk shirt and the universe (ie: someone via depop) delivered! The shirt was brand new and makes me laugh every time I wear it. It’s my favorite inside joke with myself.
If you enjoyed reading or absolutely hated this, let me know in the comments below! Happy Holidays to you and yours :-) Wishing everyone happiness and health in the New Year!