I must admit the dregs of February are coming down hard on me. The isolation of the snowy cold STYX (I prefer this word choice…Too Much Time on My Hands, get it?) has all but eroded my spirit so to distract myself from encroaching ennui, I pick up my laptop, fire up the Nespresso, and get to work.
Part of doing my work is reading other people’s work. Last week, there was much to keep us entertained online, that’s for fucking sure. The Cut, where I have also published work, unleashed a couple of essays we all talked about: “The Lure of Divorce,” by Emily Gould, and “The Day I Put $50,000 in a Shoe Box and Handed It to a Stranger,” by Cut financial columnist Charlotte Cowles.
If you haven’t yet read them, I strongly urge you to check these essays out. In these essays, both women admit to making drastic decisions in their lives under duress—the kind of decisions that could easily serve as fodder for intense scrutiny in the court of public opinion and boy, did Twitter come alive with the sound of scrutiny: Really?! They did that?! Why would they do that?! Why would they think/feel that?! How could they not have known better than to do that?!
Being a writer is like being a performer to no audience and no applause, and essays are an exercise in extreme vulnerability. We dig deep and vomit up our innards onto a page for your entertainment and, by default, expose ourselves to the reader, not (mainly) to masturbate about our personal business publicly, but to find catharsis.
Seriously, are we breathing and living and being if we don’t somehow fuck up?
New York writer and writing teacher Sue Shapiro wisely uses writing about your greatest humiliation as a prompt because she knows humiliation is one of the very best ways to get metaphorically naked and reveal what it’s like to confront yourself to others. The whole exercise is utterly terrifying but the end result is also utterly rewarding.
Me? I may come off as something of an exuberant communicator but, in reality, I’m a very private person. As such, I get wicked fucking anxious in the days and moments leading up to when I’ve shared a segment of my actual life to be published because I know, inevitably, there will be a few folks coming for me who a) skim the work and miss the point or b) judge me on what I chose to reveal about myself. Fortunately, after all these years in the game my fuck-it reflex is well honed. I know that shared experiences are how we forge any kind of meaningful connection with others and that means more to me than anyone who would take the time to go out of their way specifically to yuck my yum, so to speak.
Whether you can sympathize with the plights of these writers or not, they both understand full well that it’s not enough to put out lyrical prose, prose has to light a match within the reader to ignite emotion, be it frustration or empathy. So I guess my point is, when you read these essays, try and read with humility and see where you land. And for fuck’s sake, let me know what you think in the comments. WHEW.
TEEVEE: People’s Choice Awards
Image: Lenny Kravitz at the People’s Choice Awards
I’m still not sure why I felt compelled to tune into this televised popularity contest, except that this award season had been pretty good so far and I couldn’t get Hubs to revel in the Real Housewives of Potomac artfully shading each other in the Dominican Republic.
I emerged from the experience with two takeaways:
Lenny Kravitz and his whole chest are on one hell of a publicity tour and I’m grateful this gift to our eyeballs keeps giving.
I couldn’t pick a single country music artist out of a line up because it’s like white long blonde hair lady, even whiter long blonde hair lady, whitest long blonde hair lady, Shania Twain. Thank you, Beyoncé, for changing that shit up, pronto.
MOVEEEEEEEZ: Dream Scenario
Anyone else catch this late 2023 Nic Cage flick?
With thoughtful performances from Cage and Julianne Nicholson, it’s quite the creative allegory for how much social media and influencers run the risk of influencing even the least suspecting of us. Successsion’s “Cousin Greg” Nicolas Braun is in there with a cameo, too. The pacing was a little slow at the onset but I’m content with where it landed.
AHHHHHHHHT: Going Dark
Serendipitously, one of my long time besties and I were able to connect on a Sunday and meet up at the Guggenheim to take in Going Dark: The Contemporary Figure at the Edge of Visibility, featuring more than 100 works by a group of 28 artists, the majority of whom are Black and more than half of whom are women.
Faith Ringgold: From Black Light Series
Sandra Mujinga: From Spectral Keepers
Get thee to the show while you can. So many amazing works to absorb that will inspire you and ignite your admiration. Not pictured here are some outstanding monotone paintings from Chris Ofili and Lorna Simpson. Also, be on the lookout for “Hands” by Glenn Ligon. Let me know what you think.
That’s it for now, kids! If you like what you’re reading, please consider hitting this cute lil’ button and telling your people….
And if you REALLY like this post, please consider coming back for more!
I’ll always come equipped with the tea, the whole tea, and nothing but the tea!
xx
MOI