It’s been one of those weeks of self-doubt, frustration, stress, unprofessional idiots, regrets, and dealing with a lot of back & forth about what to do & where to go from here. This piece by Rudyard Kipling (it’s for us daughters too!) is exactly what I needed to feel like Aaliyah..and dust myself off & try again.
“If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise
If you can dream – and not make dreams your master; If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!”
-Rudyard Kipling, If: A Father’s Advice to His Son
We all have friends (this is a relatively secure assumption). We’ve made them over different times in our lives, on numerous journeys, at various ages. But how many of you still have them all? I know I don’t. Friendship is a funny thing in general. I mean, how do groups of people find each other & forge a bond that’s strong enough that makes them want to spend time together over & over again? I find myself wondering that all the time when I see people on the train or at restaurants or elsewhere; how did you all meet, where did you find each other, how did you connect? (Yes, I realize this makes me sound like a creeper, but I’m owning it, people.) Nevertheless, it happens & you go through life with these people who you’re connected to and when you’re young, you’re all BFFLS & BFFAES and when you’re in high school, you’re all about the cool kids & who’s wearing what to the pep rally if not a cheerleader uniform (btw, none of those were me because I was a bony little nerd, a fact I have finally accepted later in life). College comes around and you find like minded individuals with similar interests and passions (read: freedom & drinking, meant: poetry, dance, film, science). Real life finds you meeting people who are settling down, accepting responsibility, becoming “grown ups.” Now look back on all of those times in your life; how many of those BFFs are still around?
If you’re like me, you have numerous & varied circles of friends. If you’re like me, you also have had incidences & circumstances which rendered much change in those groups & relationships. I can honestly say I vividly remember & still keep in touch with many of my friends from elementary school through college (thanks, Mark Zuckerberg!). Are we close? No. But our lives are interwoven with fond memories of becoming adults, and now, social media milestones that still allow a thread of a connection both to each other & to our common pasts.
Unfortunately, time plays its part as do the growth and change of personalities & the people who have them. There are so many friends that cross my mind on a regular basis who I don’t think I’ve spoken to in months, & in some cases, years. So many of the girls from my college dance troupe who have witnessed many of my most catalytic moments, I don’t talk to much anymore, & this is after forming a close bond over 4-5 years of all night practices, 5 hour lunches, open bars, parties, performances, travel, tears, fears, laughter, girl talk, boy talk, & sleepovers. I admire them still & stalk lives via social media, but it’s a tentative connection, albeit based on true love for them. I can still say, however, when it so happens that we do meet, that core of friendship picks up quite quickly, & we will always be bound (in a non-criminal way) by the matching tattoo that 10 of us have depicting the passion that brought us together; dance. Medical school was a whole other story. We all became “family” very quickly (admittedly, due to me trying to make the best of an intimidating situation for all of us) and when you’re stuck on a tiny little island for 16 months (or more), studying instead of going to lay by the crystal clear turquoise waters that are right below your balcony, you become realllly close reallllly fast and things can get pretty dramatic pretty fast too. But what happens when you are back to reality (oops, there goes gravity..jk) and seeing your old pre-island friends and trying to readjust to non-island life? Some things can fall apart, and some things stay glued together. In my case, I was lucky to be able to hold on to some very true & real friendships with people who, although I’ve only really known for 7 years at this point, are some of the closest confidantes I have. They may not all be very good friends with each other, but they are very good friends to me, and that is probably the one thing I came away with from Caribbean Med that I treasure the most. Unfortunately, there are also some people who I was unable to stay connected to & although that gives me little pangs now & again, there is clarity in hindsight, and the reason for the disconnect was always valid.
At the end of the day, all of those little clichés about people coming in & out of your life whether for you to change them in some way or for them to change you (for better or worse) ring loud, ring clear, & ring true. I’ve had friends who have made me less trusting, friends who have made me more hopeful, friends who have made me more perceptive, friends who have made me more suspicious, friends who have made me brighter, and friends who have dulled my luster. But for a brief moment in the timeline of our lives, we intersected, we connected, and we loved; and sometimes, that’s just plain good enough.
To all of my own lost connections, be they by chance, choice, or circumstance, know that I think of you often. When a certain song comes on or when I smell something familiar or especially when I’m pondering on the past (which I do more often than I’d prefer), I wonder what you all are up to and hope that you are happy & well. There will forever be people and places that will own a sliver of your memory and a part of your heart. And to borrow from John, George, Paul, & Ringo, all these places had their moments, with lovers & friends I still can recall. In my life, I loved them all.
Arts & Culture: What is Art? Is art art? Are we art?: Lisa Turtle’s Dilemma & Its Relation To 5 Pointz & Self-Expression
Today’s Mood Ingredients: Inspired, Sad, Artistic, Logical.
If you’re not a New Yorker or you’re not an artist, there is a chance you may not have heard of iconic 5 Pointz, an outdoor art exhibit space on a 20,000 square foot factory building in Long Island City. Aerosol artists from New York’s five boroughs & all over the world came to 5 Pointz to graffiti (in the non-negative sense of the word) all over the space, attracting the likes of boldfaced stars like Doug E. Fresh, Mos Def, & Joan Jett as well. 5 Pointz became a haven for those artists whose medium was aerosol spray cans, and let’s be honest, not quite the most respected of the lot. They would flock to the factory building to express, impress, inspire, collaborate, and experiment, all the while creating incredible colorful displays of, what I presume to be, their thoughts. Unfortunately, as of November 2013, 5 Pointz is no longer in existence. As the curator of the space petitioned to have 5 Pointz become a museum & save it from demolition, the owners of the building had the space whitewashed overnight with the security of police protection. Here comes the question. What was the point in the whitewashing? If the building was to be demolished anyway, why add insult to injury & just go and basically delete the years of expression and artistry and hard work that went into the pieces on those walls? Understandably, the owners of the building had/have the right to do whatever they want with the space, it’s theirs. What I don’t understand is this; for years, this space was a place for community and expression. For years, it thrived as a place for this specific type of artist to come & not be arrested for using aerosol to create. Why the sudden urge for condominiums (and in an already saturated Long Island City)? It is obviously illegal to “tag” up a public place & you can and will be arrested for graffiti’ing pretty much everywhere, which I agree with. Sorry, but I don’t want to see your big orange bubble letters on a public library wall. However, I can appreciate artistry with the best of them & do believe that those individuals who excel in this form of art should have a place where they are free from the fear of glowing blue & red lights and silver (definitely not a cute accessory) cuffs. The need for people to put their feelings into something solid and tangible is valid. The need for a businessperson to want to make more money is valid. I refuse to believe that some sort of agreement or middle ground couldn’t have been reached in this case.
All of that rhetoric aside, I’d like to ask a question of you. What is self-expression exactly? An outlet that allows an individual to feel free, to be themselves, to be unique, maybe to release stress or anger or sadness? That’s what it is to me, anyway, and I couldn’t survive without it. I don’t know what I’d do if someone suddenly erased all records of my dance performances or told me that I can no longer use a particular space to dance in that I had been connected to and performing in for years. In my opinion, self-expression is a necessity for society. To be able to not only make yourselves feel, but to inspire and to make others feelsomething, anything, with something you have created with the fruits of your labor is an irreplaceable, inherently good thing. To many, it may be intangible. To many, it may be too philosophical. But to many, it is innate and it is important.
Art to one person, whether it be performance or creative or visual, may be trash to another, but who is the decision maker as to what should be revered and what should be disregarded? My heart goes out to you, artists of 5 Pointz & all other such artists out there. The wonderful part about expressing yourself through your art is that you always have your tools within you. That’s something no one can steal from you & I suppose there is at least a little solace in that. I hope you find somewhere else accepting of your immense talents and understanding of your visions, because, Ansel Adams said it best:
“No man has the right to dictate what other men should perceive, create or produce, but all should be encouraged to reveal themselves, their perceptions and emotions, and to build confidence in the creative spirit.”
More information about 5 Pointzhere, and more articles about the demolition here.
If there’s anything that Sex & The City has taught us single 30-somethings in NYC, or any city for that matter, it’s that whether or not you’re anywhere near finding your Mr. (or Mrs.) Big, the dating scene will provide you with much fodder to talk about over brunch with the girls. The constant he-said/she-saids, the will they/won’t theys, the should I/shouldn’t I-s often turn Sunday afternoon mimosas into Monday morning hangovers.
Most days I feel like a combination of Taylor Swift, a Disney princess, & Daria. None of the looks, some of the grace, all of the snark..in one messily wrapped romantic present; using both meanings of that last word. Other days, I feel like an old lady who’s running out of time. All of the above are valid. As a 32 year old person who has been single for the past 7 years, you’d think I’d be missing being in a relationship. The truth is, I’m more content than I have been in a long time. That’s not some bitter-but-Beyoncé-esque-independent-woman sentiment either. At this point in my life, I just feel like I would like to concentrate on myself; my career (big change from medical school to fashion designer), my family (whom I have neglected in the past when consumed in a relationship), my nephew (who is my lifetime Valentine), and just my own overall well-being. Now, if I were 18-23 years old and saying this, everyone would be lauding me on my thought process & how I’m “so mature, that’s a great way to find yourself and see what you want out of life!” but at 32, the same people are literally distressed for me; “Oh wow, don’t you want to have children? Aren’t you worried you’ll be alone & seek companionship when it’s too late? Time is running out! Let me set you up, I know this friend who knows a friend!” No. Sorry. I do not want to meet some random human that you know through your boss’ secretary’s dog’s groomer. Time is not running out. I’m 32! Hopefully I’m not about to disappear tomorrow; I survived the End of the World in 2012 after all! Yes, children are important to me. I want little mini-me creatures running amok in the world causing hilarity and absurdity in the lives of the population more than anything else in the world, but there are options. We don’t live in the age where single parenthood, freezing eggs, surrogacy, etc. are not available to us. Not to say that I want any of those things, but though I do want to be happily married someday, I don’t think a husband is the be-all & end-all of my world. For those who know me, you know my favorite woman of all time besides my mother, grandmother, & godmother, is Mindy Kaling. And you know what, unsurprisingly enough, she said it best:
“I would love to be married. But it’s not a necessity like the way that I feel I need & want to have children. It would be wonderful to have a husband, & I would feel blessed to do it. But I would feel sad for the rest of my life if I had no kids.”
Plus, between trying an online site & finding a couple of nice guys who weren’t quite my type & some who were more arrogant than Charlie Sheen on a tiger blood rant, and making myself “more available & approachable” by going out to various events (aside from the bar scene, FYI) and nearly being mauled by someone else’s face on mine with the witty inebriated pickup line of “Whatever, can I just kiss you now!?,” the dating scene isn’t all that savory right now in my experience. Flirting has turned into what I like to call “dirting;” the new wham bam thank you ma’am of the current supposedly adult-ish generation, but without even the facade of genuine interest.
There are plenty of think pieces, blog posts, hell, whole books dedicated to “the single 30-something,” & most often, they are directed towards the single 30-something woman. I tried a Google image search using “single 30-something women” to find a picture for this post & except for pictures of SJP, Cynthia Nixon, Kim Cattrall, & Kristin Thomas, all I saw were pictures of sad lonely women, a headline of Kim Kardashian saying “I Thought I’d Be Married By Now,” & a book titled something like 30-Something, Why Am I Still Single? I relate to NONE of the above. And this isn’t some feminist rant, but come on! All of my friends are working, traveling, creating..living..single or otherwise. They aren’t sitting & wallowing in their singledom, they’re enjoying it, & some want to keep it that way forever while the others are dating or content in the belief that “it’ll happen when it happens.”
Basically all I have to say to those who keep asking me when it’s going to be my turn, today on Valentine’s Day, and every other day is this:
Bitch, don’t kill my vibe.
Today’s Interlude: Michael Bublé, “Haven’t Met You Yet”
champagne & cookiedough 