Tuesday, February 25, 2014

City Sidewalks

There are many things to be said for openness. One of those things is that I, myself, don't have a particular tendency for it - for having an open mind, being open to the possibilities of a situation. I am one of those "door is half closed" people most of the time. Embracing the good things about a situation isn't my strong suit, to put it as lightly as anyone could possibly put anything. It's not a great quality, but it's how I've been for as long as I can remember.

I've been reading a lot of articles and blog posts about living in New York lately - how it's a world of magical unicorn dreams, how it's a place whose existence is built around completely WRECKING people, how it's just not the place for creative people anymore. I have been in all three of these - and innumerable other - camps during my life here (really just "my life" since I've been here for all of it).  After a long week of work and empty job searching, I was probably just in the "where is my alcohol and where are my cookies camp." Walking around the lower east side the other day, though, I began to think about it again.

I've been against this city for a very long time. I've been bitter about the fact that in a city of millions of competitive, money-needing people, it's hard for me to find a job doing something that I even remotely want to do for enough pay to split my rent with my boyfriend. I've been resistant to the lifestyle I know I need to adapt if I want to live in a city that I don't completely want to live in, and the fast-paced nature of things that I can't seem to keep up with. I've been very closed, is what it comes down to, to everything about this city. I don't love it enough to justify its demands, and that's overshadowed my relationship with it lately.

Justin and I were getting dinner at this tiny hole in wall Italian place with the word "Lil" in its name the other night. It was cheap, simple, and delivered some of the best pasta I've potentially ever had in my life, for real. Justin was telling me about a movie he'd seen earlier in the day when a man at the next table turned to us to shake his hand. The man was the main actor from the movie Justin was talking about. Now, talking over bread and lemon pasta, he was a real life person. If there was ever a "New York Moment," it was happening at our cramped, dimly lit table that night. And as much as people say, "only in New York," and as much as I hate the myth of "only in New York," I looked up at Justin and said, through spaghetti teeth, "only in New York."

I don't love New York, and it's okay that I don't love New York, I've decided. The important thing, I think, is finding the things to like. I don't like a lot of big things about New York. But I do like the little book stores I'm always finding, and the Lil restaurants with delicious pasta, and that poets I love are constantly reading here for free, and seeing actors from Orange Is the New Black in the Urban Outfitters sale section (this happened that same day, btw) and that I get to explore it with someone who make a place I've lived my whole life feel entirely new. It's not about being perfect, I guess, but about finding the ways to be happy -  and not letting the big overshadow the Lil.

Skirt: American Apparel, Top, Jacket: Thrifted, Sweater: Zara, Boots: Docs


Monday, February 17, 2014

Foxhole Print Shop

I am one finicky lady, let me tell you. As much as I go on and on about how much I want stability ("give me a full time job! give me a life plan!" - excerpts from all of my previous posts), I have a tendency to move around a lot, from thing to thing to thing. I've always had a little bit (ahem) of trouble finding my focus. A while ago, I got an idea to start making literary brooches, and then I made literary brooches, because I wanted to make literary brooches. And that was fun, and brought some great opportunities to me, but eventually, honestly, I got bored. I wanted something new.

In the interim, I've tried a little bit of sewing, a little bit of clay working, a little bit of pillow making, a little bit of day drinking. Nothing really stuck for more than a little bit, though. If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that poetry is essentially the one thing that's stuck for me. However, writing is not always easy, and it is not always fun, and it sometimes makes me want to burrow into a hole under my desk with a tray of brownies because, man, it can really kick your butt.

This is where my new endeavor comes in - Foxhole Print Shop. When I couldn't write, but needed to be creative (because that need is a true, real need) I began to doodle. And then it became that whenever I got frustrated with my writing, I began doodling - so much so that I felt myself develop a little bit of a style. Now, I've decided to turn my doodles into prints and start up a little etsy store called Foxhole Print Shop. I'm very excited about this new endeavor, to see what comes of it and where it takes me (and what new doodles I'll spit out...of my hand...?). I think it will at least help me figure out what trajectory I want this blog to have in the future

As a little thank you for all of your support, I'm offering all of my readers a free shipping discount code - "FREESHIP". So take a look around - I hope you like what you see!

(and one photo of my cheesy gopher face for good measure, am I right)