Hi all!
This week has been documented mostly from the backseat of a suburban on a road trip. It’s me and 7 boys, I’m helping out on a music video, I wasn’t able to find time/space to record audio this week.
Sunday - 11.6.22
Endless packing and unpacking. Thinking about how we got to this point of no return. Standing at the brink of the unknown, this move feels like more than a physical transition. Is anything just that? I had just rearranged the furniture in the old place, moved a mirror, hung a painting, took the fiddle leaf outside where it began to thrive. Everything felt a little lighter all the sudden. Then we got the rent raise and here we are, picking up our lives and hauling them 2 miles away into what feels like an entirely new world. Unknowingly, I summoned the magic, conjuring a bigger shift starting with minute changes in current surroundings.
Monday 11.7.22
Moved allllll the furniture in today. The movers showed up just as the drizzle turned into bonafide rain. I ran down the 7/11 to get them some uplifting beverages a.k.a diet cokes. They got it done so quickly. Now Chris and I have to box up the miscellaneous mess—things you don’t even know you have until its time to move them.
Everything we own feels so out of place in this new bright house with curved ceilings. I want it to feel open and modular, with cozy landing places.
Tuesday - 11.8.22
Waking up in the new house, in the middle of a slow crossfade between past and future. My tooth aches, which isn’t something that will change with location. But I’m here in a new bedroom with a window on either side of the room. It’s raining, raining and we have some things we need to pull out of the van before returning it in an hour. In theory we leave on a road trip in 48 hours.
I’ve been thinking about what it would look like to transcend the game rather than win it. I think that might be my new MO. I’ve never been into the game anyways. Some people are drawn to it, fulfilled by the ebbs and flows. Instead of laying low just under the radar, maybe I can float. From here I should chart the vision. What are the least competitive animals?
Wednesday - 11.9.22
I finished David Sedaris’ audiobook of The Best of Me. The end features a lengthy interview, where he says he wrote for 8 years before ever showing anyone a word. 8 years seems extreme, but I love to hear that. Sedaris tottered between extremes but was committed to deep observation of his surroundings, religiously recording his experiences. He shaped the modern day personal essay genre but followed a long winding path. It’s a nice reminder that we’re allowed to incubate. We don’t need to show our progress all along the way.
Today was the last push of our move out. Reminder to always double your estimate of how long things like this will take. Everything else will fall to the wayside. Be prepared to let it go and let it happen.
Thursday - 11.10.22
Writing this from the backseat of a black suburban, about an hour past Las Vegas. Jumped on a road trip with Chris, shooting with a small crew for a music video. We’re driving a figure 8 path through the desert, caesar’s palace, snowy mountains and maybe even the grand canyon. Always wanted to see the grand canyon. Being in the middle of nowhere with nothing but mountains is always a comfort. Visions have space to dance again and I’m starting to feel clear headed after a hectic few months.
Without the drama of the city, I can see this shift doesn’t mean clearing out every single thing I do and starting fresh, but recalibrating a bit.
Friday - 11.11.22
Left Las Vegas bright and early. As we walked through the casino towards the door I spotted a man, probably mid 50s in sporty business clothes sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. Two casino security guards stood around him and a friend was lying on his side like you do when you try to coax a scared cat from under the bed. It was 7am, Chris thinks he lost big.
We’re heading to sand dunes in Utah. It’s eight of us, a ragtag group. My head was searing all day, not from any partying but just lack of sleep. We wound our way to these giant sand dunes, dusted with snow. Walking through orange sand is such a trip. It was a bit firm from the snow, which looked like a lacy frosting on the sharp sand edges against the crisp blue sky. I realized used to have these exact sort of dunes as my phone wallpaper, all the sudden I felt I’d just jumped through my phone screen into the future.