Christmas

My life as fiction:

There was a party on a boat for the hospital. A cruise called Spirit of Boston, meaning that twenty minutes in comes the realization that exchanging pleasantries isn't that pleasant, and that to escape into drinking is not an option with a morning shift looming, and that one has to smile and try to enjoy oneself.

By which I mean to say, maybe not-me learned some things about some people that she didn't need to know, and maybe some of that they learned later, but that's okay. There were no cheating wives. There was no man who slept with three women from his workplace. There was no higher-up who did worse than either. After the ship and the dancing there may have been pool (which I was brilliant at!) at a bar everyone was invited to by a heart-broken nurse, but there I wasn't complimented on my lipstick as he lamented all the girls scattering when he came around.

Similarly, Christmas Eve was not spent in West Bridgewater. I didn't walk barefoot through the misty neighborhood. Nobody said a single racist thing. Not a single person made a fool of themselves! Nobody got angry, everyone was happy with their gifts, and I definitely, undeniably got a full nights' rest, most likely in my own bed and not on a fold-out couch at Emily's. Incredible, right?

And Christmas day dinner was not four Jews and a Catholic-raised Atheist talking about mind-control for the good of the masses. That's ludicrous! Dinner couldn't have been served on the porch; after all, it's the end of December. There was no tilapia and certainly no pumpkin cupcakes with cream cheese frosting or warm hugs. 


cheers to the most Christmas I've ever had in my life.

not a ghost

Months passed I had a dream - A boy I liked from high school but had lost touch with was dancing with me. It was in a building that used to be a psychiatric hospital years ago, by a lake with tall stone walls and hallways that echoed. Ghosts would pop up and then disappear just as suddenly. I've since wondered: if ghosts are usually freed to the spiritual world by resolving the issue that was tying them to the earth past their due, what do you do with a ghost of a paranoid schizophrenic? Are they more likely to get stuck here forever, unable to be brought clarity?

A week ago a friend I had in college killed himself. From my last communications with him, it was clear he had become increasingly disorganized and paranoid, overburdened with false guilt, annoyed by the lack of freedom. When Kelsey called I knew from her voice what she was going to talk to me about, I just didn't expect it to happen so soon.

He had been so sensitive, he was so bright - I can’t imagine what it is like to see yourself losing that, especially for a person to whom intellectual acuity is paramount - emotional sensitivity key - and he certainly felt that the medications blunted him in so many ways. 

At one point he had been one of the people I hung out with a fair amount, he came to a couple of my movie nights and I took photos for This Bardian Life, and we went out dancing, and he came to my 21st birthday party and numerous lunches and dinners together, he called wine vino and had a particular way he nodded his head, large bony hands, hair that had to be constantly swept to the side, low voice and eyes that paid attention when you talked; conversations not to be had in passing. 

I wish I had more I could find of him, it's a strange drawback of having communications in person, in vivo; you can't look over them later. I read something for TBL, he was thinking maybe I should expand it, I was concerned -- 
You mean you think the re-work would weaken it? I think that's reasonable. If you're interested in a remaster, go for it, although, with my bit of experience with creative work I was thinking your past self might have more to say. But it's up to you, of course. Send me the new version if you're comfortable; i'm also open to talking more about your process if you'd like.
 

We lost touch, he had started to lose something, and I was busy and attributed it to other things until we had stopped trying to speak to each other once I had graduated over a year ago now and only recently did I hear from him again, but not him, some other person. I miss the he who I knew, who he was, but both are entirely gone now. I know I can’t feel like I could have done something, but I wasn’t there, one of my last messages to him an apology for us not having maintained contact, and somehow I want to apologize for him being dead, to apologize to him for the sorrowful mix of genetics and environment that led him to not be here anymore, age 22 forever, for the world for having played such a cruel trick on him, that I couldn't do anything to stop it.

I don’t believe in restless ghosts: I have my memories of you on this side. 

script

A few months back with Karen, I put on red lipstick and we went out. I thought every woman should have a lipstick of a color so violent and true. We tried to go to a concert at the Middle East but we but never found the music, just scattered people. We wound up coming back to my apartment, and then two hours later drinking with my roommates at a bar in another part of town.

And then this Saturday, with Essie, at Great Scott. We got to dance but she told me a time that was 15 minutes earlier than when it officially started. The dancing happened an hour after that (we danced alone one the dance floor at first; we did what we came to do, sober and resilient)

Both times it felt like going out with friends in early high school. You have the means, you have good company, but waiting to be seated, sitting down, looking at the menu, ordering, eating, asking for more of whatever, getting the check, figuring out tipping and splitting the bill. This is all a script that comes seamlessly now but had to be learned at first. And I simply have not yet learned the script for going out to concerts and clubs. Come too early, try and persevere. I'll learn it eventually I suppose.

first ever dream about work, almost a year old: Lanauntylaunt and I had gone to a beach with all the patients. The waves beat gently against the shore, the sun was setting. Everyone was happy. They may not have been 'cured' of their ailments, but at least of a moment, the fog was lifted and the misery was gone.

into the fold

I tried to eat every morsel of remembrance on my trip back to Annandale, it was hot and on the ride there Donnie manned the music, and Charlotte manned the wheel, and Elyse and I sat in the back awaiting our fates. "McDonalds bought a nearly complete T-rex skeleton for a museum in exchange for it's own wing. How do you guys feel about this?" Charlotte asked.

We arrived on campus and went to explore the changes. There is a new baseball field, cut out of the woods where many a person had peed on those fresh-aired Smog-filled nights. There was a bench we found by the campus center, bright blue and fresh. The ropes on the swing had been changed, and on North Campus there was a barn that had only been in the minds eye last year. We went to the burrito stand and feasted (some things are reliably good), the smoky hot sauce and cool root beer went down my glutenous throat.



Glutenous for all I had missed: hours pouring over books, long walks and conversations, screaming from the community garden to hear my anger echo against the dorms and back to me, and the beautiful ephemeral bloom of magnolia blossoms each year. So much had not changed, but I am no longer there, it is no longer mine, and I am no longer part of the Hudson Valley landscape.

After lunch, my road-trip companions dropped me off at Sorrel's house, same one she had lived in last year, and Will and Hannah (back from France just last week) were there to greet me. There is so much more responsibility as a graduating person (I had forgotten). The balancing of visitors, and family, and friends graduating with you, and looking for advice from favorite professors!

So Will skipped off and Hannah and I made dinner while the night set in, Sorrel still tending to all her other responsibilities. Hannah and I sat by the window talking about the feeling of religious devotion without religion, depression and who you surround yourself with, solitude and lonesomeness. Nina asked what rituals we do in place of those religious ones so many have. Hours passed.

When Sorrel did come, we huddled on her bed, avoiding the crowded tent party in favor of the company of two. The shunting of conversations deeper than a kiddie pool that happens in the real world did not happen here, and depth of warmth to match. The effervescent eager conversation. Here: here is my heart and mind now, know how I have changed and how I love you.

The next morning Will, Hannah and I went to the Tivoli Bakery. Cranberry-corn muffin, cinnamon bun, sandwich, coffee. We sat in the grass with Will's friends.  Then we went to see our seniors walk.

When the fireworks came, I was surrounded by the right people. "If you lie down on your back, the sound reverberates in your chest" "Oh! It's true" Kelsey responded. Will kept berating me for missing the fireworks - "Look T---! Look! Turn around!". After that we all danced.

In the morning, I watched Kelsey pack.
Now it's their turn to go.

YP in GB

patient: how old are you?
patient: you're too young to be working here.

Monday morning I disassembled a bed, drove it to Central Sq, and assembled it in a small room on the fourth floor of a building where I now live. Young Professional in Greater Boston. I don't make enough to be a yuppie. After meeting up with Sorrel, I spent the night at my parent's place.
It snowed (again; it snowed when I interviewed for the room too)

patient (with history of assault, paranoid schizophrenia; thought I was lying about my name): I'm going to smash your head against a wall!
[a few minutes later, affect back to normal, apologized. and again, three days later when we met in the cafeteria] I'm sorry about the other day.

Tuesday I could not fall asleep terrified of taking the bus the next day. I noticed that the ceiling in the room is pretty high. I remember how the street sounds at night.

patient: how tall are you? model height?
[and] you are the nicest nurse here. What do you think I should do? Should I try to get out of here as fast as I can, or should I stay here for, like, ever?
[and, five days later] are you a model?

Friday night I read at 1am, woke up at 5:40 for work, and then, fully intending on a quite night in, found myself at Middlesex (club) with Paras (roommate) and his lady friend and not-lady friends.
I hadn't been out dancing in so long, never mind at a club, certainly a first in Cambridge. Danced with someone briefly who had a boner, saw someone basically jerking off at me, and got berated for not dancing with anyone [with him] by yet another gentleman. Ended by dancing with some tall, blond, boring looking guy, not for too long. And to top it off, two guys from my high-school were there as well - a past I do not care for. But I did dance, and I thank humanity for dancing.

patient: you are a good doctor-person. From my first day here I thought that.

Saturday I met up with Yulka at Harry's Bar & Grill. We've both moved out now, both have jobs, both assume things we shouldn't sometimes - but we drink different drinks.

patient: she has a soft angel smile and a hard glint in her eye. 


Sam's boat is in North Carolina but he came here from Germany. We got to convenience-store-land which is not in a convenient location to get to by subway. It was freezing. I was glad to see him.

patient after patient after patient: what ethnicity are you? Portuguese? Brazilian? Spanish?
best response to my reply (by one who claimed to be in love with me): I knew it was something unusual.

emerald leaves

The emerald leaves are like a latent desire. Autumn comes and the leaves fall shivering in the wind, until the trees stand naked, branches arched achingly against the sky. The trees' heart beats slow and they hold the weight of snow and break under the burden of ice and we want but know not what. And then spring comes, and first the flowers bloom, and then the leaves begin. Tentatively, limp translucent green and fuzzy curls. We say "I had forgotten that trees have leaves, but they do and Oh! Oh! that is what I wanted all along". 


partings are beginning. I swung with Amanda in a hammock one late evening before going down to the waterfall, sang at Baccalaureate yesterday, which was followed by senior dinner. Had a meeting with a clinical professor for an hour and half, hoping for words of wisdom, and attended a bonfire/bbq at the co-op. Psychology luncheon and surrealist circus.

campus is mostly empty and almost all the students left are seniors -- feels nothing like l&t. It's more or less the same group, at least by name, as the ones who entered freshman year three weeks before the rest of the school had arrived. Oh! Oh! We cannot and will not go back.

aquacities of thought and language

Senior photo exhibit I, Alex's senior opera recital, the senior dance show, Dani's senior music recital. Pill for reduction of lyme disease by 80% if taken within 72 hours of being bitten (the bite itself swollen and itching.) My shoulders have browned and freckled from the sun. The picking of a stem of apple blossoms and putting them into a glass milk bottle. Kelsey said “Brooklyn is the Bard afterlife”. Jono got a bird and it screams at the birds outside. Text from Yulka, 11:59pm 10/3/13: It's ok, understand. I took a picture of the magnolia tree behind my house, after asking Sorrel and Hannah to stand in front of it. Found out that (wood) Sorrel is what I know as заячья капуста (bunny cabbage). Text from Hannah, 5:07pm 3/25/14: Between ny and philly: bleakest train ride ever. Nj a hellscape. Valley of ashes. we were making a film but we could do more complicated things, such as overlay ourselves into previous renditions (so that there could be two of each person in a scene). And we decided that we could each interact with the previous version as we wished, without planning out everything before hand. But then a couple of us started killing us off. And I was upset: not only because we were being murdered (it only half felt like it was only in the movie we were making) but because a horror flick didn't fit my artistic version for the film. I screamed in fear and woke up silent. I need to install my AC again because it's getting hot and humid and my room is right under the roof. I can hear it when the rains, which I like. I tried smiling at someone from class but it he looked away mournfully. Emma is to come around noon and we will walk to the burrito stand. She switched majors from psychology to photography, I never did a senior project for studio art, taking a drawing III class in my final semester. Text from Sasha, 10:48pm 4/21/14: (I know but one soul this romantically damned.) I watched The Garden State (2004 USA) last night alone, and found it irritating. Some say say happiness is the absence of sadness. Farm fest was 4$ chili with bread and rice and we left the music when we came around in the evening. Mass Text from Kelsey, 10:49pm, drunk and standing right next to me 5/2/14: I love you ;) Went to the klezmer concert at Two Boots, eating mediocre pizza with Hannah and Will before going to Kelsey's room to watch ParaNorman (2012 USA). Sang the last full chamber singers concert for the masters choral conductors (Sicut cervus – Palestrina; Trois Chansons – Debussy; Spirit Seeking Light and Beauty – Stuart; Pater Noster – Stravinksy; Agnus Dei – Hassler; Rest – Vaughan Williams; There will be rest – Techeli; No. 8 Wenn so lind dein Auge mir, No.16 Ein dunkeler Schacht ist Liebe – Brahms; The last words of David – Thompson). “you can't make eye contact with half of campus” Emma said as we sat in the grass eating our burritos. This is the final truth. 

 

sum some

The last month was a whirlwind - trying to finish up senior project while attempting to pretend that I don't have that weight on my shoulders. I attended an ASO concert (Strauss - Emperor Waltz, Accelerations, The Blue Danube; Conus - Violin Concerto; Brahms - Symphony No. 2). That night I came home to Jono and Noah playing goat simulator for two hours.

All the tennis matches happened in April (I think we lost almost all of them). 4/20 at Blithewood. We celebrated birthdays - Kelsey turned 21 on the 21st. We were 21 together for a day and then I turned 22 on the 22nd. Golden birthdays. Went to the diner for Adrienne's birthday on the 28th. Eggs and potatoes and rye toast, everyone else got chocolate milkshakes.

We performed Verdi's Requiem with the ASO two nights in a row, very close to the senior project deadline. A 92 year old man had a heart attack because of the music the first night. That Saturday we sang at William Weaver's memorial service - he was the first to translate all of Umberto Eco's works and some other modern Italian literature, and seemed to have had some colorful characters in his life. 

This Wednesday I finished formatting my project and went with Adrienne & co to get it bound - three copies, one for each member of my board. We got food at the Golden Wok and then checked in around four, an hour before the deadline. Many birthing jokes ensued: 9 months for delivery. Bard t-shirts, alumni sign-up, bbq and snacks and then we went behind stone row for free beer. Ended up sipping margarita's at Santa Fe and then the Bard Orchestra concert and then saw Hannah and Jack and Will and his friend Steven. Thoroughly sleep deprived and incomprehensible, though I still fell asleep at one, unable to break the habit from the past month, waking up at 8:30 as usual and kept going. I joked that we drink not just to numb the bruises from senior project, but fill the void left behind by it.
As I was falling asleep the next day for a nap, I was swarmed by thoughts like bees buzzing bumbling bustling and realized the tunnel vision that comes with working on one thing so single mindedly, that you forget (can't afford to) think about all the other thoughts in your head, though they are still there.

And then this weekend was spring fling. Thursday night was a small gathering at the Root Cellar (incoherent singing and the cliqueness of the people who tend to go there: Sorrel Hannah and I left pretty soon after arriving). I joined Kalena the second night and danced with Kelsey (music: Deerhoof, Branchez, Giraffage, Speedy Oritz, Celestial Shore).

The third we had a pre-party with Amanda & co. and that's where most of the dancing that night happened - at the tent, it was too crowded and jumbled, the currents making it impossible to stay still and sway, one moved through the river, bumping up against rocks, coursing round in circles (music: Lil B, Slava, Silent Addy, Chi Ching Ching). We hung out in the beer garden and campus center instead, smiling broadly and talking to people we don't talk to and holding hands and hugging: Bardians are nice when drunk. I went to the waterfall where Will and Hannah and others set up a fire and that was lovely until I felt sleepy and took the 2:40 shuttle home.

and that's the last month, summarized.

look cool

Smog: I was dancing and then went outside before the next song started. Amanda and Kelsey came outside to make sure I was okay and then left again when I verified that I was fine standing under the overhang. “Do you want a cigarette to look cool while you do it?” Kelsey asked. The rain looked like snow lite by sharp light. Two guys came out too:

“I drank way too much last night. I don't angry or anything like that, but I drank too much”
“why did you drink?”
“because it feels good!”

“but not for any reason like, to avoid an emotion or anything like that?”
“no, just for relief, to let off some steam”

We danced the rest of the night, laughing and closing our eyes to the shifting rhythms.

The next night I should have stayed in. Vessels have a frequencies that make them resonate, and the music the freshman boys played that night resonated in my stomach. The Milkshack (aka EMS house) had dj sets but it was just a bit too cold outside. Some people were gone and danced like puppets jerked by children; everyone else huddled in a swarming mass around the campfire, in varied states of sobriety. Faces where invisible as soon as one shifted away from the fire light; perhaps the total anonymity was good for some but my mouth was dry and there was nowhere to dance for those like me who did not look like marionettes and I had to talk to people I haven't spoken to in a while to avoid standing aimlessly on the frigid fringe of the crowd.

A couple nights ago I had a dream Eloosha and I went swimming in a pond which still had ice floating in it, his father and others were there too. The purpose was to increase Eloosha's literary acuity, though the people standing on the bank wouldn't understand. When I woke up my feet were freezing.

Yesterday Hannah B. and I went to get Chineese fast-food. It was delicious.

four days

in cycles:

In the morning I met with Frank to talk about senior project for the last time this semester. I frantically finished up some prints. The watercolors came out too pale, the citra solv barely transferred the ink. [cycle] Rehearsal, Concert. J. S. Bach's Magnificat in D and Schubert's Mass in E-flat Major. [cycle] I bumped into Lisa from Humboldt and we talked until we had to part and say good bye. She asked me how old I am and told me “oh! You’re still young”. She’s 24 and an undergraduate student: everything is slower in Germany. We talked about how sometimes it is necessary to leave the people you know to find out who you are, and how ages 16-19 or so, everything that sparkles; sparkles more furiously than it does later. She told me to tell her if I ever go to Berlin again. [cycle] I went to play mafia with some of the exchange students. All spoke Russian and some of the names were more foreign to me that others. Familiar ones where Valya and Yura and Yuliya (AUCA) Tim (Smolny). Less familiar but still comprehensible is Albina (Tajikistan, AUCA).  I had never heard before Agerim and Akylai (Kyrgistan, AUCA). We played until 3 or so and then I went to Kelsey’s room and fell asleep by 4. [cycle] 

We woke up at 9, got breakfast and then I went to my last printmaking class. There were two bottles of wine and this is the least happy I’ve been with my art work in a while. I went home and slept. [cycle] I worked and packed and went to bed at 2am. [cycle]  

I woke up at 6 and finished packing and got picked up at 7:15, went to the train station with Agerim, and we got off at Grand Central.  I made sure to find the bus for her to get to JFK, before going my own way to Kostya’s lab at NYU. I finished my coursework there. We went wandering to get food and then we went to Bedford Stuyvesant (BedSty) where he lives. [cycle] We walked to Bushwick where Shinno’s multimedia installation was. The room looked like it used to be some industrial space, but had been redone for events. The bottom of the walls rounded off into the floor and everything was white. The show consisted of a dancer in the dark, except for a projector light. It refracted through fog, produced by a fog machine. The dancer was wearing a mask made of squares of mirror. He danced with the light, the music built up and became more frantic. It felt more like I was having some sort of subconscious experience, rather than watching something happening in front of me with a hundred other people. Esther was there too, and after the show the dj came on and we danced. The projector was still on, and it was a fun body-exploration to watch ones silhouette on the wall, a different way of entertaining ones vanity. I went to the indoor-balcony upstairs and fell asleep on the couch, which was vibrating from the bass of the music. At two Kostya and I left. [cycle] 

We went to Manhattan and I took a 5:30 bus back home. [cycle]

I’m a hero.

Friday it hailed and rained and snowed. There was a play-festival going on with six plays, with each night showing three of them, so I saw three short plays.

Saturday I went to the senior dance show and then a party at Megan’s house: my first ever Christmas party, oddly enough.

Sunday I went to the first of three in the second set of plays, because someone at the party said it was the only one of that set worth seeing

Monday the president of Ghana, Mahama, came to speak so I skipped class and went to that instead. Security came a week in advance to make sure it was safe, and then Mahama right after to go to the funeral.  Literally the only thing he did on this continent during that trip was talk at my college, in part because when Mahama said he was going to do it Chinua Achebe was still alive and it was Achebe's conference.

Tuesday was normal, except that our rehearsal for chamber singers was later and longer than usual. I think I shoveled the driveway angrily because I had slipped on the ice and hurt my wrist earlier in the week.

Wednesday I had my midway board for senior project. I had braced myself: “they are going to tell me I have to do a lot of work and that I need to be more efficient and that it’s severely lacking”. But they said it was great, suggested some things to make the transition from the mechanics of the eye to the more attention-based parts. Twenty minutes later I had an exam and then printmaking hw and then I went to the Bard Orchestra concert because Hannah and Leila are in it.

Thursday evening I went to Lucas’s senior show (he drums) and then signed up for classes.

And today, Friday, I went to This Bardian Life at the Root Cellar and took photos. There was music but I left halfway through the first set.

one week left

Halloween 4/4

Hannah and I have been going to the Red Hook farmers
market and having Saturday brunch.

We went to a party in Tivoli because we  
heard that live music was going to be playing. I dressed up as a fox with the sign “what do I say?”. We jumped up and down to the music and I kept going up the stairs, to the porch, down the stairs to the back steps and back around to keep things spinning and spinning. Up and two drags, down and shitty warm beer, the back entrance and a hello, and around back to the dance. A couple times someone came up to me and said “you say mew!” (no) and the band switched. The girl who had been a unicorn was now Frida Colo and eventually the police came to break it up and the swarms of us trickled away. I slept over at Amanda’s place and we went to Murry’s the next morning; the drummer from one of the bands did too.
The next weekend I only went to the ISO show for 20 minutes and did work the rest of the time. Ha.