Hipsters Gone Wild

Two weekends ago, I walk-jog-scurried to my apartment building at 3:45am to find a disheveled damsel asking me to let her in because she had "just been attacked."

A white male wearing a white fedora with a black stripe had thrown her to the sidewalk and tried to snatch her purse.

You know times are hard when hipsters have stopped being ironic and started giving in to their baser needs. Now where can I get some pepper spray?

Tired and Feathered

Yowzers!

I recently moved, and for the first time in all the many times I've lived in NYC, I must furnish my living space from scratch.

It's been a struggle, to say the least. Furniture is expensive, so I definitely can't buy it all at once, and locating furniture and other home furnishings that are at once space-appropriate and consistent with my aesthetic goals compounds the difficulte. Not to mention the financial and physical challenge of hauling something to my apartment or being home Monday-Friday during the day to accept a delivery.

Aside: why do furniture stores for Manhattanites even sell full-sized couches and dining tables? Surely
# of shoebox apartments > # of properly proportioned apartments here, non?

Aaanyway, to add more financial insult to financial injury and more hassle to hassle, my existing possessions are deteriorating rapidly (see earlier post entitled "10-year replacement cycle"). Case in point: my down comforter. I woke up one chilly November morning to find my bed and person covered in loose feathers. Covered! Tarred and feathered, minus the tar. It was as if a gaggle of girls had taken over my bedroom under the cover of night and thrown the archetypal slumber party. I wonder how many secrets got whispered behind hands and into ears that night. I hope it was a lot, and I hope they were juicy because otherwise I'm suffering for nought.

Oh my god. It was such an utter desastre in my apartment and covered me so completely from head to toe in feathers that I had two, count 'em TWO strangers who saw me that morning inquire as to what on earth happened to me.

Ugh. Fortunately, today, I finally purchased a new comforter. Now, if I could just get my hands on a decent broom.

lossed

I'm all lost again, and I was unable to take any action in light thereof, so I gave myself a deadline of the end of March to gain clarity & take action (about 4 weeks). Then, with about 1 week left, I gave myself a 1-week extension to April 6th. Given the impending deadline, I need to spend some focused time contemplating myself and my future self this weekend.

--

So I am organizing these three quotes/maxims in one place to keep me from losing further sight of things:

1. It doesn't matter where you are but what you're doing.
2. On moving: wherever you go, there you are. You have to be the panacea you wish to see in the world.
3. Bloom where you're planted.

The first two are courtesy of The Wise Messr. Alexander. The bloom notion is courtesy of Joel Osteen in Your Best Life Now discussing god (apparently), but widely applicable, I think.

The bloom notion elaborated:

I was walking in the woods one day when I came to a big, open field that was full of tall weeds. Everywhere I looked, all I could see were ugly, brown, dried-up weeds. But when I went a little farther down the path, I noticed one beautiful flower standing in the midst of all the weeds. It was so colorful, so vivid and, amazingly, it had blossomed right there in the midst of those drab, dreary weeds. You may live or work around a bunch of weeds, but don't let that stop you from blooming. Realize that your environment does not prevent you from being happy. Some people spend all their time trying to pull up all the weeds. Meanwhile, they miss much of their lives.

On Creativity & Independence

Since graduating from graduate school in May, I feel I have finally been released into the wild with as close to a clue as I'll ever get. (NB - I don't think anyone ever has a full clue, so to strive for that is ridiculous and to wait for the dawning of that day is foolhardy. Go full speed with what you know at the time, and then adjust accordingly when you learn otherwise.)
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My graduate degree is in a highly conservative field that follows a structured, rigid path in everything it does. In addition, I had the good fortune of going to a graduate school with a student population unlike anything I would ever voluntarily associate myself with (15 years behind in awareness, unapologetically ignorant, the like). The whole endeavor was a culture shock for me and a significant learning experience. Don't get me wrong--I was miserable and had wholesale hate for 98% of my classmates, and even now, I only half-like the 2% I consider to be my friends, but I appreciate the experience for what it taught me. To wit: that I am different from most people in that I am more creative and more thoughtful than most people.
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Now, I knew these things about myself from the bottom of my heart already, but my bland graduate schooling was just the foil to my being that I needed. Really, what it did was give me the swift kick in the butt that I needed to finally embrace myself and my true nature.
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With a clearer vision of myself, who I am, what I want, my modus operandi, etc., I have been able to define more fully the meaning of the word "creativity" for my personal dictionary.
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Creativity is more than, for example, skill at aesthetics. Is the neighborhood hairdresser with an eye for flattering hairstyles creative? I venture to say no, though I do recognize and appreciate her good eye. Full-on creativity seeps into all facets of life, resulting in a complete liberation of the mind. A free mind constrained not by the infrastructure of daily life--that is what marks the truly creative.
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I think I have a good working definition for two reasons: 1) it bespeaks of a certain independence from society, people, and one's own self, which is key, if not the key to creative thought and 2) it allows for the location of creative individuals any and everywhere--all too often, I think people operate on a narrow definition of creativity that pretty much isolates the identification of creative people to those who work in creative industries. This is a prime example of constrained thinking. A drone is a drone is a drone, even if that drone spends his days dESiGniNg tHe LoOK oF fOoD on a plate to be photographed for a menu.
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Extrapolation
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The truly creative exist in constant conflict with the rest of society. With liberated minds, these individuals are able to see more potential in every aspect of life. And with that heightened vision comes complications, e.g.,: (1) more choices, which can be paralyzing; (2) dissonance between what they see and what society sees, what they want and what society wants; and (3) a seeming inability to meet societal expectations.
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A few steps may be taken to avoid these complications. For now, I can think of three to share:
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• active resistance. you have to resist the crushing structure of living the way that most people are living or else you will be unhappy. doing this requires ignoring most people (see below), including any friends and loved ones who do not have the same creative capacity that you do (why you're even friends with them is another post), for they will not understand, and someone, either you or they, will feel alienated. note: it will be harmful if you're the one that feels alienated.




• intentional communities. not necessarily a hippie commune, but efforts to surround yourself with other people whose ideas, though not necessarily similar to yours, also fly as high as kites will reduce the discomfort of existence in society




• try not to get caught in a wheel of society. this is a bit tangential, but still important and related to the above. endeavor to make lifestyle choices that don't carry the potential of coming back and biting you in the butt because then you might have to succumb to a fold that is disharmonious with who you are. e.g., getting a new car might bind you to working a disharmonious job so you can pay for it, having a child might force a certain stability out of you that you don't have to give (& is therefore disharmonious).

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The "cartoons drawn on the back of business cards" guy Hugh MacLeod inspired me to write this after just a cursory look at this posting of his on creativity + authenticity, which i found while googling how to start my own business: http://www.gapingvoid.com/Moveable_Type/archives/000932.html
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If a cursory look could inspire me, what could reading the whole thing do? I read it, and it has sublime insights. It's like he took my jumbled thoughts, added eloquence and profound thinking, diced, seasoned, marinated, ate, and digested them 10 years ago and now there's a green sprig that has sprouted in the fertilizer, and he's talking about how it got there. The introductory how-to list on being creative is compelling--the post, of which a pdf is also available, elaborates on it. For your convenience and pleasure, here is the list:
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1. Ignore everybody.
2. The idea doesn't have to be big. It just has to be yours.
3. Put the hours in.
4. If your biz plan depends on you suddenly being "discovered" by some big shot, your plan will probably fail.
5. You are responsible for your own experience.
6. Everyone is born creative; everyone is given a box of crayons in kindergarten.
7. Keep your day job.
8. Companies that squelch creativity can no longer compete with companies that champion creativity.
9. Everybody has their own private Mount Everest they were put on this earth to climb.
10. The more talented somebody is, the less they need the props.
11. Don't try to stand out from the crowd; avoid crowds altogether. 12. If you accept the pain, it cannot hurt you.
13. Never compare your inside with somebody else's outside.
14. Dying young is overrated.
15. The most important thing a creative person can learn professionally is where to draw the red line that separates what you are willing to do, and what you are not.
16. The world is changing.
17. Merit can be bought. Passion can't.
18. Avoid the Watercooler Gang.
19. Sing in your own voice.
20. The choice of media is irrelevant.
21. Selling out is harder than it looks.
22. Nobody cares. Do it for yourself.
23. Worrying about "Commercial vs. Artistic" is a complete waste of time.
24. Don't worry about finding inspiration. It comes eventually.
25. You have to find your own schtick.
26. Write from the heart.
27. The best way to get approval is not to need it.
28. Power is never given. Power is taken.
29. Whatever choice you make, The Devil gets his due eventually.
30. The hardest part of being creative is getting used to it.
31. Remain frugal.
32. Allow your work to age with you.
33. Being Poor Sucks.
34. Beware of turning hobbies into jobs.
35. Savor obscurity while it lasts.
36. Start blogging.

no more delays

i've been giving much thought to my future (what's left of it, egads) and have come to the conclusion that i need to stop delaying what i expect my life to be. if i expect it to be X, then it should be X right now, not later, when A, B, & C happen and Y finally falls into place. make it X now.

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in consequence, i've been mulling over some major life decisions of late. my conclusions are still incomplete, but the most valuable aspect of my racing mind is the sensation that i need to come to grips with the reality of my life as i never have before. this is my life. i can't keep wishing or waiting for it to be something else--it is what it is. and if it is not what i've been waiting for it to be, then i need to stop waiting. i need to make it what i wish it to be right here and now.

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* * *

--

i am many things at heart, one of which is a yuppie, through and through. on valentine's day, the new york times ran an article about the eyesore that a house becomes once children enter the scene (read the article, "Parent Shock: Children Are Not Décor," here).

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it may be that everything i read these days lights a fire under my ass, but this article lit an atomic bomb. it resonated with a lot of my recent thinkings. in sum, it interviews 3+ couples who had just gotten to a place in their lives when they could get their house interiors the way they wanted, and then they had children and the decor went to hell (ugly children's toys, begrudging safety precautions, etc.).

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i'm 28, and though i have great interest in interior design, i have thus far delayed having a home of any permanence or aesthetic accomplishment due to what i have perceived as my transitory life. granted, i've lived a more transitory life than many others, but shouldn't i breathe fullness into each step i take? if i keep postponing the transformation of a living space into the coveted paradise i fantasize about in my head, then i may never get around to having that paradise.

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corollary - am i:

1. who i strive to be
2. who i am on occasion
3. who i am usually or
4. who i end up being through inadvertance?

likewise, if i keep postponing the proper routine of domesticity that i want to have, then i will never have such a routine, and i will never be the person i want to be (e.g., i'm not martha stewart until i act like martha stewart).

--

* * *

--

i've focused this discussion on interior design, but the thought process i'm teasing apart is applicable to all facets of my life. distilled down, it amounts to two maxims:

1. don't delay
2. be what i want to be & live the life i want to live right here and now

i'm eustressed and distressed with these revelations. i feel i'm seeing things with a clarity that is unprecedented. and for the first time in my life, i know that i'm on the brink of something good.

fyi

and my doormen can go to hell, too.

fyi

i also kind of want to shove my roommate.

friends of friends

my roommate, whom i enjoy, has friends who don't always acknowledge my physical existence when they enter the apartment. even if they have to pass right by my person in our narrow hallway, and even if i look right at them with a friendly expression, and even if i move my dog/random arts+crafts crap out of their way while uttering an apology. it is very strange, tres impoli, and utterly inexplicable, as far as my mind can think.

one might postulate that my roommate talks the doodoo about me to her friends, and in their loyalty to her, they wish to snub me. but my roommate and i are amicable and friendly, so what's the proverbial dealio?

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a) immaturity

b) awkwardness in social skills

c) rudeness incarnate

d) a higher level of social evolution

e) it's not them it's me

--

i am inclined to 86 b) and e). b) is out because these are entirely normal, socially mainstream, typically adjusted individuals. e) is out because i radiate pure approachable friendliness to these folks (none of my friends would recognize me!).

Ice Cube's a Pimp

Today was a good day.

And my roommate thought so to! She left this surprise congratulations bouquet for me on my desk when I got home.

Day 3

my roommate is in portugal for 8 days. having the place to myself for an extended period of time excited me.

--

DAY 1: walked into the apartment after work and stripped my clothes off right in the living room. left some dishes on the coffee table and kitchen counter.

DAY 2: hogged all the bathroom surfaces, walked around naked.

DAY 3: oppressive loneliness sets in. it would appear that accumulated hours upon hours of non-human interactions have got me down. this city and my current routine probably serve to magnify these feelings.

--

the affect of a roommate is now apparent and fully appreciated.

Inside Job

The bad thing about moving in with a stranger who works in the same industry is that your early interactions can feel like an extended job interview. Home is where you're supposed to be able to let your guard down. I want a home and a job, but if forgetting to buy more dish detergent is going to jeopardize my career, I think I'd rather be homeless. What I'd pay to take a warp zone past this phase and get right to the point where my roommate adores me and we know we'll part ways as BFFs.

OPT

Living with others necessarily entails looking at other people's things (you down wit OPT?). Just having to look at this every time I go to the sink makes me think twice about living with others.

What you are looking at is a pair of pink rubber gloves with a large diamonoid glued to the left ring finger. Not pictured are the cuffs, which are even more horrifying.

To Do

Last night was my first night alone in my new apartment. I've often felt lonely in NYC, and so it was familiar and almost comforting to be here and lonely yesterday.

1) go to West Elm store in Chelsea to try to buy a bed

2) figure out a temporary lighting solution

3) unpack work clothes

4) (buy iron if necessary)

5) put boxes into categories

6) go to Ikea this weekend to purchase more permanent lighting solution

Since I couldn't sleep last night, I devoured some recent Trader Joe's acquisitions and did a little bit of unpacking of kitchen-related items. I haven't gotten out of bed yet this morning to see my nocturnal handiwork, but I actually think it might now look even worse than pictured.

I'm going to have to figure out what to do with my precious cast iron pots/pans and other valuable kitchenery--is it indeed time to live alone?