A girl’s doll is herself,
— Rae Armantrout, from Next Life: ‘Distances’
February felt like a month for reflections— objects, worries, stories, details. All seemed to mirror back at me. I tried to move through the month collecting what I could of these thoughts, these small obsessions.
Some months pass in a rush, I suppose February did in a way. This February felt so early and so late. It was only the second month, yet it felt as though so much had happened.
Here is what has stayed with me.
from the writer’s desk:
finished the initial plotting for the novel I’ve had in mind recently
established the setting for the story and the characters
the writer’s tools:
lately I’ve been enjoying using the Pilot Frixion Ball Erasable Gel Pen in black ink and the Muji Gel 0.5 in black ink
I’ve been using a lined Moleskine to journal and a blank Paperblanks pocket sized to write novel ideas in
I am also using a Muji horizontal weekly planner for work
in the salon, inspiration:
Is a pearl a jewel or a talisman?
To wear pearls is to wear time itself, to wear the rush of the sea, to wear the passing of life— the grit of compounds held together, agitated by the intrusions of life, forming an iridescent beauty.
Luminous shells containing luminous cores. No need for chiseling, they emerge whole from the depths of life contained in the depths of Earth.
Perle, plesaunte to prynces paye. Grief and divinity intertwine in the medieval Pearl Manuscript. A quest for a pearl, a single lost pearl— the embodiment of unreachable paradise.
I think this is the right time to link to this playlist I found late in February that is a nice accompaniment to journalling on a Sunday.
The Book of Mirdad (1948) by Mikhail Naimi
I had found out about The Book of Mirdad last year but had not really gotten into reading it until this year. The Book of Mirdad, so far at least, has an eerie stillness and the feeling that the further you get into the story the further in you will seep into the message.
The main story centres around Mirdad, a cryptic messianic figure who comes to lead an isolated monastery on a mountain top. He speaks, of course, in riddled revelations. The story explores the illusions of dualities and the dissolution of separateness as the goal. The plot of the book moves onwards and inwards.
All things move in a circle. A circle is the birth and death of all things.
Reading this book feels like sitting outside into an equally quiet, crumbling monastery in your mind, trying to peek over the walls and catch the words of the mumbling monks inside.
office hours:
To help with stimulating my productivity with work tasks, I have tried to use jazz playlists to distract my mind. I find that worrying about deadlines can spiral and cause a paralysis. Feeling like nothing else exists but myself and my work has helped, but that is so foreign to my way of exisiting in the world— everything is too much with me all the time.
I found a Youtube channel that seems to have helped. They have relatively smooth jazz played over some soft work sounds (typing, papers, etc) with clips from different movies and shows. I have been enjoying this SATC one:
the wardrobe:
Wardrobes are a kind of personal archive, a way of collecting selves. I’ve never been able to have just one kind of style— for me, everything changes all the time, depending on how I’m feeling, what I’m reading or watching, what I want to be at that time. Lately, I’ve been drawn to two opposing looks, both effortless I think and don’t take too much to think about.
The first, I think, looks more intentional, although it really doesn’t take much fussing and is great for when I want to feel like I still have control:
Blue jeans
Red Mary Janes
A leather belt
90s sunglasses
It feels like something timeless and like you’re the sort of girl who has a planner and a paperback with her at all times. The red shoes are the punctuation mark and are an easy elevation.
The second look is looser, with emphasis on this looseness by wearing items 1-2 sizes too big.
Cargo pants
Oversized T-shirt
A cap
Adidas gazelles
This look I think belongs to movement, to getting out and about unnoticed while feeling comfortable. It asks for no adjustment, no attention to slipping straps, no second thoughts.
reflections:
Looking back at February, I’m reminded of how little things have the power to shape the spaces we choose to inhabit. Trying to avoid things that bring comfort and enjoyment might seem like a good idea sometimes to boost productivity, but I find that despite being drawn to the thought that deprivation could help me, it almost never does.
For March, attention to detail, enjoyment and mindfulness, I think will help with returning to the enjoyment of early February.
Here’s to holding on to what resonates, no matter how small, and letting it weave its way into the next month’s story.
This has been remarkably beautiful, i feel thoroughly moved and inspirated as well, thank you for sharing a slice of your life💚