The Musings of a Midwest Creative #2
Thoughts I had when I was forced to procrastinate
It’s 7:31 p.m. on a Tuesday night and the transcription service I use for interviews is down.
I need it to work on a magazine piece that I wasn’t excited about until I was. I’m learning that’s the beauty of writing, the high I didn’t know I was chasing—pulling a thread of a thought until it untangles into something luminous. This piece became something different than what I was expecting.
The last year or so of writing has shown me that I am something different than I was expecting, too.
Some musings from the past week:
The hosts of one of my favorite podcasts went on a small tangent about Spotify and content and the way everything feels commercialized and algorithmized and forced down our throats. His complaint was that Spotify was continuing to feed him the same artist over and over. It got me thinking about the ways our problems start externally and then slowly become self-inflicted. In the fight against the algorithms, I think we forget that we have some agency here, albeit often a small amount. If Spotify is feeding you the same music, search for something different. If Instagram models make you feel bad about yourself, block them. I personally don’t see hardly any alt-right, Nazi garbage on my Twitter timeline because I have muted and blocked to hell those perpetrators (I have all versions of Elon Musk’s name muted). We have to take some initiative if we’re this frustrated by the technology that surrounds us.
I’ve been on such a fiction kick this year, which is not normal for me. I’ve been heavily into memoir and essay the last few years. I’m reading Sally Rooney’s Beautiful World, Where Are You, despite having not read her more famous novels. I haven’t formed my opinion yet, but there was a piece of dialogue between the two main characters that was so revealing of their relationship that i had to reread it for a good five minutes.
People kept comparing the current presidential election to the HBO Show Veep, so I decided to start it. I’m obsessed. We used to make comedies. I want Tony Hale in every television show ever.
I started scrapbooking and I’m falling in love. I took two disposable cameras with me to camp this year knowing I was going to make a scrapbook. I want to continue the tradition each year and make a scrapbook for each cabin. It’s a testament to how deeply meaningful each year is. It’s also a joy to create something wholly for myself. I’m practicing lettering and actually improving and the journey has just been so fun.
The Cut published essay (that I won’t be reading and absolutely won’t be linking to) about a woman’s abuse of her pet cat after she has a baby. I’ve read some tweets from people who have read the article, and it’s horrendous. The Cut is known for it’s shocking personal essays. At some point, I think they have an ethical responsibility to tell writers that not all essays should be published (and also report this woman to the authorities for animal abuse).
My dearly beloved cat, Rosie, taking a sunshine nap as a palate cleanser I’m still thinking about b. Robert Moore’s “In Loving Memory,” which I wrote about last month. He posted about one of the pieces on Instagram today. It was a replica of his grandmother’s living room. It included a rotary phone that played a voicemail from his grandfather, in which he tells Robert how proud of he is of him. It instantly reminded me of my own grandpa, whose death anniversary we just celebrated last week. I miss him deeply in the same way I could feel Robert missing his own. I’ve never connected so personally and viscerally with a piece of art like I did in that moment.
Halsey paid tribute to Britney Spears with her new song “Lucky,” which samples Britney’s song of the same name. I have it on repeat. It’s not especially “good” per se, but as Britney’s biggest fan in 2001 it’s giving me all of the early aughts feels.
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