it’s been two months. i apologize for my absence. everything has been ending and nothing seems to be starting back up again. i haven’t been doing much of anything, really. graduating, yes, and celebrating, certainly, but the melancholy is inescapable and breeds a sense of malaise. i’ve been waking up later than i want to. i’ve been puttering. it’s really hard to say goodbye, and other things that feel obvious when you say them out loud, but are much harder to confront in the moment.
in assessing the end of things, i find myself looking at the past 3.5 years of my life through the lens of college radio. yes, it is silly, i know, but wcwm gave me an outlet to just exist, to be, for at least one hour every week. before my last ever show, i sat down to write a list of things i wanted to say before i said goodbye, but my pen kept jamming, ink catching in the fabric of the paper. instead, i went in with only a playlist. a playlist and memories, too many to count. the last episode is recorded. i’ve linked it below. if you didn’t listen in the moment, you can hear it, now and forever, at the link below, but know it will not be the same. never again the same, like the poem by james tate, in which he writes, of witnessing the final moments of a beautiful sunset, “as if our whole lives were a preparation for this / this for which nothing could have prepared us / and for which we could not have been less prepared.”
reading
my good friend abby, who writes on the substack blog ‘pretty things,’ recently posted a blog entitled ‘homecoming.’ in it, she writes:
“It could have been the beginning of endings that didn’t quite feel real, or perhaps seeing the people around me more clearly than usual. I used to have a difficult time articulating my feelings, actually physically saying them out loud, but recently I found myself in situations looking people in the face and repeatedly telling them how much they mean to me, staring at their face begging my mind to remember that moment in the future.
i understand where she is coming from, because i was there. weren’t you? weren’t we all? in my backyard, the sun bearing down, and i looked at john and abby, and i wondered if my words would ever be enough to make someone else feel anything at all. there is a poem of the same name as abby’s piece, by the poet rodney jones. he wrote:
Here are some verbs: woke, saw, stretched, heard, washed, smelled, sat, blessed, ate, listened, rose, waited, walked, felt, shat, dug, meditated, buried, gone
though somewhere, perhaps by some odd fractal of the principle of the
conservation of matter, a remnant of the original template holds.Home odor, unreconstructed, peasant, third world—
“Nostalgia for the infinite,” the nearly forgotten Bob Watson called it.Maybe it’s just like that. Maybe it’s exactly what they say
after years to the old when they were children.
i also re-read the secret history, again, out of some perverse desire to preserve nostalgia in amber. tartt’s prose is, as always, masterful. i don’t know why i always go back to this specific book when i’m struggling to find the words that i need. nonetheless, it’s there. paradise rot by jenny hval was purchased on an impromptu trip to shelf life in richmond, virginia. it was the second book i’ve read recently. i felt weird, unsteady, after reading it. i recommend!
i’m 12 books behind schedule on my 2024 goodreads goal. tell me what to read, tell me how to see the world because my glasses keep fogging up whenever i leave my house, tell me how i’m supposed to feel about it all ending because it feels like it’s never going to stop.
sounds
every single song i’ve ever played on wcwm, mostly. 75 hours. over 1200 songs. none of the words i said.
farewell, transmission by songs: ohia. “real truth about it is / no one gets it right / real truth about it is / we're all supposed to try.”
i really like the new mk.gee album, also! it’s quite good and it sounds a lot like dijon, which is to be expected.
sights
i’ve been off my movie-watching grind, once again! who is surprised?
i did watch challengers (2024, dir. luca guadagnino) and enjoyed it quite a bit. the directing is interesting, the script is fascinating and taut, and the score is absolutely incredible. that being said, i still don’t know if i’m entirely sold on zendaya’s acting — it always feels rather stiff and uncomfortable, and not in a way that necessarily feels intentional.
one night, because i needed to edit photos, i put on something mindless — that is, unfrosted (2024, dir. jerry seinfeld). it kinda sucked, but not because of woke — mostly, because it’s a movie about pop tarts.
i also finished two (2!!!!) tv shows in the past week. both how to with john wilson and the jerrod carmichael reality show are fantastic and weird and deeply upsetting, and they’re both on hbo, so definitely worth a stream if you have the time during these unbearably hot summer months.
my portfolio is updated with my new photography work. i am very proud of the medium format work i’ve been able to produce this semester, and so grateful for the people who were willing to ‘model’ for me. i will have more scans soon — griffin editions, please email me back — but until then, enjoy! if you are interested in acquiring a print of any of these images, please let me know and i will mail it to you. it could be the beginning of a pen pal relationship, who knows?
smells
i bought a full size of warm bulb. no one is surprised. it’s the best perfume ever. also, our front yard smells like flowers. i will miss this ramshackle ranch. farewell, transmission, and all that.
thoughts
everything is changing, damn it! everything is changing and no one is okay and i’m very afraid. the next time i write to you, i will be in new york. yes, i’m moving to new york, and, yes, i’m probably going to live in bushwick. the fear paralyzes me, makes it impossible to do or say anything. there are texts i haven’t responded to, emails i haven’t read, people i can’t bear to say goodbye to. please stay in touch. i’ll be here. do write. i miss you all. thank you.
one more thing.
love,
van
