Author’s note: During the start of the pandemic and the first lockdown, all my devices had conveniently broken and I spent April and May entirely off grid reading, cooking, and journalling. I eventually tore the pages out of that journal, but I kept the pages stored safely and 3 years later reading back I find them an interesting tour of my mental state then. But as I remain stuck in Surburbia for a bit longer this summer, I can’t help but feel some relived sentiment about this time and wanted to collect an appended version of those journal notes here, along with one entry 1 year and 1 week after my last lockdown entry for contrast. I’m reproducing the entries verbatim sans a few retractions, so please excuse the pretension and the poor writing. I was unwell and coping.
APRIL 23, 2020
Peace of mind continues to elude me in the midst of lockdown. I do not know what company I desire but it is not this.
[…]
But as [SH] remains busy, I think I must turn to this journal to be my confidante, a voice to match my own. To be fair, there are plenty of people I can talk to but sometimes one doesn’t seek validation through conversation so much as one desires that simple peaceful co-existence alongside a likeminded individual.
[…]
Perhaps what I need is opportunity, energy, and the future. I talked to [SA] about this; how for once in my life I feel I am not burdened by nostalgia, yet I am dragged away from presence because of my idyllic visions of what the future entails.
[…]
But maybe it is not even the future I desire as it is some ideal, some semblance of that I aspire to.
[…]
C. Thi Nguyen tweeted this poem by the Japanese poet Basho today:
Even in Kyoto
Hearing the cuckoo’s cry
I long for Kyoto.
That bit of distinction between Kyoto the place and Kyoto the idea speaks heavily […] I don’t believe it to be an inherently bad thing to view everything through an idyllic lens […] but we must remain cognizant that we are idealizing the world.
And so, here I lay, writing aside the window […] peering beyond chimney stacks and slate roofs to see an iridescent glow above the ocean and hills nestled in the horizon, and all I yearn for is the Edinburgh I have come to known these past few years, the people, shops, classes, the meals and dances, the jokes and stories, the Edinburgh of my idyll idle eyes, out of reach.
[…]
The clapping has begun. Every Thursday evening at 8pm, the residents of the UK clap for the NHS – the National Health Service. It is a lovely sense of camaraderie and solidarity for those forcibly martyred on the frontlines of this medical race.
APRIL 24, 2020
I cannot get thoughts of poetry out of my head. I do not know what it is and I feel that to be a great barrier in my appreciation and understanding of it. My most recent hypothesis/opinion on the matter is such:
Poetry is art in the medium of words.
Which means it is the same as or, to phrase it better, mirrors artistic schools, traditions, movements, etc.
[…]
But the take on contemporary work remains the same-ish: I do not fancy the contemporary prose of poetry nor literature. It feels… deadened. This is a vast generalization, but there is truth to it. The modern vernacular does not fit well to page.
[…]
I should also order some art supplies, and maybe begin filling these pages up with some, although the lines may interfere. That is the issue: lined journals interfere with art, unlined are difficult to write in, and bullet journals are too painstakingly constructed for both my patience and tastes.
[…]
I have not yet watched a film, but I made hummus. I will deliver some to [MO] tomorrow, some to [MA] on Saturday, and [FI], [AR], and [AS] on Monday.
[…]
I also feel like I don’t know how to appreciate or understand art anymore.
[…]
And perhaps it is still that I am incapable, maybe momentarily, maybe forever, of understanding and appreciating great art. Maybe it is too far out of my reach or…
Perhaps it doesn’t matter. Does it?
[…]
[Address], behind the Starbucks.
I am off to deliver hummus to [MO]
[…]
When I arrived home, I found that my books had arrived from Lighthouse Books – I gave the LATHE OF HEAVEN to [MO] to read.
I now had THE SECRET COMMONWEALTH and Hisham Matar’s A MONTH IN SIENA. Matar’s writing is the deeply reflective thoughtful, and vibrant writing I love. Already, 3 short chapters in, he’s messed with my thoughts.
Conversation – this is primarily what Matar illustrates so well about art, place, and people. […] I often think of my thoughts as a conversation partner, but Matar takes this further, describing conversations with architecture, streets, places, and of course, art. […] I must begin learning to converse with everything else in my life.
Intuition of art – Matar’s detailing his thoughts about art fascinates me: good art has its intuitive value. […] and while context helps immensely with appreciation, we can also find great value in our takes on things from a first encounter scenario, the dip of words, the flourish of brush, the vibrancy of screen.
APRIL 27, 2020
I feel some immense sense of… tranquility? No that’s not right, it’s an unsettling sort of feeling. I don’t think I’ve ever spent so much time in my room or felt so painfully mortal and existingly only right now right in this moment.
It’s like my mind is being anchored in place for once, into this feeling of presence, guarded by literature. I’m finding it peaceful to the point that I wish I was completely and utterly alone, without the responsibility of all that yet I’m not sure. I tire of writing.
[…]
I just finished OKJA directed by Bong Joon Ho. […] It leaves me with 3 (2.5?) thoughts:
- How do we value cinema? […] OKJA is beautifully shot and every bit carries poise. But it also doesn’t have the same storytelling force PARASITE did nor its subtlety.
- The necessity for veganism […] Bong himself seems to signal two issues. The first is that capitalism makes moral purity an impossibility […] The second is he seems to challenge what entities ought to be protected, as we see Mija and Heeboo eat chicken and fish.
- Moral liberty […] There seems to be this sense of greater moral responsibility that correlates with personal liberty. It is because we can choose to eat or not eat animals that we must make this just choice.
APRIL 30, 2020
You know that rainbow purple sheen, like in fresh oysters? That’s what the horizon looks like right now, at 5am.
I’m about to sleep but some thoughts
- Learn Art History
- Repair laptop?
- Raspberry Pi (Smart Mirror?)
- Music Theory
- English Lit (Pynchon and Joyce)
MAY 2, 2020
I’m slightly tipsy because as it turns out, I can tolerate bourbon pretty well.
[…]
I am living in the kitchen right now. Roasting chickens, making pan sauces and stocks.
I feel quite small!
My dreams are more vivid these days and I cannot decide whether I am allured or avoiding them.
MAY 4, 2020
It’s the small moments that make you feel so completely alone. I don’t know at what point I’ll be rereading this, or even if it is me who is reading, so I’ll just describe the room. I’ve pushed the bed into the alcove at an angle, two large cushions I’m using as pillows by the right side of the window and a pile of books on the left side of my bed.
The view outside is mostly dark, but illuminated with that allure of nighttime. The moon has retreated behind the clouds and it is drizzling ever so lightly and my god it is so beautiful I want to cry.
Indeed, it is is a world of monotone clarity and I finally understand the decision to keep things in black and white. It is not the color that is the focus but the starkness.
I went for a run at 1am […] It took everything out of me but I feel exhilarated and ready to get back out there.
Today is [PA]’s birthday and I am very happy.
[…]
I think these romantic moods of mine do deserve names and recognition. It is consistent to me. It is this incredible sense of awareness.
[…]
Some quotes
- “Love this to which though returnst”
– Marcus Aurelius - “Only love and art can do this: only inside a book or in front of a painting can one truly be let into another’s perspective.”
– Hisham Matar
There is no doubt this sense of romanticism ties in deeply with art for me. I must take a break, Matar’s writing takes a lot out of me. It is devastatingly beautiful, poignant and rich.
I think I need more solitary time at night, it seems only away from screen, persons, and all other life, can I attune in to this romantic sense.
I’ve been reading and writing by candlelight and it is quite relaxing. When I hold it, my hands become illuminated in its gaze and the soft glow from the flame dances and gives life to the pages.
And now, once I have blown it out, we return to the chromoscale world of mystery.
[…]
I need to practice drawing again, maybe.
[…]
We watched A NEW HOPE today, which was… sort of very bad.
MAY 6, 2020
I am in quite a depression right now.
[…]
Last night I couldn’t sleep and found myself dozing on the couch at 7am. And here we are again today.
I feel so so alone. It feels like I’m nobody’s top priority and my god does that hurt.
It’s grandma’s birthday today and I so dearly wish I had more to say to her, but I struggle with Mandarin.
[…]
Feel like no one cares about me, feel like a burden on everyone, feel like a massive disappointment.
[…]
I awoke at 5pm. I had fallen asleep under the warm and tender caress of sunlight, sleeping aside my copy of A WIZARD OF EARTHSEA that I had been reading. And just now, I have finished it.
I certainly feel more peaceful right now, but still am loathe to return inside, as I believe I desperately need alone time. So I will sit out here awhile longer and write about Ged.
Le Guin is just such an amazing storyteller. It feels as if she has lived in Earthsea for millenia and has written down one story of the thousands she knows. The idea of names and wizardry fascinates me, I wonder how much can be related back to life.
I think, a wizard is much like a philosopher – discovering the true names of things and how they ought work, and that pleases me a great deal.
My hand hurts and I tire.
MAY 7, 2020
I’ve just finished Matar’s A MONTH IN SIENA. Much like the author’s days in Siena, it is an eclectic mix of meandering, introspection, questioning, sometimes even without answers.
It has instantly become one of my favorite books.
Upon initial reflection, here are things the book has inspired:
- Engage more deeply in conversation with all things and people
- Treat all with familiarity and authenticity
- Meander
The sun rises so early these days, and only in the morning does it shine through my window. Indeed, I fell asleep to it yesterday, but today I am merely enjoying the warmth, which fills me with such peace.
These days of non-structure have done wonders for my mindset and soul, yet even the prospect of my few arranged meetings, such as with [KE], [SH], and the book club fill me with dread. That same feeling extends to people: I do not want to speak to [SA], [PA], anyone right now. I want to be alone with my thoughts.
[…]
I feel so peaceful. I’m lying in bed, window open, bathed by the warmth of the sun. The only noises are my own exhalations and the birdsong outside. As far as I know, everything in the world has paused for me.
[…]
I have rarely felt more alive. I am reveling in the wiggling of my toes, enamored by the feel of paper and the coolness of my sheets. I could stay here an eternity.
[…]
I continue to be drowsy.
I saw [PA] for a bit today and still I feel uncomfortable in the presence of people. I do not know what the future entails but for the moment I like this soft presence.
MAY 8, 2020
Two pigeons have found my windowsill this morning.
I feel a semblance of dread in my stomach; today I am to meet with [HO] and [SH] and I am not in a state to do so, yet I feel obliged. I will skip the logic reading, I think.
This miasma haunts me; it feels like last summer once again: Big Sad, as [SO] described it.
I’ve just finished THE TOMBS OF ATUAN and it was a breath of fresh air, a fun narrative where Ged takes second priority. I hope to see Tenar again in later books.
MAY 9, 2020
I dreamt I was a pro eSports player and I got a new laptop. The urgency of the dream led me to order a new laptop.
[…]
I am off to Tesco. I am tired. Feel drowsy today. Could use a nice cold shower after groceries.
[…]
The heating wasn’t working when I got back – that’s what I get for wishing for a cold shower.
I remember something else – I’m not sure whether it was a dream or just the first thought upon waking up: I remembered Mount Lemmon and Pizza Cabin and their giant cookies. I guess specifically, I’m thinking about the time and effort my parents attempted to put into taking care of my brother and I. I can see how it may have seemed like there was so little return on that.
Today everything feels hazy and I feel bloated.
[…]
I’ve just finished THE FARTHEST SHORE. The Earthsea series is just such a wonderfully slow saga, like a melody playing itself out.
MAY 10, 2020
The awareness of ideas and events between dreams and reality has begun to blur.
Last night (or rather day) I slept and dreamt that [PA] and I were walking and ran into [YE], who in the dream was [PA]’s sister and lived with his parents in 50GS.
[…]
I’ve just finished TEHANU, which must be my favorite book of the cycle so far. It is so minimalist in critically examining the human prejudices Le Guin unwittingly wrote into her own work while simultaneously adding greatly to the lore and canon, while leaving us in suspense for the final two books.
MAY 14, 2020
A lot has happened in the past 4 days. I woke up at 6am today, having crashed at 10pm (Turns out [PA] fell asleep at 7am, so equilibrium has been maintained). I’m basking in the sunlight right now. I love these morning hours, when the sunlight comes through my window.
I’ve finished THE CRYING OF LOT 49 by Pynchon and KITCHEN CONFIDENTIAL over the past few days. […] [RA] read me and [PA] a bit of CATCH-22.
[…]
The events of this morning were rather blissful, so I might go over them first. I woke up in sunlight at 6am, thinking it was much later. I checked my messages, etc., and then laid down and read a bit of THE DISPOSSESSED.
I considered getting breakfast at Tesco, but ultimately ended up cooking a nice hearty breakfast of oats, bacon and eggs with sriracha while watching Psych. I cleaned up the entire kitchen afterwards. I’m gonna continue basking here, reading and writing, until the sun leaves the frame of my window. Until then, the smells of ink and old paper will accompany me.
[…]
I would like to touch a rock and feel it wholly.
MAY 21, 2021
I’ve definitely lost my Istanbul notebook which feels extraordinarily sad.
It’s also been nearly exactly a year since I stopped journaling properly.
It’s been a year of the pandemic. The ambience between then and now feels extremely different.
[…]
This past year has been rough and it’ll take a while to decompress, which I’ll do later. My hand hurts writing even this short amount, which is frustrating.
[…]
I had a nice day yesterday with [DE]. I slept through our lunch plans , but we met in the afternoon and laid in the Meadows and read. The dandelions were blooming. We ran into [JO] on our way to dinner at Noodles and Dumplings and just chatted at the counter seats under those neon lights. I don’t remember all the conversation, but it was a bit about the stasis of pandemic, human connection, and genuineness. Made me feel good.