Splash No. 146 - 7 Questions
7 Questions
The New York Times interviewed 75 artists about the last year in the form of the same 7 questions. I really enjoyed it and decided to copy Austin Kleon by answering the questions myself, of pretending to be a celebrity getting interviewed. Whether you’ve kept up with me for the last year of newsletters and beyond or this is the first thing you’ve read by me, I hope that you’ll learn something about how I’ve experienced this past year. And if you want, I’d love to know some of your answers to these questions as well (you can just reply to the email)!
1. What’s one thing you made this year?
In the past year, I focused on writing more than I ever have before. The result? 50-ish newsletters and [a zine capturing some of my favorites.] Non-publicly, I wrote some essays and poems that will likely never see the light of day, but they changed the way I think about writing drastically.
Other than writing, I made some fun graphic designs, re-designed my personal website, and a couple of poorly produced lo-fi tracks. All of the free time has helped me to create much more than I did previously, usually when watching TikTok lost its appeal and I could no longer stand to just vegetate any longer.
2. What art have you turned to in this time?
As you’d expect from me, I dove deeply into nostalgia and the ways that my favorite things from my childhood are continuously re-invented by the latest technologies and incredibly talented people online. After re-watching my favorite anime series _Hunter X Hunter_ and _Naruto_, I discovered that a fan of the show had created a condensed form of _Naruto_ for those who didn’t want to commit to the nearly 300 hours of content that came with it. I began this series with my brother, showing him the full story for the first time.
Musically, I re-discovered my love for electronic music and pop-punk. My knowledge of these genres was limited, but I had enjoyed them both when I was younger. Friends introduced me to a wider range of these genres, which now dominate my most-listened-to tracks, making me wistful for all of the raves and Warped Tour events I never thought to go to. Although this music is a different set of artists than the ones I grew up with, the same energy exists and there’s an inherent comfort to the familiarity of the core components. For electronic: the consistency and safety of the four-on-the-floor beat make “house music” live up to its name. For pop-punk: the melodrama of suburban life and impassioned vocals are perfect for simply _existing_ in the suburbs. In the monotony, peace, and simplicity of life at my parents’ house during these times of great unrest and change, the screaming guitars and screeching vocals about the mundane yet emotional experiences of life couldn’t fit any better.
3. Did you have any particularly bad ideas?
There was a point where I had several Zoom events every single week, thinking that I’d take advantage of the opportunity to go to workshops and events that would normally be happening all across the country and the world. What I didn’t realize was how terrible I was at paying attention to digital lectures and talks and how strangely draining it was to be forced to be tied to the computer in such a passive way. I mainly do voice calls now.
4. What’s a moment from this year you’ll always remember?
I came to my parents’ house at the end of August, dripping in PPE. My brother and I quarantined ourselves in our bedrooms for 2 weeks, attempting to extinguish the possibility that we could endanger our loved ones with our bodies. At the end of the fourteen days, we ran down the stairs to hug our parents for the first time in months. It was one of the most wonderful experiences, and one I’ll always savor.
5. Did you find a friendship that sustained you artistically?
I found many! Sometime this past summer, I found a couple of [writers’ groups] online, which have been fundamental to my writing process in the past year. Simply having a space to talk about the act of writing, to be petty about other writers’ success, and to share writing that we love has been one of the most artistically gratifying aspects of my life. And beyond that, my other friends offered love and kindness that served as inspiration for effusive poetry, a salve to caustic discourse that has felt unavoidable.
6. If you’d known that you’d be so isolated for so long, what would you have done differently?
In an alternate universe, I’d like to be a Nikhil who is super outdoors-y. Pre-pandemic, I never went outside much other than to go to other places indoors, something very poorly suited to the recent world. Some of the people who have coped the best lately are the ones who were able to find solace in the outdoors.
The granola version of myself would’ve probably thrived through this all, spending weekends in the woods until I eventually achieved enlightenment while gawking at a goose. Instead, I spent most of my time inside until recently, when I started going on walks on the greenway. And after so much time inside, the familiar landscape of suburban Georgia transformed into something just as novel and beautiful as the vistas on any nature documentary that David Attenborough would narrate. On my most recent walk, large parts of the woods were submerged in the rainwater from the most recent storm, while other trees that seemed to float on a sea of leaves. I walked without headphones, enjoying the latest podcast hosted by dozens of birds unseen and fully incomprehensible to me. I even had a celebrity sighting of a cardinal with brilliant red feathers that my phone camera could never hope to capture.
7. What do you want to achieve before things return to normal?
I’m haunted by a meme that says “I spent the best evenings of my life unaware that they were significant.” It evokes intense anxiety: what if the good ole days are behind us? What if the good ole days are right now? The only solution I can muster is to treat every day as if it is significant, to fully experience it, to try and live without the possibility of regret.
Even if I’ve bragged about keeping my screen time under 10 hours, five or six hours still feels much too high. Before the real world can come back and I can replace mukbangs with meals with friends, I’d like to cut back on my time with my phone. As it stands, my phone and AirPods are near-constant companions, an IV drip of content that keeps me so constantly entertained that it’s impossible for me to be truly bored.
My goal is to regain the skill of boredom — learn to be able to sit with the intense discomfort of nothing happening so that once everything rushes back and I can do everything again, I won’t reach for my phone and will be able to observe what I’ve been missing this whole time. Without the need for distraction, maybe I’ll be able notice what will actually make my days significant. I doubt I even know what really matters to me anymore, so I can just hope to venture back into the world again with wide eyes.
Drops of the Week
PLAYLIST - march 21 - the stuff I listened to this month! pretty eclectic this month, but mostly electronic, pop and pop punk going on.
ARTICLE - "Reiki Can’t Possibly Work. So Why Does It?" by Jordan Kisner - fantastic piece that digs into Reiki, but also the assumptions that are built into Western understandings of wellness and Eastern practices. Specifically, it talks about how certain Eastern practices are rejected as woo-woo until they have a scientific backing, often requiring more rigor than other treatments would.
FILM - Pagglait - fun, emotional dramedy about loss and how different people learn to deal with it
With each day, we can move closer to a more equitable world. Reminders:
Donate to Asian Americans Advancing Justice Atlanta Mutual Aid Networks
Anti-racism resources
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Also, I'd love to hear your thoughts— you can reply to this email if you loved or hated the letter, or you want to tell me about how your day has been. I'm all ears.
Unquestionably,
Nikhil