Familiar
Ever since I first read Dept. of Speculation, I’ve been unable to shake the idea of art monsters out of my head. Jenny Offill explains the concept like this:
My plan was to never get married. I was going to be an art monster instead. Women almost never become art monsters because art monsters only concern themselves with art, never mundane things. Nabokov didn’t even fold his own umbrella. Vera licked his stamps for him.
And although I’ve freed myself from the delusion that I could ever cast aside the chains of the mundane in favor of a full-fledged fixation on art, I nevertheless feel a pull towards the idea of art monstrosity — more than anything else, the intense commitment to creation that seems to elude me. My relationship to creating has always been like the tides and the moon that commands them, waxing and waning, though less consistently. In different seasons, I have deeply attended to my work, and grown leaps and bounds, like last year, when I re-committed to writing this newsletter and started putting more effort than ever before into it.
Lately, I’ve been feeling myself getting caught in the mundane, letting the small parts of daily life become the entirety of daily life, as if there’s nothing more to do than go grocery shopping, laundry, and watching television all the time. And although it was an enjoyable way to live for some time, I think that my phase for rest and moving slowly is coming to an end, and a season of creative work is upon me.
I’ve always aspired towards intensity — I constantly think about the Drake lyric about working so hard that you’d think he had a twin. And I’ve always been dismayed at my own inability to commit to anything as intensely as my heroes did to their own art, whether it’s the effort of PJ Tucker on the court or the hours of 6lack in the studio. Even in smaller doses, I marveled at the intensity required by those who would read the great classics of literature or master the craft of their instrument or become music producers in their free time. In contrast, I’ve always felt lackadaisical; completely unlike an art monster. My first step towards art monstrosity is to focus in on my writing and creative expression by chasing the ideas that appear in my head, rather than let them float on by, hoping that they’ll return later. With each chase, I’ll grow faster and create more and more, unleashing aspects of myself unseen thus far.
Yet, after so much time doing so little, I’m nervous about shifting gears, pondering if I’ll have the energy or the focus to bring myself into my work like I have in the past. I see myself now and wonder how I was able to juggle a million different things in college — multiple classes, several extracurriculars, maintaining a social life all while searching for a job. Nothing felt mundane then — just a constant rush of activity and time that seemed to stretch infinitely until a deadline appeared that I somehow always managed to meet. I don’t have any of the processes or environmental factors from then on my side now, so I can’t help but wonder — am I even the same person that I was then?
I stumbled upon an idea from the philosopher Derek Parfit said, “We see ourselves as singular selves moving through time and space […] but this is an illusion; instead, each person is best understood as a series of distinct individuals, overlapping and interconnected in various physical and psychological ways.” This feels right. I was a different person then, and I’ll be a different person later, but there are overlapping links that allow for similarities to persist between versions. And just as I’m able to rediscover portions of previous selves, I’m able to add pieces to the future individuals that will exist. Perhaps the next me will hold the intensity that an art monster requires. Perhaps the one after will shed the intensity for a new quality.
And I wonder if this isn’t a way to understand each other as well: individuals, overlapping and interconnected, deeply able to affect each other in various ways. Maybe later me’s will ally with later you’s and exude art monstrosity together.
Drops of the Week
RADIO - Supersonic (My Existence) by Skrillex Radio - I cannot explain why I love this radio so much, but it's really energetic which is super helpful for my workouts
ARTICLE - "Who Actually Gets to Create Black Pop Culture?" by Bertrand Cooper - incredible article exploring what representation truly means and how it often leaves out the poor — from elite institutions to Hollywood to comedy.
POEM - "If You Are Over Staying Woke" by Morgan Parker - powerful stuff
With each day, we can move closer to a more equitable world. Reminders:
Donate to South Bay Youth Changemakers Fundraiser Mutual Aid Networks
Anti-racism resources
Thanks so much for reading! If you're not already subscribed, I'd love for you to subscribe here. You can also check out my older newsletters here.
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.
The one and only,
Nikhil
Meters
In the latest edition of my favorite newsletter Maybe, Baby, Haley Nahman proposes a theory of life, in which different aspects of ourselves lay on a two-sided meter where one side is “too much,” one side is “too little,” and the absolute middle is “just right.” So, at any given time, your sleep meter will land somewhere in between too much and too little and will sometimes be just right. And the same will be true for your working meter and your vegetable consumption meter and your yoga meter and so on and so forth. Nahman suggests that growing up doesn’t mean finding the balance in all of these meters, but rather growing to accept the variability in each meter.
This interpretation feels good to me, especially in contrast to another life theory that I used to think about: the four burners theory of work-life balance. The Four Burners Theory says that your life can be divided into the four burners of health, work, family, and friends and, “in order to be successful you have to cut off one of your burners. And in order to be really successful you have to cut off two.” When I first discovered this idea a few years ago, it made a lot of sense to me, but looking at it now, it just sounds simplistic — assuming that fulfilling work requires massive amounts of time that ruin relationships or health.
When I divide my burners up into a bunch of meters each, things start to seem more manageable. I have a ton of meters around whose values bounce around like a metronome, but I also have the ability to look around and pay attention to certain ones with particular focus and intention. I can’t possibly control every aspect of my life, especially not the Taco Bell consumption meter, but I can give special attention to the parts that do matter to me, like sleep and family. As I focus on the ones that matter to me, the other ones like mental health and general well-being would improve as well. And there are the meters that are hazier: is it possible to be too honest or too authentic in life? Is it worthwhile to pay attention to the meters in that case?
Maybe not — maybe it’s better to let my attention move slowly from one meter to another, allowing them to shift in and out of focus. A few months ago, chess was my favorite hobby and now I can’t remember the last time I played a game. But I don’t mind; I like the idea that there are seasons for what I love and what I don’t, room for change in who I am constantly. My dreams of yesterday aren’t my dreams of today, and who I am today may not be who I am tomorrow.
Drops of the Week
PLAYLIST - The Wind Down - nice chill vibes to wind down before bed
ARTICLE - "Recalibrating What's Good" by Kate McKean - maybe bad things can be good too
POEM - "A Portable Paradise" by Roger Robinson - great piece!!
With each day, we can move closer to a more equitable world. Reminders:
Resources for Afghanistan Mutual Aid Networks
Anti-racism resources
Thanks so much for reading! If you're not already subscribed, I'd love for you to subscribe here. You can also check out my older newsletters here.
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.
Metrically,
Nikhil