Greer Dworman's essay is in their own words "not a response on work. It is a reflective writing on practice. It is in itself a result of a practice." This is not a manual, the list offers no clear routes. Perhaps a performance practice will look more like a crumbled set of intentions. An action plan on how to welcome our daily stumblings, big and small. Like when we don’t let the tea brew for enough minutes in the morning and still we drink it and still it wakes us up.
Amelia Bande, co-editor
-My “promotions” folder is busier than my main inbox and that makes me feel lonely. I’ve been unsubscribing to email lists because “I don’t actually want to hear from any of you.”
-You’re blonde now. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?!
-Meditating in Muji is “so New York.”
-Research why Seinfeld is “so situationally New York”
-Life is suffering and you can always be more specific and charming about it.
-Maybe don’t worry so much about what a writing practice is “supposed” to be.
-Where has the air quote hand gesture gone to?
-Sometimes growing means feeling stupid.
-Let this summer be the summer you finally make a website. (do I not get stuff because I don’t have a website?) (what exactly have I “not gotten?”)
-Don’t just put the dried-out pens back in the cup. Throw them away because of the metaphor in that.
-Genuinely care more about the internet content your dad shares with you. He cares about your interests more than anyone. Maybe even more than you.
-Track shorts were never a part of the plan.
-The Gym was never a part of the plan.
-Watch that monk Chef’s Table episode again.
-I was surprised by Anthony Bourdain’s gun politics. Or was I?
-Yoga was never a part of the plan.
-Blatant youthful arrogance.
-Commit to your temper tantrum “practice.”
-Savor the satisfaction of people thinking you look like Aaron Carter without you having to tell them to think that.
-Email Laurie and Lili about doing a durational performance at AUNTS where you build a piece of IKEA furniture by yourself. (Source the community for who needs something built.) (Ask Tess and Laurel if this is a dumb idea.)
-You don’t have to explain to anyone why you keep taking Instagram off your phone.
-Find out if dish soap is flammable.
-Technically every day is a new day to restart the “New year, new You” mantra.
I recognize that I stay in things despite deeper feelings of discord about them. All to avoid (prolong) the falling off the cliff while white-knuckling the edge of it.
Why do I stay with things like this?
There’s something about stability and instability as co-managers. Refuge in the known even though it’s sucking (vacuuming) your essential life energies.
What is supporting me? Am I supporting myself? Give yourself some relief from your own desperation/deprivation. Do the work to make it easier. That work is not easy.
There’s an attachment thing happening. Attachment whether it’s hurting, helping or both. What’s with the both? What is serving you in the disservice?
Cliché and simple: the relationship you need right now is with your practice. A reevaluation of what your practice is and what it means in your life.
When you moved to NY it was just about practical survival; house, job, companionship. These things are not in danger anymore but you maybe never redirected your energy to balance with passion, desire, fulfillment. Suddenly, ironically, these three things are now the things that are about your practical survival. It feels more simple for you to do your taxes than it does to go to the doctor.
Unlike the first time you found yourself alone with yourself like this, the current urgency (currgency?) isn’t cultured in you uncovering new spaces of your identity; sudden urgency (surgency?), a haircut, body dysphoria. Those were hot and loud.
The room where your present things dwell is darker, quieter, harder to get to. And you don’t know everything about its lay out. But you are, in a sense, responsible for where things have landed. And you’re shushing yourself so that you may see better.