Re: COVID, Kerouac, and a Series Called Halston

Shortly after my week-long trip to visit my mother in Boise, I got…wait for it… COVID. Again. It’s been like a rerun of an old boring movie you don’t want to watch but nothing else is on so you just sit through it. During this time, I re-read The Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac, a meandering, in the best way, semi-autobiographical novel about a writer who is living within a polarity of existence. Meaning, the main character, Ray Smith is both a backpacking seeker who engages with nature, Buddhism, and meditation and a party hungry poet out for the next drunken thrill in the big city. In either and all cases, this guy is trying to transcend reality. I get it buddy. The novel is about searching, but it also illuminates the process of writing and the allusive act of fully articulating an experience into words: “One day I will find the right words and they will be simple.” Further, the novel pushes against itself through dialogue that highlights the tension between living experiences and merely writing about them: “I don’t want hear about your word descriptions of words words words you made up all winter man I wanta be enlightened by actions.”

“One day I will find the right words and they will be simple.” 

Last semester I was teaching my class at San Diego State University called Art & Identity. Pretty rad, right?  We studied the artist Jean-Michel Basquiat who, during a photoshoot, insisted he be photographed holding a copy of The Subterraneans by Kerouac, who Basquiat said was a major influence.  This prompted me to share an excerpt with the class and, in turn, re-purchase (because I give away all my books) The Dharma Bums, On the Road, and The Subterraneans.  At the time, this felt urgent and necessary to me.  Much like rewatching Halston, it brought a level of familiarity and comfort. And inspiration.

“You can’t put a budget on inspiration.”

All this is to say that I am drawn to works of art that underscore living within extremes or going to extremes to create art. These convergences have prompted me to consider what bears repeating and why things recur. While I don’t have any firm answers, I want to keep exploring these questions: What do I keep returning to? What stories do I retell?  What does the act of repetition lend? The rereading of the novel, getting COVID again and my unrelenting obsession with Halston, all led me to consider this human urge to recapture, repeat, and relive what keeps us from venturing into existential crisis land.  I joke with my husband that I’m going to start an existential crisis hotline but when you call it, no one is there. 

Favorite Reads of 2022

Hello! Another year of reading and writing has come to a close. The week after Christmas and before New Years can be a little strange and fuzzy, so instead of scrolling through Instagram and watching Seinfeld reruns, I decided to take stock and share some beautiful book suggestions with you. I am still reeling after reading these magical gems. Here are my favorite reads of 2022!

The Night Watchman by Louise Erdrich, Novel

This was my absolute favorite book of the year. Winner of the Pulitzer Prize, this epic captures the intersecting lives of the native Chippewa people in 1950s rural North Dakota. The main character, Thomas Wazhashk, is based on Edrich’s grandfather, Patrick Gourneau, who was also a night watchman and fought against the termination of five tribes in 1953 by the U.S. government. The characters are rich and I fell in love with their wit, beauty and flaws.

The Empathy Effect by Helen Reiss, Non-Fiction

This relatable and readable nonfiction work proposes that empathy can be practiced and learned. Based on scientific studies and evidence, Reiss relays complex theories in terms that any reader can understand. These bite sized chapters are the perfect mix of hard data and anecdotes. I am assigning this book for an Honors course I created and am teaching at San Diego State called Radical Empathy and Revolutionary Poetics and can’t wait to discuss with the students.

So I Began by Lisa Lubasch, Poetry

Author of four previous poetry collections, Lubasch’s expansive and experimental work continues to explore the momentum of language and small moments of the sublime. Gestures, utterances, and fragile details combine and collide “over the line, and past,/over the sentence,/keeps you…”.

The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo, Novel

This fantastical read reinvents the classic, The Great Gatsby with more (dare I say) magic and mystery. Vo revives the glamorous Jordan Baker as the narrator who still golfs, likes to party, and is also a queer Vietnamese adoptee. With hints of gothic elements and magic realism, Miss Baker is resurrected with a complex past and uncertain future, relaying familiar scenes with a twist that will spur your memories of high school English class.

[neurotic love baby] by Marie Conlan, Poetry

Conlan’s newest collection spans five intoxicating sections composed of entropic spaces, hues of wilderness, and piercing questions that are at once ephemeral and funny: “How many things do you own?” Jutting images and gritty testimony collide to embody intimate fields wherein “you are a sepia rinse & I keep seeing your face bloom from inside my mouth.” Conlan’s prose-like poems, in their varying incarnations, culminate into a landscape where bodies decompose and mix “with blood, dist with sweat” inside an urgent syntax that does not let up.

All’s Well by Mona Awad, Novel

After an accident, a theater professor living with chronic pain no one seems to believe or understand is obsessed with staging Shakespeare’s All’s Well That Ends Well, to the great disgruntlement of everyone around her. This is a seering, funny novel and brings up serious questions about women in academia, the quest to be taken seriously, and the suspicion that surrounds chronic pain, especially of women. I could not put this down and I wanted to start it all over again as soon as I was finished.

Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude by Ross Gay, Poetry

Winner of the National Book Award, National Book Critics Circle Award for Poetry and Winner of the Kingsley Tufts Poetry Award, Gay examines small moments of joy proclaiming what is beautiful, fresh, illuminating, and moving. The collection is about his life as a community orchardist and the lines are rich with the scent of soil and the sweetness of peaches. Gay tills painful memories that remind us of the finite nature of all living beings.

There There by Tommy Orange, Novel

In this Pulitzer Prize Finalist novel and one of the New York Times 10 Best Books of the Year in 2018, Orange conveys the complexities and painful histories of urban Natives. The novel traces the lives of twelve vivid characters who are all traveling to the Oakland Powwow. Connections between characters are unveiled in unexpected and surprising ways. Heartbreaking, honest, and urgent, I was on the edge of my seat until the last page.

How to Write a Novel in 20 Pies by Amy Wallen, Nonfiction

This book is comforting and inspiring, much like a delectable pie with your favorite filling. Wallen offers practical advice and insider knowledge for aspiring novelists (such as myself!). My friend Patricia gifted this book to me and I am so glad she did! The personal stories, fun illustrations by Emil Wilson, and recipes will have you well on your way to literary stardom!

I am in the process of reading the following, which I highly recommend as well:

Reading Basquiat by Jordana Moore Saggese, Art Criticism/History

The Sorrow Festival by Erin Slaughter, Poetry

Postcolonial Love Poem by Natalie Diaz, Poetry

Ninth Street Women by Mary Gabriel, Art Criticism/History