ebbs and flows

hi. i’m here now after three months of what seems like some of the most up-and-down anxiety-inducing-yet-ultimately-satisfactory period of my life so far. i took a break to kind of face that time on my own - i don’t think i would’ve had the courage or even mental capacity to write publicly about the cacophony that was this past semester (my third of eight in college).

the past couple of entries here have been downcast. i can’t not admit that my state of mind over the summer and for the few months leading up to now has been a dark blue. i saw reflections in my attitude and feelings of self-worth and -value that mimicked how i perceived myself in middle school - just hopeless and sick (note: i’ve never fully opened up about that time; this post i wrote in 9th grade gives the smallest glimpse of it). thinking back on those early years of teenagedom has only made me realize how much i needed to be stronger now.

i’m 20. i started writing here when i felt alone seven years ago.

can you believe that? how could i let myself fall back into the traps of my mind from when i was 13? why couldn’t i resist? what was wrong with feeling alone again?

just like the last few years of teenage-now-adultdom have ebbed and flowed in an effort to find myself, so too have the past few months. releasing myself from the firm grasp of summer depressions, learning to rely on my friends who i didn’t initially believe could help (and really truly do), focusing on what i love (because art is what matters) and not on what i don’t, calling my parents, calling abby (my best friend from home), appreciating the mornings listening to npr by myself, cooking for myself again — i had to learn to do these things before i could get out of where i was. this hole that i kept digging myself into every time i told myself i couldn’t get out.

i’m above that hole now. i’ve been able to enjoy small things again (e.g. something like a midnight drive on a tuesday) because i’ve disentangled myself from the dark blue that used to tower over me.

i’m home in new york as i write this. only now can i sit down and really think about the ebbs and flows of june and july and august and september and october and november. it’s over now (or it feels like it). i’m just sailing.

i’ll update more frequently here now. i promise.

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counting my blessings

things haven’t been going my way lately.

it seems as though my health (not even my chronic stuff anymore) is constantly faltering. the physical pain weighs stress on my body and on my mind week after week. i’ve already been trying to take care of my staggering mental health in every way i can. it seems like i don’t have enough time to figure everything out. i feel like i’m spreading myself thin to fix myself.

i didn’t foresee the extreme pitfall that is living alone with all of these things (bad physical/mental health) going on. if i’m away from my home-for-one, every problem i may worry about feels minimal and temporary. only when i come home to empty spaces and rooms and atmospheres do i feel the flood of everything bad rushing into my thoughts.

i feel alone.

i have to generate my own happiness instead of relying on those directly around me to share their joy with me. there aren’t many directly around me. i didn’t realize how hard that would be. it is so much easier for me to think about all the things in my life that i am struggling to fix when i am alone. i keep falling into pits of self-doubt and anxiety.

i have my space to breathe. but my space is dangerous. right now, it’s a little suffocating. at night, i’m locked inside with my head and my introspection and self-scrutiny. i’m fighting with myself constantly. i wish i were stronger.

lately, i have been relying on my friends more. being emotional a bit more. going to bed a little bit earlier after my friends leave so i can’t give myself the chance to be seized into my thoughts. it’s do-able for now but i’m trying to find ways to make it more sustainable.

i’ve been trying to more frequently and genuinely acknowledge all the good things i do have and that can make me happy. my progress has been small, but it has been getting better. i must count my blessings to get out of this rut.

i’ll get through this.

love, izzy

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and i'll be singing
halle-halle-halle-halle-halle-hallelujah
halle-hallelujah
whether you like it or not

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want me back

i’m building this playlist as i’m writing and thinking and generally reflecting on the past 24 days since i’ve written last. listen to it if you want while you read.

i told my therapist today that even though i’ve been going through a lot of (sh*t) stuff, i’ve become more self-aware. i’m more cognizant of what i need and how i need to make myself feel better. i’m in new york city for 10 more days before i go ‘home’, and then i start school and hopefully everything’s back to normal again.

i explained to someone the other day why i’ve been anxious– from moving to LA, living by myself, doing things by myself for myself, having a full time job… he said, “isn’t that everything you wanted?”. and yes, it was everything i wanted and still want. it took me a second to figure out why things weren’t as great as i had expected them to be.

i was excited for change. big change. and yeah, i created the biggest change i could possibly contrive for myself. every single facet of life changed once i moved. for one, where i was; more importantly, who i was with (and who i wasn’t), what i spent most of my day doing, the expanded control i had over the minute choices in my day, new earthquakes, new injuries, new health concerns. problems.

the change was explosive. gut-wrenching. and, in a lot of ways, problematic. i assumed i was ready for these adjustments, seeing as they were, in fact, “everything i wanted”. but, the fact that i eventually begged for an escape back to new york proves that i wasn’t as prepared as i had originally thought myself to be.

i was not ok. now i’m ok. i have breathing room. i keep using that word in conversations. ‘breathe’. i can breathe. i’m turning 20 next month and 6 weeks ago moving out to la i thought i was 19 going on 27.

yeah, i feel back to being 19.

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“i don’t wanna go home

shall we drive from zone to zone?

i wouldn’t do this on my own”

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i know a lot of you check in on here often to see what i’m sharing even though i’m pretty infrequent with posts. if you want to be updated of when i do write on here, you can sign up for a newsletter from me so you don’t have to be disappointed when you drop by and nothing’s changed.

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if i'm being honest

i’m feeling lost. anxious. on edge.

alone.

i’m not lonely but i feel alone.

there’s a lot going on in los angeles and in my life and i’m having a hard time keeping up with the changes by myself. earthquakes are on my mind. the big one seems to be looming over california. this overwhelming feeling of being alone in a disaster makes me uneasy. it’s hard to stay grounded when, for days, talk of how to be prepared for an event like that was all that seemed to be on the news. it’s funny how we listen to the news to keep informed about current events, but sometimes it’s too much weight to bear. it messes with me sometimes.

i took a break for a few days.

i’m still adjusting to this new life here, but it seems like things are being thrown at me before i’ve acclimated to alone-ness. i need to learn to enjoy alone-ness before i can be okay with being alone in scenarios where i don’t want to be.

i fractured my foot in an accident of my own doing on friday. i spent most of the day in different hospitals around los angeles just trying to get help on my own. i have never been alone when i was hurt. i have never used a wheelchair before. it was difficult for me to get around, but i kept trying. los angeles felt so big and i felt so so small. isolated. i think i felt more psychological and emotional pain on friday than i did physical. my foot is still blue and purple and black all over, and i’m working from home the rest of the month.

life is hitting me harder than i thought it would right now. i am more fragile and susceptible to complete emotional pivots within my day. i just want to go home.

i just want to be honest.

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i moved out

yeah. i moved out to los angeles. officially. seriously. formally.

also, hi. it’s been a minute.

i moved out on june 5th. it’s been a few weeks since then and i’m slowly adjusting. my room back in nyc is no longer mine. i’ve transferred all of my belongings to my new “mini house” in los angeles. i’m at 716 1/2. i think i’m going to call it ‘half haus’.

i’m still processing the feelings that i’m going through right now. it’s been almost like a slap in the face how abruptly my lifestyle has changed. suddenly i have a full time job, i’m paying for gas and electricity, and i am the only human functioning what is now ‘home’. it’s a shell-shock into the world of independence but also to the world of responsibility.

it’s invigorating. but, i’m kind of tired.

i love what’s going on around me. what kind of world i am starting to make for myself. i love what i’m doing at my new job (at UNUM). i love being able to cook in my own little kitchen. i love being able to hang art anywhere and everywhere i want. i love the space i am creating. there is no other word to describe this feeling but ‘exciting’.

i feel really good. i don’t have any self doubts like i have had in the past. if anything, i am ever-more confident of who i am and what i can do. but, man oh man, uni is a totally different world than this one. i am drained. (creative) thinking is at an all-time high (given the sheer volume of content that i am producing 45 hours a week. i think i am being pushed to my limits. hopefully it’ll be easier from here).

my home is “my home”. hopefully i can show you soon how i’ve made it izzy-ified. as for nyc home, i miss it a lot. i miss new york city already. but i think i am ready for big change. and that change has happened at a fitting time.

i love you, new york.

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recently i've been...

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…home. i’m home again. finally. i’m in new york city, if it’s been that long that you need a reminder. it’s been 6 days here and only t-18 days until i’m back in los angeles. it’s been an interesting few weeks.

my health is… improving? i started therapy. i finished classes and had exams. went to study color at the getty one night. got $5 ramen the other. had a party with my filmmaking cohort on a roof in downtown la. made new friends. therapy. made s’mores with my roommates at the fire pit and we just talked. ate dim sum. spent the day on a trampoline with my preschool friend who i still love. saw another doctor. flew home. mother’s day. saw my best friend from high school and day-napped together. about to get my aura taken tonight with my family.

it’s been a great few weeks.

i miss my friends back in los angeles. i’ll see them soon.

i’ve been thinking a lot about how best i can spend my next 18 days at home. i’ve been slowly marking things off my checklist of random errands. fix pants? done. watch hanna? done. i have the space for unnecessary tasks. it’s been nice to finally relieve all the little things i’ve been wanting to get done for a couple of months.

i watch movies with my parents in the evening. talk with my -3hr difference friends past midnight. do my errands during the day. and i wake up around 10:30am. i like the balance and the need to not have to do anything. a least for a little bit. (watch me next write about my stir craziness).

here are a few bookmarks that i’ve been bookmarking because internet bookmarks are also relevant to my days:

1. jacob collier singing make me cry has been on repeat in the house recently. i saw him live in concert a month or two ago in los angeles and this song swayed me. now whenever i listen to it i just kind of entrance myself again.

2. i’m trying not to buy groceries and baking items that i can’t finish in 3 weeks (and that, honestly, no one else in my house will ever eat). so as i much as i want to make this date granola, i think i’ll wait to try it out until i move into my new place in LA.

3. i need to make my way to essex market. hopefully, it’s not like chelsea market? they have vegan artisan cheeses. sold.

4. i’ve been accumulating ways to mitigate my plastic use and waste. re: ‘minimalism’. i need a coffeemaker and i’ve been wanting to try to make my own nut milks instead of buying containers from the grocery store that use huge plastics. it’s cheap too. this solves that.

5. too bad i never want to go to jfk ever.

see you next week.

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'minimalism'

what do you think about when you hear the world ‘minimalism’? do you think of art? do you think of architecture? fashion? design? or do you think about lifestyle and marie kondo and perfectly organized spaces with glass jars?

i think more often than not, i’m thinking about the type of minimalism where you try to get rid of all of your unnecessary belongings— the “things” that have seemingly no impact on your life. the things that you don’t need.

i spent a few weeks studying the origins of the term ‘minimalism’ itself–– aging back to the 1960s when it was used to describe artists like andre, judd, and flavin in their primes. artists who we praise now but were previously scorned by art critics for their mundane pieces.

carl andre, “lever” (1966)

donald judd, “untitled” (1965)

dan flavin, “untitled (to barbara lipper)” (1973)

even then, the term had this sort of air of entitlement: art in its most raw form was considered art in its most pure form. david raskin, a professor of contemporary art history at the school of art institute of chicago, said that for viewers, minimalist art provided the “opportunity to see the world without preconceptions.” i assume that he is implying that any other type of art makes us see the world insincerely..?

as i followed the transitions of the term ‘minimalism’ throughout the years, this “high-brow-ness” of the word endured, even after being adopted by other creative spheres: fashion, design, and architecture.

it was also – at some point, i remember – a tumblr fad. entire blogs were dedicated to posting photographs of pristine, white, angular interior designs and buildings. its look is sterile, almost to the point of discomfort. it seemed extreme.

i must say that as an artist myself, i’ve been guilty of trying to emulating this trend. minimalism just looks nice. it’s luxurious and clean—both physically and aesthetically.

but the reality of ‘minimalism’ isn’t all that pretty.

more recently, ‘minimalism’ has been crafted into an entire lifestyle. a lifestyle that, again, “leads to purity”… personal purity and self-fulfillment. how we live and what we own, according ‘minimalism’ activist marie kondo, indicates our “virtue and moral correctness.” so if we don’t live by her standards, we don’t have virtue? i’m getting that same sense of entitlement as the artistic connotation, no?

that’s just my feeling.

‘minimalism’ also becomes a socioeconomic issue because it is only truly accessible to those who have the financial cushion to buy back the things that they discard if they need them later.

“in order to feel comfortable throwing out all your old socks and handbags, you have to feel pretty confident that you can easily get new ones” — arielle bernstein, the atlantic

kondo underscores the “life-changing” psychological benefits of ‘minimalism,’ but doesn’t really acknowledge the environmental benefits that the lifestyle poses as well.

it’s obvious that we have a tendency to buy and own more stuff. but what does all of this stuff do to the planet? human product consumption contributes to almost 60% of global greenhouse gas emissions (GHGs) alone. in other words, the more we accumulate, the more we contribute to GHGs.

‘minimalism’ is fundamentally about owning less. if we just own less, we can help alleviate these harmful emissions. we just have to make ‘minimalism’ easier for people to follow and broaden the scope of the term away from this new-age-y, high-end lifestyle to help “find our truest selves.”

we just have to be honest with ourselves and our habits. at its core, ‘minimalism’ is about being more conscious of the things we buy and why we buy them. if we adhere to that principle alone, i think it would be easier for people to get behind— both as a concept that promotes psychological sustainability as well as eco-sustainability. it doesn’t have to be about purity and moral virtue. it just has to be about mindfulness.

just a thought.

if you want to read my full essay in a more educational and unbiased format, you can find it here.

thanks for listening.

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when you can't eat a lot of stuff

a few weeks ago, i was diagnosed with this chronic disease called small intestinal bacterial overgrowth. people call it SIBO. this is what i felt like when i received the news.

i’ve been dealing with a lot the last four to five weeks. i know i haven’t really been present on here, and honestly, that space has been relieving. i think what is overwhelming me most is the abrupt and almost instantaneous changes that are happening in my life to cure what has seemed like almost six years of health problems.

what does that look like? bouncing between 2 different “diets” that have opposite restrictions (note: “diet” in this context = limiting certain foods to keep me from relapsing into SIBO, not trying to lose weight). seeing 4 doctors regularly— 5 after today. beginning my cycle of antibiotics for what i thought would be 3 months. explaining to people what i can’t eat and why i can’t eat it. having to prove to people that my health matters.

i think it is honest to say that i am frustrated. i’m slowly acknowledging these “setbacks” as progress— that this is what i need to push through, deal with, accept to get better. i am getting better. it gets easier to make this distinction as i see improvements in my health.

for me, the struggles that i am facing in recovery have had more of a mental impact than a physical one. i don’t want to restrict my food, but i am being asked to. i don’t want to check labels on the back of containers, but it is heavily recommended that i do so. in minor ways, i am being asked to return to disordered habits. i know that i cannot let that happen.

sibo recovery has been a test of my recovery from previous disorders. i dismiss disordered thoughts as soon as they enter my head space. i try to think less about why i am eating something even though i have to make sure i know what i am eating. i’m starting to practice mindful eating. i just have to slow down.

i have proven to myself that i am stronger than whatever i was going through many years ago.

and i am so incredibly proud of myself for that.

i’m getting better. i’ve been coping with the stress of my fluctuating health the best way i know how: cooking. i make breakfast in my dorm every day. you can find out what i get to eat every morning as i document my meals here.

i’m getting stronger.

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slow down

i have to keep reminding myself to slow down. to slow slow slow down. to not overanalyze minute details. to draw my attention away from the things that should matter less.

i had a little bit of a mental breakdown on monday. it was this feeling of pent up and enclosing anxiousness and fear of myself. my head was bubbling with self-deprecating thoughts that kept nagging and nagging at me. i was breaking myself down in small, stinging ounces. i knew that it was all in my head. it didn’t matter. i couldn’t stop myself from thinking of myself in this critical light of revulsion. i knew that it was agonizing me but for half the day i just couldn’t stop. i boxed myself in with my own thoughts. i was dipping back into old depressive habits when i was younger.

i called my mom.

and i clicked.

i distracted myself. i cleaned, made my bed, pounded out work, ate. i took a walk. and i took a bikeride to run errands that i had been putting off. just checking off boxes helped me feel better. i took some time to just sit in the sun for a little bit. i reached out to my friends for help. i felt better. i got some bright yellow flowers.

i’m more conscious of how my mind reacts to these bouts of anxiety. i can control them better. but in the moment, i feel entirely caged in my head. i just need to become better at seeing the bigger picture in these entrapping but minuscule moments.

i’m getting better.

thanks for hearing me.

just slow down, iz.

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2019! & found artists: hiller goodspeed

happy almost new year. 2-0-1-9.

happy birthday to my 5-5 year-old papa. he hasn’t aged since 33.

2-0-1-9. 20-19. 20-nineteen. twenty-nineteen. that’s a weird one. i was just getting used to 2018. it feels like years are rapidly accelerating more than normal. i think i’m in this place where new things are new all the time and new things are a lot more frequent than normal or expected or “i’m-used-to-it” things. i love it. it’s experimental and unpredictable. i get to try and do things on my own, and even though that scares me, it’s also pushing me to figure things out as efficiently and effectively as i can.

i’m being pushed (emotionally, creatively, etc.) and that is exciting.

to celebrate both my dad’s birthday and new year, my mom, dad, q and i usually announce what things we want to work on for the next 365 days. ““new year’s resolutions”” is what the people call it, i believe?

so here are a few of mine:

1. start a weekly (or maybe bi-weekly) video series. get those creative ! juices ! flowing !

2. read a couple times a week instead of exploring the dark interwebs

3. content & quality > frequency & quantity (this is a continued resolution)

4. don’t stay silent.

5. join organizations or groups (in school) that push my boundaries (creatively, socially, etc.)

6. make a lot more art since i have the freedom

what are your resolutions of 2019?

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oh, yeah. hiller goodspeed. what this post is really about. his doodles, art, sketches, gifs, and whatnot make me really happy. they are emblematic of my dry, sarcastic humor. i’m sure we share that same sense of what' is “““funny”””. his drawings weren’t originally in a notebook, but i thought it added an analogous feel.

there’s not much color diversity. and i love that. they’re simple (yet also sophisticated?) drawings and i love that too. they’re just fun.

i thought it would be only appropriate to share them. you’re welcome.

“most of my drawings begin with a great deal of thought. i eavesdrop and daydream and take in my surroundings which i later refine and re-purpose in my artwork. i have email drafts and notebooks where i record half-thoughts and ideas that might become more interesting once i’ve had time to think about them.” - hiller goodspeed, for it’s nice that

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happy (almost) new year!

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found artists: alex proba

“making [is the best part of my job]. and the people i am making things with.”

alex proba is a “multidisciplinary designer”. a woman of multiple mediums working with shapes and colors and form of all kinds. in 2013, she founded studio proba, where all of her work can be found — aka graphic joy.

one of her most recent projects has been her “a poster a day project” which has been ongoing for almost 3 years. it was, she writes, her way from getting unstuck — to design without really thinking but just playing around without guidelines for thirty minutes every evening.

from abstract to surreal to pattern-filled to completely minimalist, each graphic is unique.

“I can’t take each and every one too seriously and I can’t spend too much time on it. If the result of this is me not liking some, than that’s okay, as long as it still stays my visual diary. That is what makes it truthful and real.”

there’s an integral drivenness that comes with creating something once a day every day for three years. in proba’s case, it requires a drive to not only challenge yourself to create consistently but to let things settle in once they are created (sometimes). often times, i realize, i have a similar idealist/perfectionist mindset when making something.

over the past few years i’ve learned to come to terms with my “bad” art — classified usually by the fact that a) i am not proud of it or b) it just sucks overall. alex is right though: that kind of art is healthy and almost essential to becoming a better artist.

we must remember the sucky stuff we made to figure out how to do something cooler next time. i think about that daily. the sucky stuff is the most real. we made it.

happy monday.

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p.s. happy birthday, gab

hello, la

hello.

i’m in a new place. i’m 3000 miles away from home-home. i call this place “home” now. my friends seem to hate it. i’m just a jumble of homesickness. i’m settled. or settling. i’m creating but just not in the way i expected i would. it’s coming soon, though.

i’m meeting cool people. i’m friends with art people, film people, business people, econ people. i’m finding “me”s. or more interesting “me”s, which thrills me.

i want to make more!

i want to film more!

i want to take the metro more!

it’s only been four weeks.

i’m in a constant reminding-myself-mode that i am just getting started.

i miss home.

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goodbye, hello

i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

i love you.

i miss you.

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summer polaroids

i have three weeks until i leave for los angeles. back home i go. 

it's weird. i'm living these summer moments home candidly and with the intention and the knowledge that they will be my last in this sort of situation, as a high schooler living in new york. that's weird to me. i won't be seeing anyone from home until november. what????? i'm on my own. 

i thought i'd reflect on a few photos that don't exactly sum up my summer but thought were indicative of the sort of stuff i've been up to. they're not in no particular order because chaotic order is more style. or organized chaos, i guess.

i've been walking around and eating and dining and making and doing and cooking and baking and reading and relaxing and visiting museums and seeing people and eating ice cream and dying on the really hot days. 

i remind myself every few days that i must really savor these moments with the people i love here. this is not an ordinary moment. thank you to everyone who's made it special.

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i was grey

here's the thing about graduating at my school. you wear white. pure, crisp, blinding white. or, at least, that's what you're supposed to wear. commencement is a big deal for obvious reasons: it's a nod at our efforts to succeed at school for the past 13 years and it's a celebration of our last moments of being a teenager in high school. like a lot of other schools, we honor our graduation with diplomas, singing, and our families and close friends in front of us while we grin onstage. we are being championed for us. i am being championed for me. 

the symbolic purity of white dresses is something i've only found at my school, (though i know others do it as well in the city). i wasn't exactly white though.

on graduation day, i knew it was coming-- looks (greatly disapproving) and comments towards my dress. i acknowledged that i was pushing white. even though i had expected some pushback before i came to school, i was still so excited to feel beautiful on a day that celebrates me for me, because that's what commencement is all about, right?

someone had approached me before we walked on stage and told me that the color of my dress would ruin pictures. i kind of spiraled into a whirlpool of self-deprecating and self-conscious mind junk after that. 

i did not feel beautiful, i was insecure. i felt ashamed. i didn't smile wholeheartedly until i realized that people didn't have to look me up and down anymore. the biggest day of our entire upper school life and i showed up looking abnormal. 

but eventually i sucked it up. 

i am me for me. maybe my dress wasn't white, but it was me. "irrefutably you" is what one of my friends told me. 

and that was it.

i was grey. 

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i'm learning

image by haleyisokay

i'm learning.

two weeks ago there was a mass shooting in parkland, florida. i'm ashamed to have only just felt this intense urge to do something now, after so many other tragedies.

i'm inspired and empowered by the voices of my fellow teenagers. the survivors of parkland have transformed and gained hold of the national dialogue. in those two short weeks, they've already enacted change.

i'm learning to use my voice too.

i'm learning to become more educated on our country's current standing on gun control among about other issues that i am passionate about (of which, at times, it seems there are too many). 

i'm learning to call my state and local reps and communicate my own views.

i'm learning to break the boundary of doing, beyond planning, beyond hypotheticals. 

vote! organize. walk. scream. march. debate. and continue.

i'm learning to do all of these things. i'm finding the power to do all of these things. 

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on happiness

from an excerpt i wrote in my journal this morning:

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maybe i'm saying all of this because i'm on winter break.

well.

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biggest little city

i went to reno last weekend.

i saw my friends that i never get to see.

we recorded music.

i climbed a snowy hill.

i fell into the snow. purposefully. 

i was in arizona for a few hours.

i think i cried at some point. i probably won't see them again for a while.

love you guys.

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eighteen

it's hard to believe i'm an adult now.

i can sign my own papers, take a flight by myself, vote. 

i am my own person now. legally. 

that's such a strange thing, and another addition to the growing whirlwind of growing-up-stuff i'm driving into.

i am not ready to go quite yet – i still have a whole year ahead of me. 

i will make the most out of what i have. i will make the most out of what i am given. i will make the most out of who i am. i will make the most out of eighteen.

i am eighteen now.

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hello, seniors

dear seniors,

hello.

it's a weird feeling isn't it? being back? we're entering this new realm of teenagedom and it feels strange. it feels like we're almost adults – we are almost adults – but there still exists this surreal barrier that we have to break through to get there. 

i won't be surprised if we spend our days writing away our life stories in the next few months, trying to explain our identities in only a limited number of words and numbers. 

two days in, it's already stressful. i want the best for all of you, even if i don't say it to you all the time. we're all going to get there, to adulthood or whatever that means. this will be hard, i know. but we'll get there.

there's going to be a lot of stuff to look forward to.

i'm excited for it all, and to spend our last months together with you guys.

cheers to us,

izzy

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