First and foremost, I want to express that my thoughts are with the Ukrainian people who are on the ground and with those who have family in the region. Human lives are at stake and my heart goes out to individuals and families caught up in this evolving crisis.
It has been a pearl of a month with a skewered heart in the centre, as Margaret Atwood puts it in the eloquent opening to this newsletter. February swept in on a rose-petal scented wind and left the same way. Having twenty-eight days in a month never fails to feel brief, time passing through my hands like so much discarded sand. Personal developments have meant that this February feels inexplicably shorter than usual, slipping away like a memory and leaving me clutching my heart beneath a streetlight. Another month of winter has ended, and spring is fast approaching (or it would be if I didn’t live in Canada, but for the sake of a consistent theme let’s say that spring is on its way), and I feel aimless in a way I rarely do.
On the note of confusion—my favourite holiday has always been Valentine’s Day, but the actual arrival of the occasion rarely affords me the joy I attribute to it. This year was no different—the day had a sour, congested feeling, but I doubt this will interfere with my love for any day that allows me to express my earnest, gleeful pleasure at the company I keep. Next year, I resolve that it will be a day that pays itself off, that I will begin writing my cards as early as possible to ensure that mental health struggles do not interfere with my ability to complete them. I will discard the idea that the beginning of the year is the only time to make resolutions; during the months we can refine and change our ideas.
I caught my breath in February. Beginnings I have been praying for arrived, an old wound resurfaced to my contrition, and I racked up an impressive phone bill for the first time as a teenager. While I fear the fatigue will never leave me (along with the blankets of snow that cover the sum total I see through my bedroom window), I feel strangely excited for what’s to come. The extent of regret I hold for what’s left behind has begun to dwindle.
This is the second of my monthly wrap-up newsletters. My aim with this recurring section of nowhaunting is to describe and comment on the media I have engaged with during the month, give some personal updates on life and writing, then provide some thoughts on what lies ahead. Each month of the year feels precious and distinct to me, so the goal of this is to collate thoughts I would have had on my Tumblr into a cohesive article.
Media
I want to restructure the way I write this section to reflect my growing need to stop quantifying the art I consume. My habit is to reduce what I watch, read, and listen to to numbers that don’t reflect my enjoyment of the content. It’s a feeling that results in anxiety and stress more often than it pays off, so I’m following through on my resolution to step away. I hope that the lack of lists and presence of more genuine connection to the art I love is a positive thing, but I can’t imagine how it wouldn’t be.
My favourite book I read this month was Swann’s Way by Marcel Proust. When I had finished, I ordered the next two volumes as soon as I could. I quickly fell in love with Proust’s lyrical prose, his meaningful digressions on what it means to be a person and to remember, and his intoxicating construction of character and setting. I now plan to read as much of In Search of Lost Time as I can get through this year. Another book I loved was the original version of Ariel, composed in the way Sylvia Plath intended. I adore the tidal force her poems exert—the collection has become my new favourite. Towards the end of the month, school-related stresses and my decreasing ability to concentrate meant I read much less than I wanted to, and I want to rectify that for March. My goal is to finish a collection of Pushkin’s prose, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, Resurrection by Leo Tolstoy, and Within a Budding Grove by Marcel Proust. Last March, writing a list of what I wanted to get through was quite useful as far as completion went.
I watched no films this month (although I half paid attention to the travesty that was Camila Cabello’s Cinderella on a forced family movie night), but I did get through seasons three to five of Gilmore Girls. The show is an absolute delight. I find it funny, uplifting, and a good distraction from bad days. Some of my favourite episodes have been They Shoot Gilmores, Don’t They?, Raincoats and Recipes, and You Jump, I Jump, Jack. Rory Gilmore is my favourite character, and her shifting narrative—especially her moments of academic struggle—have been relatable and inspiring to watch. (In terms of her boyfriends, I’m a staunch Jess defender.) I’m excited to finish the show! The new season of The Marvellous Mrs. Maisel has been equally as entertaining as the previous three, and I’m hopeful that it will finish on the same strong note it started on. I only managed half the second season of Dollface, but I plan to knock out the last couple episodes on my break next month.
Now, what would a discussion of this month in music be without mentioning Mitski’s Laurel Hell? This album was everything I hoped it would be, and is my current favourite album of the year. Her clever lyrics, beautiful production, and impressive sense of aesthetic make this album an absolute win for me. My favourite songs include The Only Heartbreaker, Should’ve Been Me, and Valentine, Texas. If you don’t have time to listen to the entire work, I would recommend giving these tracks a chance. I was also superbly excited to witness the return of one of my favourite bands: Florence and the Machine. King is a beautiful song, and I’m looking forward to the album release.
Personal
Every month I tell myself I’m going to try being less stressed out and every month I manage to become more stressed out. I wonder if I can broker a bargain with the universe and say i’m going to become more anxious, only to relax for once in my life. I will have my physics test mark returned soon, and I have already had three nightmares about failing. I think the key to this is putting together a more cohesive study schedule, spending less time on the phone, and working to ensure that the sick feeling in my stomach goes away because I know I did all I could. I’m not exactly flunking, but I don’t think I’m reaching my potential in a lot of ways. Part of that has to be attributed to my constant state of stress.
Speaking of which—I apply to university this year. It’s not for a couple months now, but it is coming up. For the vast majority of my life, I have had a plan for what I want to do. In the third grade, I wanted to do a degree in geology and become a geologist. Subsequently I wanted to be a psychologist, then a forensic psychologist, then a lawyer, then a maths professor… and now I want to hide under my bed. I’ve never let go of wanting to move to London and go to university, but I don’t know what that looks like. I know I don’t have to have it figured out, but I want to devote March in no small part to exploring my options.
I haven’t written fiction all month, but I’ve continued to write for this newsletter and dabble in some poems. I also managed to send my second novel to someone other than my best friend (I sent it to my boyfriend, who is still around, and I am shocked by that). However, I have big aspirations for next month. I want to start working on my sixth poetry collection, continue weekly newsletters, and make further contributions to the school paper. I’ve had my eye on some journalism programs, and now is the time to see what I want to do with my life.
I’ve mentioned previously that I feel the pandemic has robbed me of a lot of prototypical teenager experiences. Well, I doubled my parents’ phone bill by spending over two thousand minutes on calls this month, so I can cross that one off my metaphorical list. This is why ‘spend less time on the phone’ is a flashing red hope I have moving forward. Like a prayer, I will repeat my aspirations for March: read the books on my list, study more, spend less time on the phone, be less anxious, and write. They’re not bad dreams.
Future
This month will bring the tenth issue of nowhaunting. I encourage all of you to share questions you may have for me in the comments of this post or in an email—I will include those I receive in an addendum to the post for March 9th! (If I receive no questions, this never happened). I want to continue writing newsletters once a week and update my about page to reflect the frequency of my missives. Thank you to anyone who has read this far, and I hope you have a lovely month to come.