carrie bradshaw and me

I'm not sure how I found myself glued to the Sex and the City prequel, The Carrie Diaries. I have never watched a full season of Sex and the City, despite enjoying the show every now and then and I had kinda hoped high school-centered narratives didn't relate to my post-school life anymore. But while I was stressed during an exam season I was unexpectedly drawn to yet another upper middle-class, pretty people television series. However, in the midst of my binge, I learned some unexpected life lessons.

Part of The Carrie Diaries takes place in the early 1980s in New York City, characterised at the time by its towering crime rates and rapidly changing understandings of personal identity. The other part of the show's narrative is set in small town Connecticut, where Carrie Bradshaw attends high school. After Carrie's mother dies, her father and the school agree that every Friday Carrie will take the day off in order to carry out an internship at a big Manhattan law firm in exchange for school credit.

But Carrie's own desires deviate from anything that the legal world could fulfil. When cleaning out her mother's clothes and other belongings, Carrie acquires several of her unused journals. Transcribing her thoughts every day, she begins to find her voice and a passion for writing, Manhattan and doing whatever she can to work at Interview magazine, which was founded by Andy Warhol and John Wilcock over a decade earlier in 1969.

On the whole, the largely white, middle class heterocentric focus of the show (there is only one gay side story and token Chinese and African American characters) makes it feel fairly non-challenging and inseparable from similar teen shows that have come before it. But somehow, in the show's two seasons (it was cancelled before a third was made), I found a pocket of advice that struck eerily close to home.

In episode nine of the first season, Carrie’s father, a hot shot turned small town lawyer, feels betrayed when he finds out that Carrie has given up her law firm internship for an internship at Interview. He refuses to let her return and it feels like the matter is closed. But in a twisted circumstance Carrie’s dad finds himself spieling to Larissa, Carrie's boss at Interview, after a game of squash. In my fifth year of studying law, while pursuing writing whenever I am not studying or attending class, this scene felt familiar.

The following conversation takes place:

Larissa remarks that Carrie, "was the best intern I ever had."
[...]
"She had a good internship at a law firm. She wants to be a lawyer, which I am sure you didn't know, you didn't bother to find out," Carrie's dad brashly replies.
"That's rich. Carrie Bradshaw -- a lawyer?"
"Damn straight."
"You have no idea who your daughter is, or what she wants."
"I know she was a good kid before she came to Manhattan. One who had real goals -- not pipe dreams."
"Just because they aren't your dreams doesn't mean they aren't not real, not attainable."
"I know my daughter better than some party girl who values clothing and clubbing. My job isn't to let her go wild, it's to keep her safe."
"No. Your job is to let her become the person she wants to be."
[...]
"I want her to grow up right."
"It's not a matter of right and wrong, it's a matter of who and what she wants to be. She's a hell of a writer, did you know that? [...] She's got a voice, let her use it."

Like Carrie, it is one of my dreams to do interviews, write and work my way up to being an editor. I know a lot of people who have similarly creative ambitions. But I also think a lot of people, me included, have partly internalised Carrie's dad's viewpoint on pursuing something creative as a career. Safety, stability and feeling repelled by the prospects of working impossibly hard to just make ends meet filter my answer every time I am asked what I would love to do after university. I have been scolded repeatedly for not being able to answer that question straight up. But after watching this scene in The Carrie Diaries I am reminded again that every one I admire who is pursuing a creative career has harnessed the associated risks and flourished.

Not all of us can have a person like Larissa vouching for us every time a person scoffs at our career choices. But we can use dialogue like the conversation between Larissa and Carrie Bradshaw's dad to give us confidence. Surprisingly The Carrie Diaries, which is probably geared towards a mainstream teenage audience, directly spoke to me. Nestled in the rom/com's many cliches was a brief conversation that I actually needed to hear.

xx
Lou

happy birthday kane!

Thanks for all the adventures so far. Can't wait to have many more.

xx
Lou

midyear collect

1. When I visited my parents a few weeks ago, they passed on a gift from my Boston godmother. Tied up in gorgeous "found" wrapping were two new pairs of socks and a forty(ish) year old set of tarot cards from her mother.

2. In Auckland I went to Anna Miles Gallery for the first time and fanned over Lucien Rizos' "street photography" work, especially his spontaneous portraits of people driving cars, which he took from the roadside.

3. I was also inspired by the Prestige Lawyers law and consultancy firm who have bases in New Zealand, Taiwan and China. They are playing a super interesting (and totally under the radar) role in connecting China and New Zealand.

xx
Lou

looking back then looking out

Almost at the same time my shampoo finished, this year has too. My days in China are also fast disappearing. Shampoo, the year that's been and my exchange have all led me to reflect a bit.

Extracting myself and taking a wavering step back, I am still uncertain. Immediately, rather than work or school life, I see hurt. Something I have felt throughout the year and have been very slow to come to terms with it. But, after several deep breaths, I can spot something beyond this. The challenges caused by this hurt and the experiences certain changes have led to made me grow as a person in ways I haven't before. They opened doors within my world that I did not know existed - many I am still learning to walk through. My year gave me more (beautiful, forever undeserved) friends to be cared for by and who inspired new curiosities within me. My year brought me closer to the world, although I'm still quite scared of it. It also took me to China - an experience so equally challenging and fascinating that I now somehow have to find a way back here. 

My year also slowly taught me the wonder and terror of being - being both alone and more aware of the crucial idea of "presence." Presence reminds me that the future does not exist and, rather simply, focuses on fully attending each day. 

Crawling back into the entanglement, I end this year with some pain, some confusion but also as a changed person. I end it in awe of the kindness of close family and new and old friends. I also end it with a thankfulness - for all the moments where my curiosity was satisfied and for the incredible, incredible luck and generosity that I have continually encountered. Really, why me?

For next year, I wish for the continued freedom to unravel my curiosities.

Now, wherever you are at, here's to a happy New Year!

xx
Lou

mysterious new year's day

Late December I left my camera behind in a rental car - I was a plane flight away from it before I realised. The loss drove me to the brink of insanity, but over a week later it found its way back to me in the post (...never lose something around Christmas and New Year's). The camera did not appear to be different but I did discover one additional photo (taken early on the first day of the New Year) that was not mine (posted above). Why did the person take the photo? Where was it taken? I will interpret this photo as an open metaphor for what 2014 will involve for me...(haha)...that is all I can do with it.

xx

Lou

good good girl

Good Good Girl is a new feminist website, which is "fully female populated and curated". It is in its early stages yet but I'm excited to see how it will develop. My first contribution to Good Good Girl  is an interview I did with Margi Robertson from NOM*d. I love the motivations behind the website and I can't wait to contribute more!

xx
Lou

summer disappearer

Another year at university is coming to a close and very soon I'll be heading up north to my parents' home where I will spend the summer. My summer plans are vague - I imagine it'll be a very quiet time involving heavy doses of introspection and cyclic thoughts. I will also be thinking about my move to Beijing midway through next year - I am terrified by the idea and exhilarated by it too. Both my summer and my move to Beijing fill me with a deep sense of loneliness but people whom I admire greatly (like James Bertram) have travelled these paths before and have had surreal and inspiring experiences while doing so.

Over the summer Dunedin partially empties due to many of the students returning to their parents' homes. It seems like sunlight and vibrant greens and blues fill the empty spaces that these people leave behind. I often stumble across scenes of unbelievable tranquility - particular to Dunedin - and I will miss that.

Above is a photo I took of my parents' lounge, which they convert into a bedroom for me when my brother and I return home. I often sit late into the night reading and listening through the window to the distorted sounds of the city beyond - cultivating my inner weirdo.

I hope your year is winding down in a pleasant way and you overcome any obstacles you are currently facing!

xx
Lou

poems created due to angst due to exams

Fingers

I feel the cold in my fingers

I feel it in my head

Her cat is dead

Her cat is dead

It died last night

In the garden shed, out of sight.

The cat knew

And you do too

It is getting closer

It’s got its fingers around you.

//

The Thread

It’s snowing backwards

It’s going backwards

You are forgotten, you are forgotten

You are a shrinking stain, you are a blotch -

an unnoticed mark on the cloth of existence

Relevance is undone by one loose thread -

It unravels 

It unravels 

Irrelevance is a pile of string

on the wooden floorboards

To unwind, to unwind

It’s just a matter of time.

//

Eyelids

A room in shadows 

On a blue sky day

Other lives walk back and forth

across the pavement, outside her window

She refuses to let them in

She sits in the shadows

The shadows sit within her

The darkness of the room is etched into the underside

of her eyelids’ skin

Her fingers and toes have no tips,

they are disintegrating - 

forming small piles of ash on the carpet.

She opens her eyes and it was someone else

She opens her eyes and it was someone else.

xx

Lou

congratulations z

It was recently announced that Zane will be Critic's editor for 2014. I'm really excited for what direction he'll take Critic in and the interesting challenges he'll face. What an accomplishment!

xx
Lou

white fungus update

White Fungus at Kadist Art Foundation in San Francisco

Samin Son White Fungus 13 Parade Dairy Island Bay

Today Zane and I interviewed the editor of the fantastic, counter culture magazine called ‘White Fungus’. The editor, Ron Hanson, is based in Taiwan (where he was when we interviewed him) but grew up in New Zealand. The interview will be up on this blog soon. When I meet this kind of person I freak out a bit and can't quite believe such cool people exist. Still buzzin'.

xx
Lou

this trivial world

Picture from here.

Breaking news in the world of conspiracies: The Economist may have copied my Critic feature headline! (Although this is probably not true as the world is a mysterious place). The title of the Economist article which came out today reads: The Emperor's New Pictures. The title of my article which came out a week ago read: The Emperor's New Art. The Economist category title reads: In Praise of Art Forgery...guess it's not the only kind of forgery that's going on... The only other explanation for all this is the cloud of shared consciousness theory. You choose!

xx
Lou

beautiful moments

In the past month I have found myself in a friendship group filled with an array of fascinating people. The group consists of musicians, artists, students, non-students and great, kind personalities. No one is quite sure how it formed and what it means. One of my friends speculated that every member has a kind of darkness or mystery and that's why we're all drawn to each other...but it's hard to actually decipher what's going on.

I know that eventually the group will disappear - two of its members are off to 'make it' as musicians in London and others will finish their dissertations and move home to find work. The entire situation is momentary and fleeting and before I understand what it means to me it suddenly won't exist - or it will have taken on an entirely different form. It's all so bizarre - as I write about other people's nostalgia for the '80s music scene in Dunedin I realise that I too am having experiences that will very soon become experiences I am nostalgic for. What this friendship group has also made me realise, however, is the importance of 'the moment' itself. Among the perpetual chaos and noise of life, truly experiencing the moment gives me a brief, beautiful clarity and I am so thankful for that and the people around me who provide this for me.

xx
Lou

polyamory: fun for you and me and him and her etc

Climbing into a hole and reading my new Critic Magazine feature are two things I may or may not recommend - it all depends on the context. Click here to read my feature on polyamory.

xx
Lou

me on umo on utr

Photo from here.

Guess what! I wrote a gig review on Unknown Mortal Orchestra. Check it here if you're innerrastud. Have a nice night!

xx
Lou

how to float with ruban nielson

I interview with Ruban Nielson from Unknown Mortal Orchestra! The interview was published in Critic and is on Critic's website here.

xx
Lou

am i an island?

Hey all! I have a new feature out for Critic. Now of course you don't have to read it but someone one day may arbitrarily quiz you using questions about my life. Just in case this happens, you can read my feature here and find out some exclusive facts about me. It's best to be prepared.

xx
Lou

vilaine fille, mauvais garçon

When I arrived back in Dunedin I was welcomed home with this surprise - it was kinda fantastic.

xx
Lou

life online - it's a beach

My new feature is out. Be sure to read it here.

xx

Lou

i used to

I just stumbled across some of my old drawings! I miss doing these - it'd be so fun to get back into it.

xx
Lou

tom waits - burma shave

A licorice tattoo turned a gun metal blue scrawled across the shoulders of a dying town
Took the one eyed jacks across the railroad tracks
and the scar on its belly pulled a stranger passing through
He's a juvenile delinquent never learned how to behave but the cops would never think to look in burma shave.

And the road was like a ribbon and the moon was like a bone
he didn't seem to be like any guy she'd ever known
he kinda looked like farley granger with his hair slicked back
she says I'm a sucker for a fella in a cowboy hat
how far are you going he said depends on what you mean
he says I'm only stoppin' here to get some gasoline
And I guess I'm going thataway just as long as it's paved
I guess you'd say I'm on my way to burma shave.

And with her knees up on the glove compartment
she took out her barrettes and her hair spilled out like rootbeer
and she popped her gum and arched her back
hell Marysville ain't nothing but a wide spot in the road
some night my heart pounds just like thunder don't know why it don't explode
cause everyone in this stinking town has got one foot in the grave
I'd rather take my chances out in burma shave.

Presley's what I go by why don't you change the station
count the grain elevators in the rearview mirror
She said, mister anywhere you point this thing
has got to beat the hell out of the sting
of going to bed with every dream that dies here every mornin'
and so drill me a hole with a barber pole
I'm jumping my parole just like a fugitive tonight 
why don't you have another swig and pass that car if you're so brave
I wanna get there before the sun comes up in burma shave.

The spider web crack and the mustang screamed
The smoke from the tires and the twisted machine
Is just a nickel's worth of dreams and every wishbone that they saved
lie swindled from them on the way to burma shave.

And the sun hit the derrick and cast a bat wing shadow
up against the car door on the shot gun side
and when they pulled her from the wreck
you know she still had on her shades
they say that dreams are growing wild just this side of burma shave.

[What I'm listening to on repeat.]

xx
Lou