The girl I was at the start of this month versus the girl I am now, on May 29th, the day I am writing this, are two different people. I want to say this is a good thing. I feel very alive right now, and very at home in myself. I also feel more alone, but in an optimistic and expansive way. That kind of you’re-on-your-own feeling that’s less self pitying and more… dripping in possibility. Good things, good things. I’m writing to you from New York City. It’s one of my favorite places on the planet - probably why i’m in such a good mood.
It has been a packed month, which will be remembered mostly for its indulgences (a very Taurus thing to lean into during Taurus season). I found myself in Hawaii for three days, another one of my favorite places on the planet, just exploring the island with someone I love very much, plunging in the water any chance I got, eating as much poke as my stomach could handle (I’m a snob and refuse to eat poke anywhere else in the world) and visiting multiple tattoo parlors. My weeks at home in LA were full of studio sessions (and cover art photo shoots…AHHHHHH), soup meditation nights hosted by my friend, and a loooooot of opting out of plans to have self care nights.
I did a lot of putting myself first in a borderline selfish way, and I truly hope nobody was negatively affected by it - I don’t think I’ve done much damage, I’ve just needed to replenish my energy - that sounds very LA of me to say, I know. But I’m ending this month having made decisions that allow me more room to be my truest self, and explore what’s possible in the realm of my personal existence, independent from the influence of even some of my closest relationships.
I visited the Whitney Museum today in Greenwich Village. Just strolled around silently. I wrote this in my notebook while looking at one of the exhibits - I figured I'd share it:
In moments of physical silence and solitude I feel most connected to the human race. It’s always been like this for me, but I’ve never understood why. Sitting here now at this art gallery though I think I get it.
Surrounded by art born out of the times where an artist’s only company is their most private, persistent thoughts, I feel justified in my loneliness. As if it is the most correct, most natural thing to feel. Through my experience of loneliness I become another knot in the woven net of humanity. I belong to centuries of the same experience; facing oneself, staring into our own shaded portrait, feeling desperately by ourselves. How strange and comforting to know I’ve never been alone in that feeling. It’s a dimly lit path softened by billions and billions of footprints. I’m not the only one walking it even now, I’ve just had blinders on.
It’s guaranteed that I am never alone in my loneliness.
It’s yours too, it’s everyone’s.
See u in June.
HAPPY GEMINI SEASONNNNNNNNN
-Ash
