I am not entirely sure where my future as a writer is going to go, like everything now I feel like no one has control over anything. Ignoring the global pandemic-I really hope I get into a fully-funded MFA creative writing program for the 2021-2022 school year. I really want to dive into my poetry more so and really try to maintain a writing schedule. I’d like to try and write weekly and focus on editing my poems for my grad school application, which is going to be my main focus and consume my life for the next year. I really want to get into a program and spend the next 2-3 years focusing on my creative writing and focus on how to combine that writing with my photography. I want to become more interdisciplinary and really hone into my two crafts and merge them together and find a healthy medium zone that I can create and love to create. I am hopeful for the future even if it’s uncertain. I hope I can maintain a writing schedule and even when it gets hard to keep going.

Since the beginning of this class… I have had an idea of what I wanted to do for our first “free reign” project or final project. I have been trying to incorporate my photography and poetry together for the past couple months, and so far I am really enjoying what I am creating. I propose that I am going to take 5 photographs that I have taken recently, or take during this project (obviously on FaceTime or Zoom because of social distancing) and write poems about the photos, and display them in a diptych format. I prefer for my photography to be a more “commercial/fine-art” style. I like to emphasize a street wear/fashion photography style and have models that know how to pose. I select the outfits/makeup/styling/props/background/accessories, etc. THEN, my poems coordinate with the same tone/feeling/vibe of the image are written after I take the photos, and displayed along side of them. I think a zine format would be a great way to display these images. In my head, my photos are the more “commercial” but still fine art, but stylistic and physical formal element of my creative work, where as the words/poems are the creative, emotional, and non-physical aspects of the work. I am excited about this final product!

To me, in some way everything is ethical. That’s why laws exist. None of these methods we used in this class were “unethical” for me, just maybe more unconventional, or pushed me slightly out of my comfort zone. Observation and interviewing are the easiest for me, for sure. Humans are constantly observing, I love observing other people. “People watching” I would consider one of my actual hobbies when I’m out relaxing in public at a park, etc. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a curious or noisy individual, but there’s something pleasant about watching other people. Then I think about how people see me. It’s a very introspective experience. Interviewing is also very fun for me. I love asking people “deep” questions, examining their mannerisms, speech patterns, body language, common words they use, how they stutter, etc. I think it’s all very unique to each individual and that’s why it’s so interesting. No two people really speak and answer questions in the same way. For me, interviewing someone face to face while recording it so I can go back for exact wording is the most fruitful. You have multiple sources to look back on, your memory, the recording, the other person, and it’s the most rewarding.

Where it gets a little dicey for me is eavesdropping and being a physical presence. During interviewing someone or “people watching” I have no problem being a physical presence in that situation because I am supposed to be there, or it’s a public space and I’m allowed to be there. When I’m eavesdropping it feels wrong, but if people are talking loud enough I feel like it can’t be wrong because they know I’m there to some extend. I always catch myself subconsciously eavesdropping on peoples conversations next to me in cafes, classrooms, restaurants, and I’m not sure why I do it. Maybe I just think everything is interesting? Interrupting a specific scene of group of people because I was eavesdropping and inserting my physical presence in that group is what I am least comfortable with. Maybe if we are all at the same concert, gallery opening, student club event, friends house party, etc, I feel more because we have a shared experience. But going up to a random family at Target and joining their conversation as a social experiment premise is a little unethical to me, weird, and if I were them I would hate that.

Unwriting Borders: Latinx Poets in the US Virtual Live Event

            Woodland Pattern had its first ever virtual live Zoom poetry reading event on April 4^th, 2020. I have attended several Woodland Pattern events in person in the past, as well as participated in one of their 24-hour poetry reading events. This event is part of an ongoing series focusing on Latinx poets. I am currently enrolled in a Latinx literature course, so I was immediately intrigued with tonight’s line up of poets and topics.

            I found it interesting how this is Woodland Patterns first online poetry reading and performance event. After COVID-19 passes, I think it will be fascinating to see how many organizations continue to provide online resources and events such as this one. Obviously, going to an in-person even is the most engaging and beneficial, but for some people due to health conditions, location, or family situations cannot always attend what they want. For me, any online platform seems like a good alternative option as oppose to not participating in an event like this at all.

            The zoom presentation went smoother then expected. The poets were able to share their screens with the viewers, which was a great capability. At the peak of the performance there was 36 individuals watching the featured artists. As a viewer, I had the option to have my camera on during the event, but when one clicked on the zoom link, the individual microphone and camera were turned off automatically. I chose not to have my camera on, as did about half of the audience members.

            José Felipe Alvergue is a poet and a prose writer, and I found this especially exciting because I am thinking of trying to get into writing more prose in general, along with my poetry. The individual introducing Alvergue said his work is, “heavy and episodic, focusing on building anticipation”. His work is also about, “the disjointed and fragmented land that is marginalized and removed by bodies of white reality”. After hearing a few of his pieces, I can agree with that statement.

            When Alvergue was reading his prose pieces, we had accompanied images that corresponded with the words he was saying. As a viewer, I could tell he had done a lot of research on the topics he writes about, and that he is passionate about them. In the beginning of his presentation he commented on the fact that he could recognize some of the names of the people in the Zoom call, and that in reality they were only a 3-5-minute car ride from each other, yet here we all were, online. That was an interesting moment.

            One of the things that Alvergue said during one of his prose readings stuck out to me, “between the 19^th and early 20^th centuries states declaring themselves ‘too impoverished to maintain prisons and prisoners’ would release convict labor to railway and contract mining companies or large plantations, the practice became prevalent following the civil war”. Alvergue uses this information as a setup to his prose and main points he is trying to get across as an artist. And he does it in a really good way, I think. He goes on to talk about how children’s hands have built America and its commerce. After this he explains that children aren’t meant to build these things, and their bodies aren’t capable to understand what they are doing, or what the end goal is. He states, “all of the research that is the physical world of a childs body, this is all a lost opportunity for a new language, for educating parenthood, all unknown scenery”. His ideas are thought provoking, and all of the viewers who had their cameras turned on, were taking notes, like I was, or nodding their heads, or maintaining eye contact, even if no one was looking back at them. Overall it was a cool new experience in the poetry and prose world that I got to experience. I hope more organizations choose to keep having these events during the pandemic we are currently living through.

Stephanie, 20

*nervous laughter*

“Well… when the pandemic started I was studying abroad in Japan…and because of the virus I got sent home so my life got disrupted in Japan and in the US…”

“But…you know just like everybody else I lost my job that I had…my volunteer opportunity for the summer, that sort of stuff…and now that I’m home I’m in quarantine and I can’t really do anything but my 14-days is over tomorrow but I can’t really do anything because of the stay at home order, I can’t really go out anyways…”

“So…umm…”

*silence*

“It’s a lot of…”

*silence*

“Nothing. Umm…”

*nervous laughter*

“It’s effected my…well like the…I guess it hasn’t effected my fellowship…but like originally I was supposed to have spring semester and my classes in Japan, but those hadn’t started yet…”

“So getting my classes figured out and this term was kind of a mess but it ended up working out…so…umm…yeah!”

*nervous laughter*

As I walked down the dimly lit hallway, the beige pink walls followed my every step. It was as if the light fixtures in the apartment building had not been changed as long as I had been alive on the planet. When I reached her door I hesitated, I had not seen her since my last family Christmas meal, which was eight years ago. It was the last one for a reason. I was so young and naive back then. After two full sets of aggressive knocks she finally opened the door. I still don’t know why she decided to let me interview her for a school project.

Once the door was open a few inches I could smell the stale air she breathed in everyday. Low and behold a cigarette dangled within her reach, dimly lit. She was a different level of boujee and held her cigarette with an old 1920’s cigarette holding stick so her fingernails weren’t damaged. I thought it was ironic she cared about her fingernail health but not her lungs regarding smoking.

Maybe it was the smoking that aged her, or it was her literal age, I’m still not sure. The wrinkles around her eyes never fully disappeared, even when she frowned. I assumed I was about to find out about her full-life, but I could already see the physical wears and tears. Not in a bad way, I always thought women aged beautifully, even if society told them they couldn’t, she found a way to.

The first question I asked her prompted an interesting response, “back in my day, we could not go a day without wearing pantyhose. If a woman wore her pantyhose with the seam twisted or sideways we assumed she was a whore”.

Okay, maybe she wasn’t the ideal candidate for modern day feminism, but she was eighty-seven, what could you really expect? She talked in a way that let you know that she knows what she knows. Even with her spine decompressing, she tried to have perfect posture, her orthopedic shoes perfectly flat on the grey carpet floor. Each additional question dragged on and on, I’m not sure she ever fully answered any of them. By the end of the interview she had filled two ashtrays with ash that her fingertips never touched.

*Sorry for posting this late. I got very sick Thursday evening, and I am just starting to recover. I went to the doctor Friday and am waiting back on test results regarding influenza.

At this point, in 2020, zines are no longer a counter-culture physical item. They can and are often digitized, which is great in this modern age. Even popular musicians such as Kanye West have one! With zines being so accessible, the topics range and vary. “The first zine is often traced back to a 1930s effort by the Science Correspondence Club in Chicago. It was called The Comet, and it started a long-lasting trend of sci-fi related zines”. This is according to the website, “Mentalfloss.com”.

Zines have officially been around for almost 100 years, and today they are going strong. I mean, I’m in a class about zines and DIY publishing and am getting college credit for it. I wish that this English 414 class was more “radical” in regard to teaching and implementing zine culture and history. There is a caveat to that though, because can you even “teach” radically, especially in an institution that is despised by it? I think you can, it’s a good first step.

According to the same website, “In the ‘70s and ‘80s, the main hub of zine culture became the punk scene in London, LA, and New York”. To me, this is the most fascinating part of zine culture. The counter-culture of it all is interesting. It has a purpose, a reason, and a feeling. They are often vulgar, angry and make certain groups of people uncomfortable. In my opinion this is how they should be. I do not see a purpose of writing zines that are just “fantasy” or have no inherent personal, social or political meaning. I don’t believe all zines have to be incredibly depressing or sad, I think that social issues can be framed in a comedic or satirical way. It does not have to be boring, but it should be meaningful.

I plan on changing the title again maybe, working with it. I like the bedframe idea but I also may call it something like, “Tinder Troubles” or something with Tinder in the title? I also want to make sure each small story has Tinder tied into it somehow, I think I missed that in one or two of them. I like the idea of making all the story about one girl and a guy…but I also like the many different names because that is kind of my point, that this “thing” that is: guys not knowing how to decorate or have good communicational skills when it comes to relationships and sex in general, happens to a lot of people. This is not just one sad story of an unlucky girl, this happens to many people, half of my girlfriends have had stories almost exactly like these happen to them. That’s what makes it so relatable. It is a similar and slightly predictable formula, but I am trying to drive across a point without being boring.

Pg. 3:

            It had been seven months, five days, and thirty-one minutes since Louise had texted her ex-boyfriend, Corey. She was in a serious dry spell. Tinder never seemed appealing. To her, it just looked like cesspool of shirtless horny men. As the little blue circle spun around while she waited for it to download, all of the potential bad first date possibilities soared through her head. When she opened up the fiery red application, she was bombarded photo after photo with guys holding dead animals and torso shots with no head just abs. Even though the application had only been opened for twenty minutes, the weird pick-up lines had already started…

*insert one of the pickup lines here*

I plan on adding a creepy message/pickup line after every small vignette. I am going to keep the one epigraph at the front of the zine and the same one at the end, and then disperse the messages after each section. I changed the first character/intro girl to be more obviously straight, because that is the narrative I am playing on/slightly critiquing here.

While bumming around the Brevity website, I chose to look at the more current published nonfiction pieces, because I like looking at things that are relevant. I found a piece titled, “160 Things That Scare Me” by Jill Kolongowski published January 17th, 2020.

This piece stuck out to me for several reasons. The first reason being the sheer number of things that supposedly scare people that helped write this piece. It shows how humans are scared of so so much, it made me feel more normal. I also love the idea of collaboration at the college academic level. The fact that this piece was written by people ages 18-32 is really beautiful. No matter what ages everyone has similar fears. The flow of the piece is very fun to read. I also was stressed out reading it because I kept reading it faster and more existential. The bad stuff never ended it just kept going and going, it started on fear and ended on fear. I like how it starts as a more paragraph format with a list style, then just a list, and then back to a paragraph esq. style. This made the piece have an interesting structure. I relate to this work immensely because I have great fears, not 160, but I have never counted them up. Another thing in regard to reliability is the fact that I could do a similar piece with all of my peers in a certain class, or my student organization. The structure is accessible and relatable. I like how on Brevity, people can comment on the pieces, and the commenters range in age and gender, but everyone is always so moved by the work. It’s nice to see other people appreciate good art and writing.

1. Objects chosen: a jar of thumbtacks, an empty Pabst beer can, an extra Macbook Pro Charger, and a first aid kit.
2. The jar is clear and see through just like the thumbtacks it holds inside of it. The tacks are several inches high, around three, layered around each other and climbing over each other. Each tack has a small silver sword attached to it as if it is going to need to defend itself at any moments. Few things in the world are as sad as an empty beer can, especially Pabst, it’s not even that good! It lays there, on a concrete step, laying on its side half-crumpled and pathetic. The silver outside glitters using the light coming in from a near-by window. An extra Macbook Pro Charger lays across my bedroom floor plagued by its own existence. The long white coord-that is somehow still never long enough for wherever I need it go to, is beyond tangled. When is it ever not tangled? The cord is not solid white, after having it for several years there are black smudges all over it, from what I do not know. It does not get used that much, as it is my extra cord, how does it get so dirty? An old-fashioned white metal first aid kit sits on the wall in a cold corner of my garage. It is about ten inches across and six inches tall. The latch on the top is half-rusted off and impossible to open. The outside of it has a sticker that reads, “Meets OSHA requirements for industry”. Thank God I was nervous. Wouldn’t want OSHA arresting my parents.
3. i. Every time I get a paper-cut I reach for the stark white square first aid kit sitting in the corner of my garage, mounted on a wall, hardly letting any light touch it. It is dark and dingy over there. The latch on this first aid kit is rusty, is that not an oxymoron? I am going to need medical attention after turning to this box of help for medical care. There are no tetanus shots in this box!
4. ii. As Chad sits in his living room for the third night alone in a row, with his second Pabst beer of the night, he begins to question some of his life choices. He was in college, everyone goes to college to drink! Who cares about school anyways. The half empty silver beer can sits in his hands. Somehow they always becomes half crumpled every time he starts to drink them.