This January was a tough one, and I don't have a good track record with this month to begin with. I visited my childhood friend in Kingston and snuck into her classes at Queens, pretending to learn about geography while I made moodboards and sipped bland herbal teas. They set me up in Ryan’s studio, I would fall asleep among strip lights and symbols and wake up from nightmares. Something heavy has been sitting on my chest for I want to say months, but know I mean years. I haven't been able to locate it, name it, but every morning of January when I open my eyes it’s just a little heavier and a little harder to keep on pretending. I’m calling my lawyers like I'm not on the verge of a tears, when will my work visa come through? ‘When will you be back in New York?’ is a question I am too exhausted to keep answering, especially since I do not know the answer. I traveled to Montreal to film a few of my friends shows while she toured, and ended up ending a 6 year relationship from the bed in my tiny Airbnb. I’ll remember the green of those sheets for the rest of my life. My friends said kind things to me while I sobbed myself to sleep. I went to museums and churches and book stores and vintage stores to distract myself but mostly I let the weight settle in, giving up - knowing for this moment that I am going to be completely crushed.
