Making sense of the mess
July transitions and reflections
July 2024 marked a big moment of transition in my life — in work and career, sense of self, worldview, the whole mile.
July 1st was my last day as a Creatives Rebuild New York teaching artist at The W.O.W. Project (W.O.W.), where I’ve spent the last 4 years in what feels like a bit of a Chinatown-colored fever dream.
Manhattan Chinatown is a unique environment that demands to be taken in with all six senses — bursting at every seam with relentless, resilient life.
Commuting to and from Chinatown almost every day encouraged me to carve out my preferred path to/from the train, snaking past all my favorite spots and personal landmarks. I liked to go in the early morning, making my way to work alongside carts of cabbages and bags of rice.
I sorely miss the 肠粉 (rice roll) cart on the corner of Baxter and Walker Streets, where Ms. Mei served up my favorite tea eggs and curry fish balls. I carried these in a thoughtfully double-bagged parcel on my way to Sweets Bakery, to pick up a steamed pork & napa cabbage bun to share with my dear friend & colleague, Lorraine. I’d pass by the produce shop on the corner of Bayard and Mott, whose name I actually don’t know, hoping to catch a glimpse of their cats. One is thin, black, and exceedingly handsome. The other is a densely-patterned tortie shaped like an egg, whose eternally displeased expression never fails to make me laugh.
Arriving at W.O.W. was always a breath of fresh air (and in the summers, a breath of fresh A.C.). Gary or San would open the door, and I’d go straight to the kitchen to drop my bags and settle into breakfast before the work day began.
Before arriving at 26 Mott Street for the first time almost 4 years ago, I already knew that I loved to make things, tell stories, and connect with others through the stuff I made. But at W.O.W., I got to practice being an artist working for/with a community — learning about how my work and self are inherently political, regardless if I was aware or prepared.
Simply by being who I am and making the work that I make, I’m a part of this place and its history. What power and responsibilities come with that?
Despite my deep love for this work, it was emotionally and intellectually challenging stuff, and sometimes I got tired, sometimes I got scared. It was overwhelming at times, trying to make sense of things that felt far too interconnected and complicated to sort through in one person’s soul.
Luckily, I got to practice making work in this tired, scary, complicated world — in the safety of community.
During this time, there was also a lot going on in my personal life — pandemic, income uncertainty, health challenges, prolonged distance from family in China (for better & for worse), grieving the passing of loved ones, wrestling with what I now know to be depression, and some much overdue reckoning with past trauma. In the safety of community, I was able to drag myself to therapy, reshape my relationship with food & exercise & therefore my body, recover from my broken arm, practice relating to others in a way that felt more true to myself — all leading to transformation in almost every aspect of life.
I went into my time at W.O.W. with a lot of fear, loneliness, and self doubt — what am I even doing, making my little things, on this burning earth — and have now perhaps emerged on the other side with just a little less of that.
I think that a wiser part of me knew from the beginning that clarity, courage, connection, and confidence (CCCC?!) could all be found in community, and I threw myself into my work at W.O.W. with a sort of passionate, desperate faith. Thank goodness — the people I met provided a soft landing for a tired little bird who really needed a safe place to lay down and rest.
I had hopes that I would emerge a totally different person — stronger, braver, smarter, kinder. I could develop totally new interests, skills, and relationships that would make me feel more prepared to take on the challenges of the world.
What I’m surprised to find on the other side is actually just a clearer view of what was there all along, and I’ve come away feeling just a little more like myself.
On July 2, I moved into my own studio in Gowanus, Brooklyn — my first official work space outside of home, school, or the office.
On paper, it’s just a 180 sq ft rectangle with a big window, and $1K/month leaving my bank account. But ask any artist, and they’ll tell you what a studio space means to them.
For me, it’s been a life-long dream — one that I decided to start working actively towards about 10 years ago. In these 10 years, I’ve been waiting patiently for someone and something to tell me that it was finally time, working and saving and working and saving until everyone around me was asking — if not now, then when?
Over the last month, I’ve been setting myself and my new studio up for the next season of work. There are some projects I know I’ll be working on, including the 2024 edition of Chores. There are a few projects I’ve been cooking in my brain for awhile now, that I’m finally planning to bring to life. And a few things I’m doing for myself (!!), just for fun.
In the last few years, I’ve been very much in my head and on my computer — spending a lot of energy thinking through things like self, positionality, and place. It was challenging and important for me, and helped stretch my understanding of who I am and what I’m making. Somehow, it also reconnected my head to my body and my hands.
Now, I feel ready to make some stuff — to get back in touch with the material world, test and learn, talk to people, and make things together. To carve out some simplicity within the complexity. Isn’t that the work of a designer? To make good sense of the mess?
Reading:
Worn, Sofi Thanhauser
Fibershed, Rebecca Burgess with Courtney White
The Art and Science of Natural Dyes, Joy Boutrup and Catharine Ellis
Listening to:
“Moves,” Suki Waterhouse
Chappell Roan on repeat
Everything that Kendrick ever made
So proud of you and excited for what you're working on next! Also yay for therapy 🩷 I thought all that talk about becoming an artist = inner child work was complete BS until recently