July Is So Over

Originally posted August 2nd 2023

Over the weekend, I spent a lot of time with my family. It’s odd having all the siblings in one city and my parents visiting often. We sat at the dining table in my apartment playing scrabble while waiting for a Chinese takeaway to arrive. I took several pictures on my Polaroid camera that my dad got me for my 18th birthday, knowing how rare these gatherings have been over the last 15 or so years. I played host, making drinks and bringing out the cheeseboard. I really love hosting, wandering off to the kitchen, hearing others talk and laugh in the other room. There is something to that feeling. An ease.

On Sunday, we went to the market in the park. My dad and I sat on a bench watching the light on the trees change. We talked about attention. He just finished reading Jenny Odell’s How to Do Nothing, and now he’s trying to implement its lessons. We considered bird watching, or how it’s more bird listening. There was a bird on the fire escape the other day with glittering red feathers, I think it was a Red Crossbill. I showed my dad the pictures I took of it on my phone. It was unusual given pigeon and mourning doves tend to be the only birds we see around the city. Their cooing calls me over to my window to have a look at them. I must move slowly as to not scare them.

We discussed John Berger and cultural perspectives of art. Questioning what it really means for a piece of art to have any importance. This discussion, as deep or philosophical as it got, was continuously disrupted by passing dogs. Our attention being pulled back into real life. We got off the bench and went to buy flowers.

The end of July is always exciting because it means exactly one month until my birthday. I turn 29 this year which is weird to think about. The final year of my 20s. I’ve always said I think my 30s will suit me better than my 20s. I’ve never been someone of youthful inclinations. But, perhaps when I’m older I’ll realise how young I am now. That’s always the way isn’t it?

It’s funny thinking back to what I used to think my life would be like. As a teenager I thought “27 is a good age to get married, 28 for the first kid.” My teenage self set up some high expectations but they were more fantasies than a life. I’m going into 29 much more level headed than I was going into 28. 28 sucked to be honest. But it’s been a lot of hard work, some of it is already paying off. I quit drinking for 6 months and now have a beer once every few weeks. I haven’t been drunk since September. Quit smoking all together, going on 10 months now. I’m a bit more confident around the kitchen. I’m learning how to take care of myself. 28 started out quite rough but it’s ending much more optimistically.

I have never enjoyed my birthday but maybe this year I’ll actually put some effort into having a nice time. Maybe I’ll be brave and go to the cinema, I would like to see Ira Sachs’ Passages. If the weather allows it maybe I’ll just go lay in the park and read all day, paint a little with music blasting in my room, call a friend. I don’t want to sulk about getting older, I looked too long at my forehead the other day and remembered it does not matter.

I’ve been feeling like an imposter looking into jobs and art/writing applications. Feeling unworthy of any club. But I don’t know, the more I think about it, having room to learn is important. If you knew everything you’d be bored. It’s just hard to implement that kind of thinking in the thick of it.

I’ve been looking at spreadsheets of bookshop costs, insurance terms and conditions, realising I need more than twice the amount of money I originally thought. Wondering if I’m even cut out for it. I think you have to have an insane amount of determination and confidence. How would a non-workaholic like me manage? I talked to my best friend who opened his own business at the beginning of this year, who does have faith in me to do it too, about logistics. He thinks I should move back out to California to do it. I want to go back to Ireland but I’d have to sleep in the shop since there’s nowhere to live. I’m flip-flopping on the name. I’m flip-flopping on place. I’m flip-flopping on the idea itself. But not because I don’t want to do it, just because I’m scared. Being scared isn’t the worst thing in the world.

I’m worried that this substack has become naval gazing. I intended for it to be a place for me to talk about books and film, which I do, but it’s also turned into a public diary. I don’t know how I feel about this. On one hand, it’s fine, given I don’t get out much it makes sense that the subject of my writing would be myself, on the other hand I worry it makes me over-analyse everything. I think introspection is good in small doses, because it can take over. Everything becomes subject to scrutiny. I don’t know if all this self-reflection is good when it’s the only thing I do. Need to get out of my head a bit. I can always tell I’m not doing well if I haven’t read a book or watched a film in a while, because I haven’t turned off the Enya brain train. In my head, it’s a thousands miles per hour, connecting the dots of how things relate to each other, over analytical opinions of conversations, self-consciousness (the real killer). I have to find a healthy way of getting it all to slow down. And maybe then I can focus on something else.

I was washing radishes in the sink as the radio played Roy Orbison’s Only the Lonely. It’s always a little funny to me, feeling lonely doing mundane tasks. Loneliness isn’t a looming threat, just a thing that’s there. I scrubbed the dirt off those little pink orbs and cut them thinly before throwing them into an ice bath. I wondered if someone asked if they could help would I even want them there? Do I prefer this kitchen alone? Where I can stretch out and move around without bumping into anyone, answering to no one. Then the radio switched to Orbison’s cover of Bye, Bye Love, a song that for some reason my father performed at his wedding (parents are still married, so I guess it’s fine?). I thought, like love, loneliness is simultaneously the most human and silliest thing in the world.

Thank you for reading,

Enya xx

About Looking by John Berger-A series of Berger essays I’d been meaning to get to. There is always a satisfying clarity to Berger’s writing. I often compare Berger and James Baldwin in their talent for what I would describe as cleanliness in the text (no fluff, no filler but not barren). There is a preciseness that is rare in writing, there is no need to over complicate or talk down to. I would always recommend Berger for those interested in art history and theory, and even if you’re not, he’s a good enough writer to get you to care.

Lapvona by Ottessa Moshfegh- This is my first foray in Moshfegh’s work, having fallen in love with the cover when the proofs were sent out last year. She’s got a good sense of humour, reminded me of the tone of The Lobster (2015) directed by Yorgos Lanthimos. To say all the characters are awful I feel undercuts the novel. I think to say “all the characters are awful but you want to see what happens” is a cheap way people talk about stories that don’t offer a clear moral message. I’m guilty of it myself, but it’s lazy. I got through the book in about a day, I was enchanted by the land of Lapvona and the characters within it. Can I describe as book as sour? Because sour is a flavour some love and some hate, it can be sweet or bitter or rancid. You can enhance a dish or wreck it. I can see a lot of people hating this book, but it is no fault of the writing. I understand the Moshfegh craze now. It reminded me of Sayaka Murata’s Earthlings, despite being very different books, they feel like cousins who chat shit in the kitchen at Christmas. This might be a contender for favourite book of the year.

Self Portrait in Green by Marie Ndiaye (translation by Jordan Stump)-A lovely short gut punch of a book. I read it on a rainy Monday morning, whilst construction went on, and it felt like the perfect setting. There’s no plot but it never feels aimless or lost, some authors overindulge in that their book aren’t going anywhere, while for Ndiaye the point is that the story is more similar to real life. There’s not an answer, some things will just hang in the air forever.

Last of the Mohicans (1992)- This is a film I’ve seen many times, it’s one of the movies my dad would put on and fall asleep. Having gone to upstate New York where the story is based at the beginning of the month, I had the main theme stuck in my head for several days after until I relented and rewatched the movie. I always forget that it’s mainly a love story but the film is also fairly unconcerned with it at the same time. As a child I always thought the Mohican characters, Uncas (Eric Schweig) and Chingachgook (Russel Means), were much more prominent but now as an adult I realise they have maybe 5 lines between them. The soundtrack by Trevor Jones and Randy Edelman is the main reason I keep coming back to this film over and over. Boisterous strings as Daniel Day-Lewis runs through the mountains of North Carolina, where the film was shot, will always be an enjoyable watch.

A Serious Man (2009)- I’ve seen this film a couple times. I had a roommate who became obsessed with it last year and he would watch clips on his phone while having a cup of tea at home for like a week straight after watching it. It’s a delightful film. Delightful for those who think Coen brother movies are funny rather than bleak. It might become one of those movies I watch once a year until oblivion. The existentialism makes it very rewatchable.

Master Gardener (2022)- It’s like Paul Schrader (the writer/director) thought “Why don’t I remake my film First Reformed but not as good”. I think he is too attached to the woman enters closed off mans life and changes it for better or worse story. It felt lacking in direction. Not bad, but I just kept thinking of First Reformed while watching it.

The Colour of Pomegranates (1969)- A visual masterpiece, it’s a wonderful poetic interpretation of a poets life. Rather than rely on formula or conventional storytelling, they made the fantastic decision to approach the story like a poem. It makes sense given that the film is based on the life of the Armenian poet Sayat-Nova. I’d seen screenshots of the movie all over the internet but knew nothing else about it. I will warn anyone who wants to watch it there is a surprising amount of actual animal death.

Cold War (2018)- I really loved this movie. I remember a few years ago, my aunt was studying it as part of her university course and she kept telling me to watch it. Finally, on a cloudy July afternoon I decided it was the time. I hope at some point a local cinema decides to show it because it is STUNNING. I need to see it on the big screen. A very special movie.

There Will Be Blood (2007)-I’d put off seeing this film because of a friend in middle school who would constantly go “I drink your milkshake! sluurrrrp I drink it up!” and out of spite I decided to pass on it. Beyond that quote and “I’ve abandoned my boy!” I knew very little about the film. I knew it had to do with oil and that’s it. A great thing about the film is I wasn’t waiting for those iconic quotes, I was along for the ride. And because it is a western it was automatically in my favour. It’s really a fantastic film but did not beat out Phantom Thread as my favourite Paul Thomas Anderson film. I have a feeling I’m going to watch it again before the year ends.

Dirty Dancing (1987)-When I bought this on DVD for two bucks the guy at the register who owns the place said “I know someone who watches this every year….my wife” in a way both weary and loving. I can understand the films charm, it’s fun but takes itself seriously. There’s a god damn dance party at the end and everyone is happy. It’s cheesy and sincere and that’s what I like enjoyed about it.

Stardust (2007)- I remember quite liking this film but upon rewatch I don’t think it’s for me anymore. But I’ll give it credit for being so earnest, it’s a sweet preteen type film, ya know?

Master and Commander (2003)- I think I watch movies like this when I’m needing a sense of comfort. A good ol’ naval war film to put the mind at ease, haha. It’s a very good film and great use of Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major. (Now I’m wondering if I just really like historical films that reuse one really good song over and over?).

Solaris (1972)-I finally got around to watching Andrei Tarkovsky’s sci-fi classic. The film is a near 3 hour long contemplation on humanity and the limits of human knowledge. Or more so, what we’re willing to understand. Tarkovsky’s direction is always beautiful with an overall eeriness.

Persona (1966)-Knew nothing about this film besides it being directed by Ingmar Bergman. I really enjoyed his film Wild Strawberries so I was optimistic going into this. It was a very different film but still noticeably Bergman. I think one issues of the film is because of what has become cliché since its release, no fault of its own, in regards to storytelling. But the acting is superb and it’s overall a very good movie.

Albums on repeat:

Roach by Miya Folick

Heaven is a Junkyard by Youth Lagoon

Dogsboy by Model/Actriz

This is Why by Paramore