The First Letter: Narrative Place (Where I’ve Been)
Dear Reader,
How are you? How are you feeling? Where are you as you read this? Personally, I am pretty good. “Good” is vague, so let me explain more:
It is April 16, 2022. I am sitting in a chair, at a rectangular wood table on the third floor of Fondren Library. Fondren is the “public” library at Rice University in Houston. This chair has no arms, only a back, and it is a dark color of wood with a muted blue seat cushion. I don’t know what kind of woods are dark brown. Maybe by the time I’m 30 or something I’ll have some knowledge about wood varieties. It’s weird to imagine myself doing research on a boujee little coffee table or dresser though. I’ll indulge my furniture curiosities later because I am busy writing to you. Anyways, the seat cushion is not just blue, it also has a pattern of connected small circles. Some of the circles are just a brown outline over the muted blue and some of the circles are colored in, either mustard yellow, olive green, light beige, or a darker navy. The lines that connect the circles are not straight, they bend sort of abstractly to form a wiggly grid pattern of small lopsided rectangles. Overall, it’s very 70s. There is a reason I described the chair I sit in right now and I will get to that very soon. Okay, more about me. I am feeling calm right now because I took Adderall about an hour ago and it’s starting to kick in. I have “ADHD”, so don’t worry about the legality of the stimulants because I have a prescription from my psychiatrist. I talk to her office once a month for about five minutes. It costs me fifty five dollars ($55) every time we talk, so I know I’m golden. I am calm, so I am content to be writing for this blog slash letter component of my thesis right now. My friend Mia was sitting across from me like five minutes ago, but she had the flu recently and left this public space. She was concerned that people would feel anxious about her post nasal drip sniffling, so now I am working by myself.
Okay, I am getting close to the point, hang in there. As I have been working on this project, I have been in many different places both physically and emotionally. Sometimes, when I read a paper or book or whatever, I can’t help but think that the author just sat down in one cozy little coffee shop and wrote the whole thing at once. In a way, this assumption can be a good thing, because the words and ideas on the pages feel very connected to a single narrative. Hmm, I think I learned a term called “narrative place” at one point in my high school english classes that could contribute to this.
Alright, I just looked up “narrative place”, and it is a thing! Narrative of place links people and geographic location with a cultural imaginary through literature and visual narration. Ah, that’s perfect for what I am about to get into in this letter! Because of how I am, I struggle to stay organized in a lot of ways. I also occasionally suffer from imposter syndrome that worms its way into my brain and gives me thoughts like “everyone is able to be organized except for me”. But, I intend to incorporate this formerly shameful disorganization into my life in a positive way and take you with me throughout the places and emotions I have been as I was doing this project.
I am about to share with you several short paragraphs that describe the many places and feelings I had as I wrote my anthropology thesis. Using these pieces of experience helps embrace the myth I have in my mind about singular narratives and organization. I was not in any place at once, and my mind is also not in any place at once. My thoughts are bouncing around my brain like a gumball machine and my therapists have always told me how helpful mindfulness exercises can be. I thought I was not “zen” enough to practice mindfulness. But incorporating mindfulness into this project felt simple: I just write three to six sentence paragraphs about my environment (physical and emotional) when I remember to. Each of these paragraphs mark a spot in my blissfully disorganized journey to, from, in, and around a narrative place. Narrative place is liminal and continuous (and that is a good thing).
15 November 2021
I am in Fondren Library, sitting in a chair in the first floor. I am feeling anxious. I feel my heart racing, nervous about people around me. I am thinking about being mindful. I am opening Google to finish my Philosophy shirt essay by organizing sentences. I am being present, typing slowly.
08 December 2021
I am sitting in the “knuckle” on the fourth floor of Brown College in a chair. I am outside facing the door to go inside, it is around eleven at night. I am feeling calmer than I did earlier today, anxious about finals approaching. I am sitting next to Cat who smoked her last bowl of the semester. “I have to take it easy” is what I just thought. I am writing, smoking an American Spirit cigarette. I have to stop smoking cigarettes, nicotine is a stimulant and it is probably making me more anxious.
13 December 2021
I am in Brown, in Gray’s suite, sitting in a black saucer chair. I am waiting for Grace to start drinking wine together after studying all afternoon. I am feeling good, got good work done today! I am proud of myself. I set a boundary and got an extension on my Philosophy essay. I am developing a great friendship with Grace.
22 December 2021
I am in a robin’s egg blue IKEA chair, in Ola’s room :) I am feeling stress, pressure to help out with Christmas, feeling a little out of place. I am going to take some deep breaths. There are many things that “demand” my attention and I am turning my attention inwards. I am writing, beginning my literature review, and listening to Killa Cam by Cam’ron.
26 December 2021
Merry Christmas I have COVID. Feeling absolutely horrendous, laying in bed. I wish it would snow here in New Jersey again. I am going back to sleep by listening to a 12 hour Youtube video of snow falling sounds.
11 January 2022
I am in a red chair with dark cherry arms. I am in the Fine Arts Library, at a table sitting across from Nia. I can feel my heart beat, the spearmint gum in my mouth, the mask under my chin is giving me discomfort. I am taking it off. Feeling now: anxiety about my chin acne. I am reading my second-to-last entry and feeling remnants of fear from that class. I won’t be afraid to check my grades, I’ll do it soon. I am listening to Youth by Glass Animals. I see Lia’s listening activity, she listens to Live Sheck Wes a lot, I love her.
22 January 2022
I am in the miner lounge. I am feeling a bit tired, but content. I am sitting next to Lina. I am drinking hot coffee with milk and sugar. I am listening to music with Canvas open. I am feeling guilty about missing classes today but I needed rest. I owe myself compassion and I do want to learn. Lina cracks her knuckles.
07 February 2022
I am in Fondren again, in the Brown Fine Arts Library. I am in a dark wooden chair with no arms and a hard back. The seat cushion of the chair is a very 70s cornflower blue with shades of olive dots. I am not feeling good.
21 February 2022
I am home, at my desk. I am feeling strange, difficult to pin down where I feel fear and where I feel excitement. I am looking at my suitcase that I have not unpacked from my California trip. I am learning to lean into my nervousness about leaving where I am stuck in my thoughts about this person I like.
02 March 2022
I am in Fondren in a study room. I am eating a green apple that is slightly bruised, I like the sourness of green apples. Not only is my best pen out of ink, but I got so little sleep last night that I am experiencing chest pain. I can feel all the coffee and junk food in my sternum. My back also hurts. I will cope, and I still desire to keep working so I am less stressed. It is not the actual process of writing that is tiring me out. Thank god for this apple, fresh fruit will save me.
17 March 2022
I am home after going to Miami with Gray for spring break. I am sipping lavender chamomile tea. I am feeling growing pains about our relationship, we got into our first fight when we were traveling together. Also, thinking about the role of mindfulness in creativity brings up a lot of inner conflict. I am thinking that some of my best art or creative work was a happy accident.
30 March 2022
I am paying slightly less attention in my Critical Thinking in Sexuality LPAP, because I am writing this mindfulness exercise. I am next to Grace, in a room in the rec where our class is. The room is all windows. The chair I sit in has a leaning back and the chair has black arms that are at least six inches separated from the back of the chair, because I am leaning back in it.
03 April 2022
I am home. I am feeling fear around not being able to finish my homework. I am feeling hopeful that I can be slower. “One thing at a time”, the power of monotasking strikes again.
08 April 2022
I am in a study room with big windows on the second floor of Fondren Library. I am sitting with Lina in a maroon chair. This chair is different from the eight other types of maroon chairs in the library. This one has skinny, half circle metal arms. It has a circular back that also has a one inch plastic border (that is also maroon!) I am feeling like I am capable. Things- most things- are hard. Learning to just do them. I think.
10 April 2022
I am in Brasstacks coffee shop on Live Oak street in Houston. I am sitting in a pink plastic chair, writing this on a wooden chair. I am sitting across from Natty, I am listening to BANKS new album. I smell our breakfast of fries, cheese danish, eggs. I feel calm, ready to connect with my body and intuition, despite this busy coffee shop environment. I am going to pause from writing thesis things and instead reflect on my fears of embracing change. Love for how far you’ve come!
17 April 2022
I am in study room 452 on the fourth floor of Fondren Library. I am sitting in a bright blue spinny chair with black arms and a flexible back. I am sitting across from Mia, who still is sniffly from the flu. I am thinking about finishing up my thesis. I fear that it’s not going to be finished in time. I feel inspired, too, because I have so many more questions to explore, I don’t want to be done working on this.
Of course there were more times that I was writing, talking, thinking, feeling about my thesis. But I did not always remember to write down my thoughts and surroundings, these are highlights. Mainly, they are highlights because I am proud of myself for remembering to write anything down in the first place. Cheers!
