"I'm aging," joked the stand-up comedian to the crowd gathered at Bell House, Brooklyn. Arriving slightly late, there were no available seats, leaving us to stand—an ache that would hit the back of both knees later, a reminder of my aging body the following day.
As the comedian delivered his material about being “old”–new to thirty–my mind drifted to the word and how much we overuse it, myself included. It would be tempting to dismiss his concerns, to say “But he's so young,” yet despite our age difference, I empathize completely. Age is relative. I remember the second I turned 30 I started to adapt the word “old” and use it–embarrassingly–all the time. It's a word so deeply ingrained in our anxieties about mortality. Who among us hasn't feared THE REAPER? [sound on for vibes]:
I can see things more clearly now as I ride into middle age. The wisdom part is pretty sweet. Aging is a privilege–you are still here and get to do stuff! Yet, the gnawing persists: uncertainties about death, age-related illnesses, fearing invisibility or irrelevance, adjusting to physical limitations. It’s all real stuff. Still, I've had to reconsider my outlook: if I call myself "old" now, where does that leave me in the coming years?
The label of old feels too final for me–too full stop. Calling someone else old feels ageist. When I call myself “old” it drains the vitality from this moment and the time I have right in front of me to create art–which matters so much to me. My own fear of death is the apprehension of not fulfilling my artistic aspirations in this lifetime. The art genius has only recently hatched inside my awareness, needing time to spread its wings. Instead of succumbing to fear, I've chosen to view aging as a catalyst for action. Channel that passion (cough, fear of death) into producing work—not as an excuse not to. We have the power to change the narrative of aging. I prefer to think of myself now as a wise owl; nocturnal, full of intuition, magic, and insight.
SUN IN THE EIGHTH HOUSE
What a fitting time to discuss aging, given that March was my birthday month! We are in Aries season, and while I'm not a fan of astrology in the vague daily horoscope type of way, delving into my exact birth chart and exploring the astrological houses has shed light on real inner conflicts. I’m torn between my wild Ram side—passionate, untamed, and fiery (Aries sun)—to a side of myself that uses caution, logic, and rationality (Virgo rising). Often these two are at odds with each other, and there are strengths & weaknesses to both. Admittedly, knowing astrology hasn't dramatically altered my life, but it’s so much fun to have this artistic way to articulate it. Also, how cute is my mom as a lil pregnant Aries Ram?
Legend has it, many moons ago—under a waxing crescent moon to be exact—my mother thought she was in labor and went to the doctor. They sent her home, and in typical late 70’s gaslighting fashion, she was told “No, you’re not in labor. Go home, put your feet up, eat something–it’s gonna be a while.” My mother duly listened, not fully convinced, because right as she was heating a meatball sandwich in the toaster oven, her water broke on the kitchen linoleum.
The Aries & the Leo, two fire signs themselves, jumped back in the car and my father sped into New York rush hour. While driving up along the sides of the road to avoid gridlock, he got pulled over by the police. When the cops saw my mom nearly giving birth in the backseat of a Dodge Polara, they escorted Dad’s car [BWOOP BWOOP] to the hospital—where I was born in seconds—a call so close my dad was still parking the car.
The doctor greeted him and said “Congrats! It’s a baby girl.” Dad wept tears of joy when the doctor leaned in and said “Also, she was holding a meatball sub.”
SPRING EQUINOX
Though my birthday falls just a few days after the arrival of spring, I've always loved autumn best. The sound of leaves crunching underfoot and the anticipation of Halloween makes October my favorite. Lately, I’ve been appreciating spring. I'm especially drawn to what it symbolizes: a season of potential, renewal, the eternal cycle of life and death in nature. It also ignites my longing to be outdoors.
My obsession with the language of flowers continues, and daffodils are March’s flower. While yellow isn't my favorite color, I have always planned to have a daffodil tattooed on my inner wrist in black & white. A daffodil is also the teacup Willy Wonka chomps down on in the 1971 film Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory. Oh man–as a child, I coveted everything edible from that movie, particularly the lickable wallpaper. Yum
“Daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno's eyes”
—Shakespeare
HIGHLIGHTS FROM MARCH
WOMEN’S HISTORY MONTH
One of my favorite client projects was illustrating 54+ portraits for NARAL Pro-Choice America in 2016, and further projects again in 2019. Since then the cards are no longer available—what a relic!—NARAL has since become “Reproductive Freedom for All”. My favorite card is Shirley Chisolm, the first Black woman to run for a major party's nomination for President of the United States. I saw the Shirley movie poster and freaked–Regina King plays Shirley! I love Regina and had to pay a little revisit to both women. My favorite role of King is Angela Abar (Sister Night) from HBO’s “Watchmen” (2019).DAYLIGHT SAVING ENDS
Daylight Saving ended and it has turned our cat Fluff into a wild beast. He doesn’t understand time anymore—did he ever?—even though pushing the clocks ahead serves his best interest. It messed me up too for a bit, and I wonder why the heck we still do this in modern times.WORLD SLEEP DAY
March 15, 2024, is World Sleep Day, which “delegates and sleep health advocates across the world”. Who better to demonstrate this than our guy Nosferatu? And there will be new Nosf shorts coming later this year!MISTLETOE IN SPRINGTIME
Andrea Schmitz & I are ALMOST at the finish line with our collaborative short adaptation of “Legend of the Mistletoe Bough”. The story begins on Christmas but ends in springtime, leading us to the creepy horror finale–my favorite scene.TWIN PEAKS: THE RETURN
In March I rewatched almost all of Twin Peaks (1990-1991)—save a handful of episodes from Season 2 that were downright unwatchable. I’m 3/4 through The Return (2017)–which I have a renewed appreciation for seven years later.
Thanks to David Lynch, I adore artists like Junior Kimbrough, leading me to discover Jessie Mae Hemphill, and Dirty Beaches (major swoon). The soundtrack of The Return is truly outstanding. Just as in life, one cannot fully go back to the past, but there's always a chance to appreciate it from a fresh perspective.While Jessie Mae Hemphill was not a direct Lynch recommendation, I found her through Junior Kimbrough—whom Lynch has mentioned. “Snake Eyes” is my #1 favorite from The Return’s live performances, featuring Alex Zhang Hungtai (of Dirty Beaches & Last Lizard) on saxophone alongside Dean Hurley (David Lynch’s longtime music supervisor) and David’s son, Riley Lynch.
In a world currently at odds with fake vs reality, I’ve become even more attracted to authenticity in myself and others. I’ll leave you with this article from Medium 10 Signs Your Authentic Self Has Taken Over:
“I can’t imagine where I would be if I had not taken care of my fears and limiting beliefs.”
It made me feel proud of how much my inner work is working! I feel a lot of these 10 things; I hope you do too.
🖤, A
This was so enjoyable! I love your animations and sense of humor. And learning about how you came into this world. What a story. And the flowers on the wallpaper sprinkled here and there, haha, the things we never forget!
I love your birth story!! The meatball sub! what a fabulous way to enter the world, and your mom sounds like a true powerhouse of a lady. I also love all the life/death pingpongs in this one and how you hold both at the same time. That tension is one of my favorite parts of your work <3