We are all alive Together
Becoming transparent to you
I started my hunt for something. I wanted to know some sort of truth. When I was 18 it led me to the work of Caveh Zahedi. Freshly in New York I heard what he said and thought it was the closest that someone had verbalized that truth I had been looking for. Now I am free and working to keep that freedom. I have been spending a lot of my time thinking about how I can continue living my life, my art life, my dreaming life, (the two forever entwined) in a way that speaks truth. I’ve picked up the shovel, it feels good and firm in my grasp. I am starting to dig my own grave. Let any consequences be transformed into the holy and the good. All the worlds beauty and adventure is in the palm of my hand, and it always has been. I’m not searching without. I know the search is within, moving with me. I am what I have been searching for and I am beginning. So now I will be transparent to the world. Let us see what we find.
These diaries were greatly inspired by the publications of Girl Insides and I believe her work aligns quite harmoniously with Caveh Zahedi’s work. To me, they each live those art lives day after day.
I hope you feel the touch of my ectoplasmic phantom hand that reaches through the realities which try to divide us.
We are all alive together. You are the other me.
Monday 2/2/26
Got up at a solid 10:00 am after snoozing my alarm for an hour. Don’t feel guilty about it. The sun is out and I feel cold even under my comforter and knit blanket from Paris. Made myself coffee and toast and got ready for yoga. Hopped on the 6 train all the way down to Astor Place. Train was empty and strangely peaceful. Thinking about how foggy the period of working at the camera store was. Glad I am not on the train headed there. Left my phone number on a postcard that I gave to my coworker last Friday after my last shift. He didn’t text all weekend. Whatever I guess. I have other great loves to think about, to take up my time, and continue working towards. I don’t care if that makes me sound shallow. I spent a long time not seeking any male validation and now I want to try something new.
Did bliss yoga and was at first disappointed in my unsteady balance but then was in full camel position. My head tilted back to my heels and I thought “Thank God for yoga” which made me smile and enjoy the rest of the movements. In the class next to me was this adorable blonde man, maybe my age, with little Ginsberg glasses and prayer beads around his neck. The instructor announced at the end of class that he would be leading a mentorship meditation right after yoga and we were all welcome to join for free. I absolutely could not say no. Ordered a matcha at the cafe and waited for his class to start. It was small and as I adjusted myself on the cushion I thought about the monastery. The blonde man was so smiley and reminded me of the small British monk even though the blonde man was Australian. His hair looked like it was just growing out of being shaved and I wondered if he had come from a monastery. He lead us through an inner guide meditation which I had done a few times before. My hands outstretched before me. Offering, offering, offering. I imagined Patti Smith, of course, and I imagined us at Pacific Beach back home. I imagined he was waiting for me there on the beach too. Smiling at me and Patti, standing tall and patient and sweet like usual. Thank you God for meditation. I came out of it very happy. The answer Patti gave me was just to love him. “Just love him without hesitation” she said. Her “him” sounding more like an “ ‘em” from that beautiful Jersey accent that she has. Him as them as everyone as myself and as you. “Just love him all the time”. “Ok Patti. Ok”. The blonde man opened up the circle for people to share what they saw. A couple sat next to me. The man had already been talking aggressively on the phone in the cafe. Shanti, Shanti, Shanti. I had to remind myself not to let myself be bothered by it. Not getting angry at men anymore. In the circle he immediately got on his phone again. Everyone peacefully ignored him. The woman shared to the group that in front of her guide she offered a gift she had not offered before. She peeled her entire skin off in front of her guide and revealed her truest self. Her light body, her pure being. She said her guide laughed in acceptance like of course that was who she was. Her guide already knew. It was a beautiful sentiment I had not heard before.
I left the studio and checked my phone to discover I had accidentally left my friend waiting for me when I was supposed to stop by her work to visit her. I felt terrible and guilty but did my best to forgive myself in order to forge through the rest of my day. I hopped back on the 6 train home and entered the apartment to find my roommate still in the exact same position I had seen her when I left. Trying not to judge but I have always been puzzled by those who want to stay inside. There is so much world out there to enjoy and experience and so little time in this life to see it. Put on the episode of Bridgerton I had fallen asleep to the night before and decided to cook for myself. Carrots, fake ground beef, handmade pesto from the fancy grocer down the street, pasta, and cheese. So filling, so lovely. I rested until the episode was done and fought off the urge to nap. Got my coat back on and headed out to Negativeland. Have been on the 6 train and then to the L train to Negativeland so many times in the past month. Train was so packed. Everyone was trying to get home. Fair, fair. I won’t get upset over it. Talked to my friend Reese while I walked from the train to the warehouse where the Negativeland office is. We made plans to see Pillion on Friday. I am so excited! Have a feeling it may make me cry. So excited for that. Made it to Negativeland and sat on their blue couch admiring their freaking huge vintage Tarkovsky poster. Probably worth a lot. Everyone who works at Negativeland looks so cool. Footage ready and on my drive. Forgot to bring my laptop so I couldn’t watch it right away. Bummer.
Got a last minute ticket to go see Poeta at IFC with 2 hours to kill in between. I had seen the trailer and knew I would love it. I also adore going to IFC by myself. Could never go on a movie date to IFC. Like seriously if we’re at IFC don’t distract me or touch me or talk to me while I’m trying to have a filmic and transformative experience. Got back to the West Village. Got a chai at a cafe where an old classmate used to work. I was hoping to get the chai for free but I found that she doesn’t work there anymore and they closed right after I got there so I only wrote about half a page while sipping. Oh well. Decided to walk to the Japanese grocer for movie snacks but got distracted by the Jefferson Market library. So gorgeous. Why did I never go in there when I was in school? I have my library card now, so why not? It is breathtaking inside. I love it. Checked out a book I’ve been wanting to buy. Yay less consumerism. Will start reading Queer by William Burroughs this week. Wrote another 3 pages. Feeling good about the prospect of publishing my week in this way. Feels important.
“Everything is important” I had said. “You’re important” he said. I shrugged my shoulders. Maybe that was rude or maybe just truthful in the moment. I don’t know.
Left the library down the giant stone steps. On the way to snacks and then IFC. Barely made it on time to the film. Missed the IFC intro. Bummer. I love that intro more than any other in the world I think. Already loving the film because it’s shown in an overscan of the print and the main character is drunk and screaming about poetry and he’s chopped and oftentimes stands motion and expressionless every 5 or so minutes of dialogue. Amazing. So me. Representation matters. Japanese snacks were not the best idea. Way too sweet. An absolute racket in the theater to get them open. Learned my lesson. Film now over. Single tear rolled down my cheek in the last act. Cannot recommend enough. Seriously. Leaving IFC and passing school. Thinking about all of my old friends in there. Last week when I visited school it made me feel the following…
Nostalgic, Geriatric, Happy, Sad, Loved, Abandoned, Embarrassed, Hopeful
Back on the 6 train. Wish I could log how many hours I’m on this train. Back home. Need to call my mom and book tickets to Dublin like yesterday. So sleepy. Put on Adam Friedland while making tea and getting ready for bed. Showered. Hair felt like hay cobwebs from $30 “surf” wave hair foam I got at Zitomers on Saturday. Whatever. It smells good and makes me feel closer to home. No hair product can outdo the Pacific. We know this. Out of shower and way too tired to book an airline ticket. Said goodnight to my mom and set alarm for 6:00 am. Overheating room with my space heater so it’s easier to wake up tomorrow.
Tuesday 2/3/26
Up before the sun. Doesn’t feel as terrible as I feared. Early morning is after all empty of a nature and so I am going to make it good and joyful. Got out of apartment with enough time to get a huge coffee. 2 trains and 1 bus to go take care of Brooklyn baby. Bus ride through Greenpoint morning so gorgeous and lovely. Made it on time after 1 hour and 15 minutes of commute induced meditative state. Walked in ready to train with their current nanny. Walked in instead to find an actress from school who was in a film someone in my thesis class made that I didn’t care much for and gave gnarly notes to every week. She told me an old classmate who she’s friends with says Hi. Ok incredible twist to be perceived over a year later by someone I barely spoke to in that class. Choosing to not feel any type of negative way about that. Brooklyn baby is my new little piece of light and joy. We played so much and she loved my vintage sweater. Taught her words in the 4 hours we were together. She is so smart and looks to be aching to speak. This new kind of work feels right. I had worries at first. To be away from people my age, to not be conversing ideas and no more ciggy breaks, but no. I will be around so much more love and positivity. Spiritual health is as important as anything else. Happy to no longer be around the yelling and the hatred. I have a feeling I will be learning small sweet lessons from Brooklyn baby experience. Left the baby after she went down for her nap. She was crying and it made me so sad. I will be an insanely devoted mother. Never apart. It might kill me.
Went to a Brooklyn artisanal grocer and coffee shop after work to write for a bit. Had second coffee of the day and a warmed homemade biscuit with fig jam. So gluttonous and heavenly. Ran out to catch bus right on time to make Karmi Yogi orientation. Got a free mint tea and spoke about emptiness. I love sitting on a meditation cushion listening to another explanation of Karma and Emptiness. Such, such bliss. Left studio feeling so triumphant and ready to continue my practice through the cafe. Had thoughts of returning to monastery. Fuck the cold. I want to go back and see the monks again. Walked to the Whole Foods hot bar on Bowery. Had urge to only eat tofu. Got super full on tofu and re-invited old school friend to come to William Burroughs’ bunker with me. Going alone again. Need to not do so many things alone anymore. Think that might be good for me.
Arrived at the warm and wonderful bunker and was greeted by the same faces in the bright orange chairs around the old wooden table. Saw the cute guy from last week. He was re-arranging the book shelf and just looked too dreamy I had to walk away. I leaned on the doorframe of Burroughs’ room. Noticed his stack of dress shoes this time. He has about 4 bedside tables in the room. Each a unique world. Spoke to the sweet young caretaker of the bunker. He is from San Francisco and helped me put on one of the records to listen to. Poets for Peace the recording was called and it happened in St. Marks Church. Heard Ginsberg read about Kansas City and Nebraska. He felt so silly and free in the reading. Then the caretaker showed me some footage that John Giorno had taken when he and Ginsberg went to India. The footage looked like 8mm to me and was so so beautiful. Ginsberg looked happy in Darjeeling in his light cotton shirt and prayer beads. After writing for a bit I headed out for the 6 train home. I called my mom while I walked through Nolita.
Now home and not hungry just ready for sleep. Ran a bath and painted my nails in one of my favorite pearl shades. I started watching Secretary with Maggie Gyllenhaal and James Spader in bed and oh my goodness it was so amazing. Turned everything off and fell asleep at a gorgeous 9:30pm. Then at 11:00pm I woke up with a start to roommate cooking dinner with all the lights on outside my door. What the fuck. And then Reese started calling me with my ringer on. Turned everything off again and went back to sleep.
Wednesday 2/4/26
Up again at 6:00am and feeling hungry. Reading Queer on the train. Feeling very connected to Burroughs and hearing his thoughts ring true through my mind. His suppression of desire. His desire for controlling love. Wanting so desperately to be loved. Making mistakes. This book has been invigorating so far. On the train the operator kept announcing things like “Yes you can” and “My beautiful people on this train”. A reassuring voice of God. On this dark train all together. Heading to different places Knowing your stop is coming and that you must get off. Let the doors close behind you, letting the train continue on, never for you to return. Within you and without you. Death. So you can go on to continue your journey. Is the train ride the life part? We are all alive together.
Got to Greenpoint and had a coffee and spinach puff at Poetica Coffee. Sat near the window and let the sun kiss my face. Caught the bus and had a lovely day taking care of Brooklyn baby. We went to the park and she watched the squirrels. So cute. Once I left I was hungry again and walked to a sandwich shop. Broccoli rabe, arugula, turkey, on focaccia. I waited anxiously and checked my email. Someone had filled out the contact form on my website. No one ever does that. No one has really given a fuck about my work in almost a year. I read the message and burst into tears. I called my mom immediately as I ran out with my sandwich. Caveh responded to my cold email and asked to meet for an editing session on Sunday. Blessing! Blessing! Blessing! Thank you God. Caveh also wrote that he had actually replied to my email days ago but it didn’t go through. Fuck you Gmail. Fuck machines. How dare a robot get in the way of fate. I smiled all the way home. Destiny smiles upon me. I am so excited. My film friend, my truth guide, maybe my mentor. Je suis un autre!
Got home, devoured sandwich while finishing Secretary. Such a great film. Can only hope for an insane romantic match like that. Took a midday nap and dreamt a lot. Visited a lot of people and dreamt my bed was moved to the balcony on the top of the Empire State Building. I kept having to tuck the corners of my sheets and comforter because the wind kept blowing them away. Awoke happily to a call from Reese. She called with kind of terrible news. I screamed and jumped out of bed and threw my phone on the floor. I am so jealous by nature. I need to break that. But I love madly and with all that love comes blood. I freaked out so hard on the phone with Reese that it shut her phone down. The energy of the borderline demonic response I had to the news gave me enough of a push to go do my laundry. Left the load to wash and walked near the part of the reservoir across from the Guggenheim. Called my mom again to complain about the terrible news as I looked out at the Dakota in the blue hour light. All was quiet and twinkling while I bitched about never getting to keep anyone to myself. Moved laundry to dryer and got a hot chocolate while I read Queer at a cafe. When my timer went off for my clothes to be finished I walked back to the laundromat to find it closed. My soft dry clothes imprisoned inside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Will call tomorrow and try to rescue clothes before heading to Greenpoint. I was only 10 mins late! I was reading Burroughs! Please! Came back home and washed my hair while cry-singing to Father John Misty songs. Then listened to the Doors while catching up on writing the day down. Going to make a PB&J and call my mom again to book ticket to Dublin. My pilgrimage is important to me. Will probably find the love of my life in Ireland. Scheduled date-ish hangout for Saturday. Had to decline adding a movie to the hangout. I’ve already seen everything that’s out that I want to see right now. Booked ticket with my mom which put me at ease and called it a night.
Thursday 2/5/26
Up early again and it came so naturally. The sun rising red and lovely against the side of the nursing college I can see from my window. Woke up a little squirrelly and dreaming right before my alarm. Can’t remember dream but can remember I was trying to explain myself to someone and they couldn’t understand me. Awoke to also see that neither of my friends studying abroad in Europe can come to Dublin on the dates I chose and I got a non-refundable ticket. Like ok, ok, ok. Solo trip to Dublin sounds fine. Totally fine. Since all my clothes is in laundromat jail I am wearing dirty clothes which feels a bit icky but my hair is clean so I’ll survive. Got giant coffee and all trains and bus arrived perfectly and quickly leaving me 20mins to sit in the same grocer/cafe again. Got mint tea to soothe my stomach. Feeling super bloated. Hoping this tea will fix me. Haven’t had stomach issues in months. Weird. Took care of Brooklyn baby and went on a walk in the park again. She is starting to get used to me and loves playing with my gold bracelet. After leaving Brooklyn I ran back home to rescue my clothes and grab my camera. Got to Reese’s play rehearsal late but still got some good photos and had fun with Reese and her theater friends. Went back to the East Side on the C train and then walked from the Plaza Hotel near the park back home. Talked to my dad on the phone while he drive back from LA to our home in San Diego. Had Chinese food for dinner from a place near the laundromat. Found out I could return my Dublin ticket because it had been less than 24 hours since I had purchased. Crisis averted. Read Queer before bed for a bit. Tired from the day and slept quickly.
Friday 2/6/26
Woke up next morning naturally at 8:30am but decided to go back to sleep for as much as I could because I knew I’d be up late. Nightmarish dreams in the time I slept extra. Regretted the extra rest because it was exactly opposite. In my dream I was running, driving, and flying to escape murder and cannibalism and it felt terrible. Got up and had coffee and cleaned my kitchen. Then I got myself dressed and actually wore makeup which felt nice. Hopped on two painfully slow buses to meet Reese on the Upper West side for coffee and Pillion watching. Had an iced matcha at Maman and snuck a slice of quiche into the theater. Pillion was so beautiful and honest which is the kind of truth I have been chasing lately. Beauty in absolute truth. Whatever that truth entails or brings about with it. Beautiful film overall. After leaving the theater we headed to Reese’s house. She got ready and I ate some snacks I picked up at CVS and read Queer at her kitchen counter. I looked out her window and the sky was thick. Lady Liberty in the distance not obscured but compressed. I told Reese it would probably snow soon. We left for the theater and I sat and watched her run throughs. The show was brilliant and funny as all Reese shows are. I’m so proud to know her and witness her work over these past few years. After the show we headed to the bar Jack Doyle where we’ve gone before after Reese has had a show at the same theater. I had a Guinness and we talked to the actor in Reese’s play who I have also photographed before. He told us this harrowing story about his most recent heartbreak. Everything the girl did that wronged him was something I would do and do again. It was interesting to hear what it was like on the other side of that. Then Reese and I rushed off to the Italian restaurant Arthurs & Sons in Midtown for a dinner with Reese’s family. I had giant fusilli with pesto and Reese and I spoke about horror movies.
I walked to the train with the leftovers Reese’s dad let me take. I spoke to my mom and arrived at my apartment to find my roommate’s entire family splayed out everywhere. Upsetting. I try not to get upset but it was deeply upsetting. I have always fought seeds of Karma that bloom in my face invoking external forces that disturb and overtake my home space. I end up feeling like a burrowing animal backing into my hole, barring my teeth and snarling with each step backwards. I went to sleep and tried to focus on the meditations and dharma that were to come tomorrow.
Saturday 2/7/26
Woke up again to difficult dreams and felt stuck. Hearing my alarm before it actually rung. Had coffee and cereal and tried to make my way around the encampment in my living room to use my kitchen and bathroom. Listened to Emergency Intercom as I got ready then headed back to 222 Bowery for Dharma teachings. It was utterly freezing and windy outside with a light flurry. I ran into the building to escape the cold and met Lama Pema Dragpa. A monk who had come down from the Padmasambhava Buddhist Center upstate. The Bunker hosts a Lama from the center every month for a day of dharma and group meditation. I greatly enjoyed his teachings. Clarity, Purity, Sincerity. He spoke of the 4 turnings of the mind, the 3 jewels, and we did chants and prayers. On our lunch break I walked into Nolita. I ate Thai noodles and drank a hot americano on my own in a cute little restaurant across from Elizabeth St. Garden. I split off from the group when they went to lunch because I wanted to write and also I felt awkward for some reason. Now I’m sitting at the bar of the restaurant watching the Winter Olympics snowboarding event on the TV.
A few nights ago I emailed my old cinematography professor about a connection I discovered between Buddhist dharma and one of my professors teachings on the ancient Greek perception of light. They believed all light that made the world visible came from ourselves, from our eyes. And so everything we could not see with our eyes in that given moment was not visible at all and almost therefore non-existent. This also reminded me of the theory of local reality in quantum physics. If I do not perceive these realities locally then they do not exist universally. Similar to dharma on emptiness. Our reality comes from ourselves. We create what we see. How are these three ideas connected? I don’t know but I want to talk to my professor about it soon.
Went back to the bunker through a really cold and painful wind chill. Lama Pema Dragpa met me at the door. For the next part of the day the group had decided to do an offering to Guru Rinpoche. It involved bringing food offerings to the altar in the Bunker. When Lama Dragpa let me in through the iron gates and led me upstairs I realized I had forgotten to get the 3 oranges I wanted to bring for the offering. I ran back out on the street and after not finding any fruit in the nearest deli I settled on 3 smiling bear financier cookies from the Plantshed cafe next door. I ran back into the Bunker just in time and displayed the smiling bears on an old china dish with blue and white markings. The same dishes Warhol and Mick Jagger used to eat on when they’d visit for dinners. So much history in one room. Lama Dragpa led us through chants and each sangha member present had a role in the offering. I was charged with lighting five candles and a stick of incense. With each candle I prayed for warmth (1), dancing (2), peace (3), love (4), and endless joy (5). We meditated for the whole world to be free of all illness and to be free of all suffering. One sangha member brought us spoonfuls of water that she poured into our cupped hands. The water held golden droplets of all the goodness in the universe. All the love in the universe I drank in that water. After our meditation was over I helped clean lightly then felt a draw to go home. I wish I had stayed because as I left this cute guy who was in the group all day and had asked Lama Dragpa a wonderful question stopped me to say goodbye. The goodbye felt tender and earnest like he had wanted to speak more but I rushed out. He had a 70’s look to him, Graham Nash looking. The kind of lanky charm I like. Once I got home I found him on Instagram and discovered he was a folk singer. So cute. Just my type and I wished I had stayed. Maybe I’ll see him again. Finished Queer on the train ride back up to the UES. When I got home I arrived to a grave disappointment. I won’t write on it too much but will say this. My home space is sacred and when it is violated and intruded upon my old fury comes fighting back and I must remember peace. I called my mom crying and we talked for a long time. I dried my eyes and had my leftover pesto fusilli and sheltered away in my room. Had to reschedule date-ish hangout for next week because of the cold but secretly also because my eyes were now puffy and I couldn’t access my bathroom to get ready and look pretty.
Sunday 2/8/26
Woke up at 10:00 am with just enough time to throw on some clothes to meet my NYU career mentor for a call. When I went out to my kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee I discovered my home was still under occupation and I couldn’t make my sacred cup of caffeine. I texted my lovely and understanding mentor to ask if we could push our meeting and then headed out into the cold to the nearest cafe. It was completely empty and I ordered a latte and had my meeting. It was freezing inside the cafe so I trudged on home once I was done. By this time I had not yet received a Zoom link to meet with Caveh. I had given up a bit of hope and instead of making myself look presentable I decided to look for the perfect jazz track to go over my new Super 8mm video. Suddenly five minutes after we had planned to meet I got a link in my email. I rocketed out of bed and threw on some jewelry and lip balm. Oh my gosh I’m going to meet Caveh. What a gift! I am the luckiest girl in the world. I am the luckiest student. He was perfectly himself and calm. After asking a few questions we got directly to work. We worked for over an hour coloring his new show that he had finished editing. He treated me like a perfect equal. He respected my opinions and it felt like I had already worked with him for years. Peaceful harmony and mutual understanding. It was truly wonderful and I cannot wait to work with him more. After the meeting I took a shower and blew out my hair then straightened it. I packed my overnight bag and headed to Brooklyn for my friend’s place. Once I arrived we headed out together to the Whole Foods near her apartment and I got candied cherries and more rose water face mist. She bought snacks for us to have while the Superbowl played. I built her cats new water fountain and ate chips and drank sparkling lemonade out of cute glasses. Reese also came over and we all laughed on the couch. Wonderful friend time that felt like our trip to Miami had not been so long ago. Like we were still in school together seeing each other all the time. That night my friend and I talked a lot and as we dozed off to sleep her cat snuggled next to me and I pet him softly.
