Francine Jay, The Joy of Less

p286: By purging the excess from our homes, our schedules, and our minds, we empty our cups - giving us infinite capacity for life, love, hopes, dreams, and copious amounts of joy.

Notes from a pack rat with minimalist desires: Learning what is necessary

When I first began reading and learning about minimalism, I realized that minimalism is subjective (more on this later, but it's a good start to present the story).  When I moved from the two bedroom apartment I shared with my brother into a small, one bedroom flat, I took every thing I owned singularly.  Perhaps to make up for the large amount of objects that would soon be deemed superfluous, when I divided the things we owned jointly, such as kitchenware, I took only one of each.  One fork, one spoon, one knife, one pan, one bowl, etc.  One was just enough; two seemed depressing; three or four seemed excessive.   

I have two close friends that I occasionally invite over for dinner.  After a couple occasional dinners, it became time to reevaluate the lack.  Tonight, I purchased additional forks (3), and a spoon and knife for myself.  Necessary became more, more became necessary.  Does this make me a bad minimalist?  I do not think so.  To me, minimalism is about learning what is necessary for my life, and allowing it to be guided by what is important, even if this means I have three forks in my cupboard instead of one.

tips, 2012
milwaukee wi
© aryn kresol

Jack Kerouac, On the Road

p158: ...if my memory could only serve me right the way my mind works I could tell you every detail of the things we did.  Ah, but we know time.  Everything takes care of itself.

kissing toast, morning jam, 2012
cudahy wi
© aryn kresol

Notes from a pack rat with minimalist desires: In the beginning

A year ago now, in the beginning, I began on my progression into a minimalist lifestyle.  I looked around my apartment at all the things I had collected, all the things that I had made and accumulated over the years, and felt oppressed and unhappy.  As many minimalist share documentation of how few objects they possess, I thought a way to portray the breadth of my ownership would be to make a record, a count, a catalogue of sorts, of all of my possession with the intention of decreasing the final number of objects by, at the least, fifty percent.  The process of cataloging helped me determine which objects I used, which objects I hung on to for sentimental or irrational reasons, and which objects were entirely obsolete (though some time had for the fun of it).   

After three months of photographing and cataloging and not having made it outside of my 10 x 2 foot closet, I realized the full scope of what I had set out to do and how much I really owned.  Too much time, I thought, was being spent on an idea that was meant to decrease my commitment to material objects, not increase it.  Even after my thesis show, in which I exhibited the accomplished state of The Catalogue, and after I moved from my previous residence into a much smaller flat (not having gotten rid of anything in the move), I had the notion of continuing.  To save on time, I thought, I would forgo the process of photographing each object and instead make the record of what the object is and its usefulness.  Even still, this took some time and the longer I spent with the objects I had, the less I was getting rid of, having determined to not proceed into the second phase of the project (the elimination of objects) until I had finished the first (the inventory of objects).  

 I came to realize that the process I had set up previously still worked, and that I was able to evaluate the objects I owned, but that I could instead now do so independently of the elongated task of recording every single thing.  And thus, I abandoned the notion of The Catalogue being a public document; and though this aspect of the project has been dissolved, the fundamental intention is very much alive and continuing.

the sky #1, 2011
© aryn kresol

John Krakauer, Into the Wild

p155:  It is easy, when you are young, to believe that what you desire is no less than what you deserve, to assume that if you want something badly enough, it is your God-given right to have it.

slowly but surely
january 2012
cudahy wi
© aryn kresol
 

Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

p409:  It's enough for me to be sure that you and I exist at this moment.

Albert Camus, Exile and the Kingdom

p13:  ...she would have liked to take up less space.

Top 5 of 2011

Top 5 movies of 2011
Hanna
Jane Eyre
Last Night
Never Let Me Go
50/50


Top 5 books of 2011
May Sarton  Journal of a Solitude
Raymond Carver  What We Talk About When We Talk About Love
Dave Hickey  Air Guitar
David Levithan  The Lover's Dictionary
Ted Hughes  Birthday Letters


Top 5 songs of 2011
Cinematic Orchestra  To Build A Home
Florence + the Machine  Blinding
Fever Ray  Keep the Streets Empty for Me
Say Hi  Spiders
Modest Mouse  People as Places as People


Top 5 albums of 2011
Fever Ray  Fever Ray
Bon Iver  Bon Iver
Radiohead  The King of Limbs
The National  High Violet
Frightened Rabbit  The Modern Leper

a new year
milwaukee wi
© aryn kresol

traveling for christmas, 2011
milwaukee wi
© aryn kresol

Michael Greenberg, Hurry Down Sunshine

p154: The immediate future doesn't exist, only the fantasy future of perpetual childhood and genius...

May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude

p176:  I see my function as quietly destroying myths, even those of my own making, in order to come closer and closer to reality and to accepting reality.

untitled (window light, north), 2011
rockford il
© aryn kresol

if only to remember, these things i will forget
november 2010
rockford il
© aryn kresol

morning brush (sketch)
milwaukee wi
© aryn kresol

Half Full, 2011 
milwaukee wi
© aryn kresol

behind, november 2011
prairie street gallery, rockford il
© aryn kresol

Ev Bogue: The opposite of untethering is gripping.  Gripping is the feeling when a car nearly hits us, and our entire body tenses up in a moment of reflexiveness.  It doesn't matter that we had no control over whether the car killed us or not.  It's tons of steel, we're just human - but we grip all the same.

As something starts to slip away, we grip it.  We hold on tight in an attempt to make everything stay the same.

But the reality is that nothing stays the same, ever.  The universe is constantly changing, and we're just a small part of that whole.  We're orbiting each other for a brief second in the history of everything.  In that brief second, we're gripping ourselves to everything that we never wanted to let go of, but will eventually have to.

a year ago now, early afternoon, november 2010
© aryn kresol

Tea for one, 2011
© aryn kresol

Postcards from New York No. 7

Last morning in New York City.  Packed up my things to check out from the hotel before I departed for my daily adventures, short as they may be.  Arrived at the Museum of Modern Art by their 10:30am opening; caught some passersby on the way.

The New York Joe and Annie

The New York EKP

Briefly met with the MIAD group upon their arrival at 11am.  Walked through the de Kooning exhibition on the sixth floor.  I was pleasantly surprised, for, though I claim to not like de Kooning, I was quite taken with his earlier portraits (pre 1945).  I find it interesting that those were merely the starting point and he diverged so greatly thereafter.  I was also quite impressed with the photography collection and current exhibition, though there was not nearly enough time for me to properly explore and absorb.  Left for a quick bite to eat with Marta and Paige and then off to collect my bags and on to Grand Central to catch my bus to LaGuardia.  It was everything Penn Station was not. 

My bus departed and arrived at the airport so early that I was placed on an earlier flight back to Milwaukee.  I landed in Milwaukee 20 minutes before my original flight would have departed LaGuardia.  Sweet!


The plane had so many empty seats that I sat in my aisle alone.  It was an appropriate return for such a voyage.  Passed a wind farm and I thought of Charlie, the wind turbine I had met - and my sister had named - back in 2008.  Came in from the east, watching the city appear closer and closer until... my house!  My house!  I could see my house; we were directly above it.  Landed.  My brother picked me up and after a short while I convinced him of a sushi dinner at Kiku downtown.  It was better sushi than I had during my eating adventures in New York state.  Though I did not get to too many sushi restaurants in the city, from this perspective, I can say that Milwaukee has better sushi (in my price range) than New York City.

Postcards from New York No. 6

The sky!  The sky!  I am in the sky!  Began the day off with a helicopter ride off the Manhattan Heliport Pier.  Lasted 15 minutes and circled around Lady Liberty and Governors’ Island, up the water divide between Manhattan and New Jersey, giving lovely views of the Manhattan skyline (where does it ever stop?), Central Park, Empire State and Chrysler buildings.  The plan began during my walk along the pier Friday and my stop at the heliport.  The gentlemen at the heliport were quite helpful and dangerously flattering.  I am sure their charm goes a long way.  I thank them for their kindness. 

Trek around northern side of NYU and Greenwich Village for some light thrift shopping.  Purchased two dresses and a book for a total of 26 dollars.  I loved them and loved them that many dollars worth.

Up the 6 to 86^th and a short walk to the Guggenheim Museum.  As much as I had anticipated and demanded I make it there this go around, I have to admit that I was quite disappointed in the visuals I received.  The Pop exhibition was great; very small but very strong pieces.  However, the Nicola López installation purposefully obscured the rotunda of the museum, taking away, in my opinion, its most dominating attraction.  I cannot say that I was alone in my distaste for the installation.  And it is not wholly on the account of the missed view; I found the installation tacky and juvenile, some thing I would find in a first-year student exhibition, not at the Guggenheim.  From the short amount I read on the piece during my visit, it seems a portion of the artist’s intention was to draw from the anticipation of viewers; perhaps, then, the artist achieved her intention.

 

A cup of tea to cheer my late afternoon and a long walk in Central Park, beginning at the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir to pass Strawberry Fields.  Another disappointment.  Smaller than my expectations, as well as crowded – with both people and stuff.  A live band near by was performing Beatles covers.  It was mildly amusing.

Dinner at Friend House again, this time for some hot food: miso soup and lo mein.  The noodles were overcooked, otherwise very good.  Walked to Strand Bookstore on Broadway and browsed for the last half hour before close.  Got lucky there were not any Cummings or Camus books that I did not already own and I did not browse the 1 and 2 dollar carts on account as to not get carried away.

Pack tonight for early checkout tomorrow before heading out on one last adventure…

Postcards from New York No. 5

Day five already; it is hard to believe.  I like having particular things in mind, but making the decisions as I go, or like this morning, waking up with the map beside and deciding where I will start.

Walked around farmer’s market in Union Square, on the lookout for the vegan muffin cart I bought from the last time I was in the city.  No dice. 

Headed up to Chelsea to meet with Marta and other former MIAD classmates (arrived yesterday afternoon)  and spent the better portion of the day visiting galleries and the like in the area.  Do Ho Suh at Lehmann Maupin.  Alice Attie at Foley Gallery.  Elinor Carucci at Sasha Wolf Gallery.  Ethan Murrow at Winston Wachter.  This igloo of books, where I did not note the artist or the gallery where it was shown.  Others.

Stopped at a thrift store – Buffalo – on 26^th I believe.  Bought nothing.  I am really pleased with how selective I have become in my progression to living with less.

Ethan Murrow

Delicious vegan chocolate rugelach before naptime. 

Met up again with Marta and Paige for a walk to Friend House for an intimate sushi dinner, Paige’s first.  She took no liking to it.  Quite entertaining to watch though.  I took the “surprise me” route and ordered the chef’s choice platter.  Worth the try, but too much sashimi for me.  I would rather have my maki and eat it too.

Postcards from New York No. 4

Made my way to the 9/11 Memorial in the mid-morning.  I have mixed feelings toward the Memorial and the soon-to-be Museum at the site dedicated to the remembrance of 9/11, so I wanted to visit the place.  I had hoped to bring myself some resolution, but only find that I am still conflicted.  It is not that I feel as though the day and people should not be remember, but it is the way we, as a culture, choose to remember that I find difficult to accept.  I do not think further elaboration is necessary.  In short, I am ashamed to be a part of it.

On the way, passed by St. Paul’s Chapel and doubled back after leaving the memorial.  Beautiful, though barely legible headstones populate this graveyard, dating back to late 1700s.

Stopped for sushi lunch at Bento Nouveau on way to Battery Park.  Walked down to the tip of the island and saw Lady Liberty from afar.  From there, and despite the mist, took a couple hour walk up and along the pier, stopping at the Manhattan Heliport to watch a bird land, up to the seaport and Pier 17 complex.  Amazing views of the Brooklyn Bridge from Pier 17.  The fog made it even more enjoyable.

Sun!  And blue sky!  Shot up the subway to walk passed the Empire State Building on the way to the Morgan Library.  Incredible building with old books and ceiling paintings.  I felt transported.  My kind of place.  There was also an exhibition of drawings from the Louvre, including studies of Ingres, Delacroix, and David, among others.

Clear weather was short-lived as I walked the many blocks to the Japan Society in the rain, stopping under the overpass to Grand Central Station to wait it out; despite my umbrella, I was still getting soaked.  Exhibitions at the Japan Society included a works derived from fabrics showcase and a small gallery of postcard-size pieces dedicated to the rebuilding after the March earthquakes, each from an individual artist.

Image grabbed from Japan Society website

Walked down First passed the United Nations building and back to the Morgan Library for a screening of the 1946 Great Expectations.  I had never seen it before, plus the theater was quite lovely.  At first, it was one other individual and myself; he said if no one else showed, we would have a date.  Others came; I did not see where he sat in the theater.

Postcards from New York No. 3

Awoke early to catch 6:05am bus to Syracuse Amtrak station for my 6:55am departure to New York City.  The walk from the apartment to the bus stop was short, but rainy, and all together / altogether my bags are too heavy.  I decided on the downhill walk that I must be even more minimal.  I leave while most of Syracuse is still sleeping.

I tried to sleep for the beginning portion of the ride, knowing what lay ahead; still, I was only able to knock off for a short time.  My head was too full.  Tip for future endeavors: If it’s on a train, it needs a blanket.  Still, never a dull moment.  The ride between Syracuse and New York City is incredible.  The autumn colors are said to be more beautiful here in New England, but they simply reminded me of my Midwestern home.  I see similarities and disparities in everything; overwhelmingly, every thing is connected.

I like New York state; it has all these funny named cities and towns like Schenectady and Poughkeepsie and Yonkers.

Arrived at Penn Station on time.  I was underwhelmed.  I suppose I was expecting some thing more like Grand Central, some thing, dare I say, romantic.  This place was sterile-looking like an airport but felt dirty like a subway.  Yes, the perfect description.  There were no seats anywhere so I sat on the ground to catch my breath.  Ejected myself onto the street and toward the Manhattan Mall, still carrying my full load, where I had hoped to quell my screaming empty stomach.  There is no food court in Manhattan Mall, I discovered, which made since, since the entire city is a food court.

Decided I would ignore my need for sustenance, bought my one week unlimited riding pass and navigated my way on the metro system to Union Square, hoping to get an early check-in.  Success.  I have likely only once or twice in my life been happier to see a bed knowing it is specifically mine (for the time being).  

Postcards from New York No. 2

Day two began again at SU (side note: I called it SU all day instead of Syracuse University just to show how integrated I can be; by the end of the day, it was ‘campus’).  Sat for a while having my morning tea – I splurged and bought the 75 cent cup, thinking I will save my tea bags for NYC when cups of tea are proportionally more expensive – and mapped out my daily happenings although they did not quite play the way I mapped out, with no complaint from me.  Props to Marta for previously stating that things never go as planned.

Mom, this one is for you.

Went to the SU Art Galleries.  The featured exhibition was interesting, but I was most intrigued by the storage of their permanent collection.  It was neat and organized and completely visible (at least their three-dimensional works; the two-dimensional works –photographs and prints – were accessible in flat files but needed supervision for viewing).  Fascinating!  Had a short but good discussion with one of the employees about searchable online databases.

Walked to Everson Museum of Art, which I found last night in a Google search; a lucky find because Alec Soth’s From Here To There is currently on view in the upper galleries.  I was jazzed; I must tell Tara.  Completely different experience viewing larger prints, though likely my favored experience was hearing T.S. Eliot read The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock; I tuned out the other guy.  I was happily amused.

Reciprocal admission did not score any points for me today, but it was worth the ten dollars and the admissions desk clerk was more than agreeable and pointed me to a fantastic vegan eatery.  Ate a cup of minestrone soup and amazing Tofu-Lettuce-Tomato sandwich at Strong Hearts Café.  If I lived here, I’d go here.  Even grabbed a couple Alternative Baking Company cookies for the train ride to NYC tomorrow morning (Duration 5hrs, 40mins). 

Onward to The Warehouse Gallery in Armory Square, showing work from three California-based street artists.  I liked one.  Small gallery.  Cute area.  No photography allowed. 

Free bus ride back to main campus, desperate for a cup of tea, or a nap.  Met up briefly with Stacy before heading to an LGBT event of people telling their Coming Out Stories.  An amazingly heartwarming and human evening.  I think a lot of people only came for the free pizza.

Immediate list of things to do: Eat, Bathe, and Rearrange my packed items.  Zipper broke on my backpack, not unlikely from stuffing in my running shoes.  Questioning a) whether it needs to be replaced before the end of the trip, and b) whether it needs to be replaced at all.  Not staying zipped currently is not an option.

Postcards from New York No.1

Arrived in Syracuse today in one piece though an hour and some behind schedule.  After a cold and miserable overnight, my spirits perked up after the sun began to rise.  I watched Pennsylvania come and go.  I found it funny how the country looks the same from middle to end.

 

my fairwell to milwaukee

A bus and a transfer later I was at Syracuse University.  It was mid-afternoon.  Met with Stacy and got the basic tour, and a map! before she had to run to class.  Explored the student center and the library, though I only made it to floor four; after the second the floors all look the same any way.  Went to People's Place, a small, student-run cafe and ordered a cup of hot water.  I brought my own tea, you see.  I gave the girl a quarter any way and she looked confused.  "Put it in the tip jar," I suggested and stepped aside to cap my cardboard mug.  Went outside and sat in the quad like a newbie, made a couple phone calls, and then laid to rest my eyes.  I could see the University Galleries from there, but that is for tomorrow.  The campus is some thing beautiful, with old buildings standing along side modern ones, and the sky opening endlessly.  Met up with Stacy again and walked to her apartment then to a diner for some half price sushi.  That is a word you will hear often on this trip: sushi.  

Until tomorrow.

a perfect place to start

I leave in a few hours on a lone journey to New York.  I suspect I will not be so alone, as, both strategically and coincidentally I will be making the trip at the same time as several others that I know.  The journey will being this evening when I board a train here in Milwaukee bound for Syracuse (Duration: 14 hrs, 27 mins, not including transfer time in Chicago).  The train will ride overnight and I will arrive in Syracuse shortly before noon on Tuesday.  My adopted sister, Stacy, is a graduate student attending Syracuse University and, as I was unable to visit her in Chicago before she made the move, I made arrangements to see her in Syracuse during my venture to New York City.  I will be taking another train from Syracuse to New York (Duration: 5 hrs, 40 mins) and arriving Thursday afternoon.  This gives me from Thursday afternoon until Monday evening in the city.  For those of you who are keeping track, it will be my second time there.


I hope to devote some time each day to write and reflect upon my experiences and what I have seen (or intend to see).  It has been a while since I have set any similar goal for myself and feel as though it would put me at an advantage, taking cue from Ev Bogue and doing the work every single day.  As of right now, I have only one day thought out.  I like the openness of being aware of what is going on yet having no concrete plans.  Perhaps it would be best to go at a day-to-day pace, keeping ahead of myself only slightly and allowing for redirection.


Much like when I set off to California last December I will not be taking a camera with me.  What I will have, and will likely use, is my camera phone, which I have been using more and more (some previous posts have been images from my camera phone).  Unlike the California trip, I will have my laptop.  I will also have my backpack and $3 sixteen inch square suitcase I bought some months ago in excitement for this trip.


My eyes are already stinging from tiredness and I have a long way to go even just today.  I stayed up late last night - okay, really it was midnight - watching Cat on a Hot Tin Roof.  I finally rolled over and had to finish the last half hour or so this morning.  My perception of late has changed much since I left the life of a student staying up at all hours to complete assignments.


Now I am sitting on my brother's patio getting ready as the time gets closer and closer to leave.  The perfect autumn day spent in anticipation: a perfect place to start.

Albert Camus, Notebooks 1935-1942

p206: A time comes when one can no longer feel the emotion of love.  The only thing left is tragedy.  Living for someone or for something no longer has any meaning.  Nothing seems to keep its meaning except the idea of dying for something.

Untitled (Esteban), 2008
© aryn kresol

This and adjoining works will be on display as a part of Fairytales, an exhibition at the Prairie Street Gallery in Rockord IL during Rockford ArtScene, October 14th and 15th.

i wish you were here

milwaukee wi

© aryn kresol

the sky above Rockford IL  September 21, 1987 12:13pm

24 today

Susan Minot, Poems 4 a.m., Breathing on Dice

I wish you knew
the underneath of me,
how I keep track of everything
and try to let everything go.

thinking of you

19 September 2011

© aryn kresol

Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

p23: The moment I met you I saw that you were quite unconscious of what you really are, of what you really might be.  There was so much in you that charmed me that I felt I must tell you something about yourself.  I thought how tragic it would be if you were wasted.

Ev Bogue, What Might Have Happened?

Spending one moment more than necessary worrying about what I should have done yesterday is a moment that I'm not spending now taking concrete actions that are necessary in order to achieve what I need now.

What might have happened never happened.

So, I untether.

Ev Bogue

May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude

p101: I asked myself the question, "What do you want of your life?" and I realized with a start of recognition and terror, "Exactly what I have - but to be commensurate, to handle it all better."

Lin Yutang, 1895

Besides the noble art of getting things done, there is the noble art of leaving things undone.  The wisdom of life consists in the elimination of non-essentials.

Dreaming, 12 February 2011

I laid a bag of my things on the ground
in your yard
and covered it with a cut tshirt
and began watering your lawn.
When I lifted the shirt
(a while later)
from the ground
I saw that it had been covered with hard roots,
sprouting from the bottom like little trees.
You came up behind me.
Then I held it up for you to see
and the roots became a part of me,
under my skin
and you began to pull them out
one by one.

i like these two together (discovery upon upload)

untitled, 2011

milwaukee wi

© aryn kresol

mine to yours
27 june 2011
© aryn kresol

these things i will forget, 2010

rockford il
© aryn kresol

Ted Hughes, Birthday Letters, A Dream

Not dreams, I had said, but fixed stars
Govern a life. A thirst of the whole being,
Inexorable, like a sleeper drawing
Air into the lungs.
...
'And for you,' you said to me, 'permission
To remember this dream. And think about it.'

Ralph Waldo Emerson: We are always getting ready to live but never living.

untitled, 2010

rockford il

© aryn kresol

thinking of you

11 June 2011

© aryn kresol

Paulo Coelho: Life is too short, or too long, for me to allow myself the luxury of living it so badly.

Looking east from the shore, waiting for summer

East, 2009
© aryn kresol

these things i will forget, 2010

caledonia il
© aryn kresol

the gift

photo by Kosta Dimitrov
Summer 2009

Kelli Connell: My photographs lie as documents but tell the truth as images.

the sky above Lviv, Ukraine March 2, 1990 6:40pm