Tell The Story Again
How to stay obsessed
Welcome to Muse Letter. This is my weekly column where I muse about what’s consuming me. If this post is too long for your email, you can view it better here.
Hello everyone,
I hope this week has been gentler on you. I got a little derailed last week and didn’t publish anything because my head became a murky mess. Because of that, I’m publishing a little earlier this week — but you can expect these letters to come to you on Sundays moving forward.
Before I jump into it, here’s a couple resources and helpful/insightful info I’ve collected from the last week:
Donate: Abortion funds | Mutual aid funds | The Loveland Foundation | Palestine Children’s Relief Fund | & More
Read: How to alchemize despair into collective action by Jezz Chung | Presentation, A Political Performance by
| & More reads on the intersection of politics and fashion reccomended byListen & share: PrettyCritical’s video on organizing and abortion advocacy | Eleanor Stern on how our phones are a big part of the problem | Mandy Lee on how fashion is political and always has been | Don’t fall for these transphobic arguments | Bernie Sanders’ talk from 2003 | Hasan Piker on how the far right is targeting men in online spaces
Stay curious, raise hell and check on those around you <3
Muse Letter #02
For now, I guess I’ll pick up where I left off. And what I was thinking about last week was the gift of our own obsessions.
Late last month I started a weekly virtual poetry class with the amazing
and she kicked it off by talking about obsession and how it can foster creativity. One of the things I jotted down from the first class was in all caps: START WITH YOUR OBSESSIONS! GET TO KNOW THEM!I never realized how much this was something I had to unlearn; this harmful desire to shame myself for having nothing new to say. I remember this started early on when I was pitching (or attempting to pitch) stories as a freelance writer. I would rack my brain trying to find the most niche topic out there and by the time I could find the words and motivation to type it into a convincing email to an editor, I saw it published by someone else. This left me deflated. I thought to myself: Has everyhting been written about already?!
The short answer is well, yes.
But that’s where the beautiy of our obsessions come in. My biggest takeaway from Chloe’s lecture was that these sticky fixations are present throughout all our work, whether we intentionally put them there or not. In a way, our obsessions are the bread crumbs we leave behind that lead us (and others) back to the wider thesis of what we’re trying to say.
But sometimes it’s a question of if we’re willing to lean into them or not; to look behind us and find grace in what we’ve revisited so many times. To find value in that.
If you’re a writer or artist of any kind, I urge you to do exactly this: look back and find the patterns. We often search for creative insight and inspiration from other people’s advice, other writings, consantly looking in front of us. Take a second to look back.
Here are some constant obsessions that I think show up in my writing and musings in general:
trees swaying in the wind.
the orange golden light before sunset. and then, actual sunset.
longing, yearning.
nostalgia.
grief.
conversations with friends (not the Sally Rooney book, although that is one of my favorites of hers).
alternate dimensions and timelines.
daydreaming.
growing up.
my father.
This also got me thinking about the importance of noticing your obsessions even outside the context of writing or art. And to go off of that last bullet point, I have to mention how my dad was a man of many obsessions. Those were included and not limited to: Napoleon Bonaparte, classical music, the 1986 concert film, “Stop Making Sense” from the Talking Heads, vests that had a lot of pockets, The English Patient (1996), philosophy, ping pong games, bycicling, the city of Cleveland and getting to show it to people for the first time, Reese’s Cups and so on.
One of my biggest fears after his death was that I would forget things about him — even though he was a vibrant person and this seemed impossible. But you’d be surprised. Grief muddles your memory. The passing of time makes it harder to recall things. And there’s so much new that comes in front of the old. But these odd fixations and repeated stories are a lantern that guide me back to him, whether I see them on my bookshelf or in my memories. And all I can think about is how thankful I am that he had these obsessions and shared them so frequently.
And of course, I urge you — perhaps even more strongly — to notice the obsessions of people around you. Take note of the things they never seem to shake out of their head; know that this is their marker in the sand, their signal to you. These obsessions of ours — the stories repeated, ideas rehashed, songs replayed — are the lone, bright lighthouses in the fog that still direct people to us. They’re the book spines that are the softest and easiest to flip open. It’s where X marks the spot, the backdrop of remembering.
Lately, I’ve stopped correcting people when they repeat a story. Because honestly, I can’t remember the last time I regretted it. Instead, when they ask me if they’ve already told me this, I say: “Yes, you did actually. But can I hear it again?”
PINS + MUSINGS:
Leftover links + reccs from the past week
“The Crying Rooom” by The Yagas has been on repeat all week and last week. It’s eerie, it’s atmospheric and it feelsl like it should’ve been on the soundtrack for The Craft (1996).
Along with listening to the new Berlioz song, I’m still trying to stretch my listening muscles around jazz. This playlist has been great exposure and a wonderful morning mediation as the mornings have been getting darker.
I recently picked up Annie Dillard’s “The Writing Life” again and it’s a necessary kick in the butt for when I’m feeling stuck in my writing — it truly feels like she’s next to you, nudging you in a matter-of-a-fact way to put your soul into your writing. Also, one of her pieces of advice is that your writing station should be as uninspiring as possible — which is an interesting concept I’m chewing on still!
The piece, Everyone is numbing out by
is something I’ll thinking about for a while:
“Stop hiding from the sad truths and start seeking the transcendent truths that will address the sadness. When we flip the game of hide-and-seek, we can stop worrying about someone finding us, and start seeking the truth in the world, in others, and in ourselves.” — Catherine Shannon
Notes on working from home by Evie Goodman made me realize that I may need to get out of the house more during the work week.
This episode of Beautiful Anarachy had a simple but poignant message about creating: oftentimes you need to go for a quantity over quality to get into the flow.
Really loved this interview with Fiona Shaw from newest issue of The Gentlewoman. It made me smile and want to pick up painting again.
And that’s all for this week — thank you for reading!
Yours,
Arbela 🔖
If you’re reading this, I appreciate you so so much! If you’re into podcasts, you can listen/watch The Changing Room Podcast. Want to write me a letter? Submit to my advice column here! Also: you can shop my closet here and follow me on Instagram and TikTok.