bonus: looking to the winter ahead
i'll take season 1 of quarantine back with a side of holiday spirit, please
[from my camera roll, taken outside of my Los Angeles townhouse]
Two newsletters? In one day? You’re in for a treat, and I’ll try to keep this last edition a bit shorter and more lighthearted.
I’ve never really known a true winter, nor have I finished Game of Thrones, which birthed the ever-iconic line “Winter is coming.” My comprehensive knowledge on the topic? Limited, but we’re going to make do.
Between growing up in Florida and attending college in Southern California, my December-February has usually been plagued with overcast skies and temperatures hovering in the 50s/60s, with maybe some cold rain showers to break up the monotony. Winter in its full, powerful embrace is a relatively foreign concept to me, but I disdain it nonetheless for making me a slave to any source of heat I come across. Side note: One of my favorite questions to ask people is whether they prefer being hot or cold. A surprising number of people answer “cold” because they claim to be able to “bundle up and escape it.” See, that’s the exact opposite reason why I favor warmer weather, as I’d much prefer to bask in the sun than hide from torturous winter winds, but I digress.
As you can probably guess, winter is my least favorite season. After the holidays, it’s just cold for no reason, so we’re left to wrap up in blankets, sit inside, and wait for the first sign of spring to break up the insufferable, chilling grey. This winter, we’re looking at a triple-whammy: Cold weather, shortened days due to daylight savings, and quarantine, especially in the face of resurging COVID cases in the U.S. (as if they ever stopped climbing, really). California just put in place a new curfew from 10 p.m. until 5 a.m. beginning last Saturday, and protests in Huntington Beach are already breaking out in opposition to the ruling.
The earlier “season” of quarantine (yeah, you remember the first one with Tiger King, whipped coffee, and homemade sourdough bread) was accompanied by budding spring weather that turned to summer and kept us sane with our daily dose of vitamin D. Now faced with the impending push indoors thanks to colder weather, we’re going to have to get creative with how we brave the third season of this poorly-rated apocalyptic television show nobody wanted in the first place.
Winter, alongside all of its associated festive activities, is a great season to retreat inward, both physically and interpersonally, and reflect upon the people and things that matter the most. Given the pandemic, that emphasis on staying inside will be amplified, which can result in a variety of consequences. Personally, I’m looking forward to this next phase of hibernation, where I plan to absorb the year’s lessons in full and look ahead to a (hopefully) brighter, warmer future. If anything, the world knows we need to prepare better for 2021 than we did 2020.
There are worse things than staying inside, a statement I accept but admittedly struggle to type because I am always one to be down for a random outing. However, we have to stay in if we ever want to go out in full again. So for those of you winter-lovers who claim to be itching to cozy up inside and escape the cold, now’s your chance to make your dreams come true in full. And that’s that on that.
[correction: every once in a while in this *newsletter]
Thank you for reading my five sporadic editions of “apocalypse, but make it gen-z” and for joining me on its evolution from Gen-Z political news to thought pieces I (hope) speak to the core feelings of our generation. It’s up in the air whether I’ll extend this project into the uncertain future, but the positive feedback I’ve received from my intimate subscriber base keeps the door to possibility ajar, at least.
ON MY MIND
At this point? No thoughts, just vibes.
I’m a bit late to the game, but I recently finished watching the brief Netflix series Ozark and was blown away by the cinematography and storytelling.
The author @rainbowsalt’s Instagram is filled with comforting tidbits of emotional intelligence for anyone seeking out their place in the world. Sure, it may be a bit 2012 Tumblr-esque, but her beautiful words hit home all the same.
Sharon Olds’ poem “I Cannot Say I Did Not” strikes a chord about, well, existing.
No song has single-handedly made me happier in 2020 than Lauv’s “Tattoos Together,” which I associate with strolling down the street of Greece from my *study abroad* days in the spring.
That said, as I will be cozying up and hibernating post-finals stress, I will be listening to this soft vibes playlist my friend sent me.
On my book list for winter break: Permission to Feel by Mark Brackett, I’m Thinking of Ending Things by Ian Reid, Another Country by James Baldwin, On Beauty by Zadie Smith, and Eileen by Ottessa Moshfegh.
Lastly, like I briefly plugged in my last newsletter, I wrote this letter to my future self as the final for one of my classes, and some of my points about growth during the pandemic are ones I think everyone would ~feel some type of way~ about. It’s one of my favorite pieces of writing I’ve constructed thus far, so I want to share it as much as I can. Here’s a taste:
“But I love this timeline, truly, for its missing and disheveled fragments combined with the heightened awareness that comes from closed circles and forced repetition. Work and repeat. Play and repeat. Fight and repeat. Love and repeat. Whereas once my activities flowed in and out of each other in the larger, more open ecosystem that is the world, my wandering gaze has been limited to the same faces and spaces, which has forced me to actively search for (and passively embrace) deeper connection where outside forces have lost their molding grasp.”
That’s all! Until next time, see you online.
xoxo, Rowan <3
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twitter: @rowan_born // instagram: @rowanborn