This has been my office for the past five years. This room has been my heart. I very rarely to never share photos of my office, and you should feel honored if you have ever received one (a few of you here have!).
Dear Comrades,
This newsletter is a commitment to myself, first and foremost. I start writing each newsletter the morning before I send it out. I have always written my newsletters on the day I send them.
Sometimes I write my newsletters quickly. I know exactly what I would like to write. My words pour out of me and onto the page, and then I can move onto the next thing in my life.
Sometimes I work on my newsletter until almost the very last minute. I write for the morning, and then take a break to think about which photos I might include. I have always been weird about photos; about taking them, and then about sharing them.
Some days worry
some days glad
some days
more than make you
mad.
Some days,
some days, more
than shine:
when you see what’s coming
on down the line!
I have tried to write my newsletters early and cannot do so. Even writing my newsletter the day before hasn’t felt right, yet. I imagine one day it could, but it hasn’t happened yet.
I continue to try to write my newsletters early. I have always envisioned being able to do so, ever since I set out to begin what has become Bi-Monthly By Ryan. I imagine writing my newsletters well ahead of time because I have a well scheduled life of award ceremonies and residencies to attend, to which I would be on my way or arriving as my emails arrive to your inboxes.
I usually know exactly what I would like to write. Or, at least, I have a clear and precise vision of where I would like to begin. Today is not one of those days.
Imagination
creates the situation
and, then, the situation
creates imagination.
It may, of course,
be the other way around:
Columbus was discovered
by what he found.
Today, I had no clue where to begin this newsletter, for what feels like the first time ever. I have so much I would like to say to all of you. And, for some reason, my words aren’t coming to me.
I had so many fascinating conversations with dear friends this week, all of whom are signed up for my newsletter. My friends are such fascinating conversationalists. I delight in our exchanges.
One thing I have noticed is how we, as a culture, people (both individually and collectively), and society, struggle to think about ourselves as a collective. This has shown up in both philosophical and practical ways in conversations over the course of my week. Yes, we are a group of individuals, with our own wants, needs, and desires, and at the same time we are also a collective, with predictable and unified movements, whether or not we realize such to be true.
The darkest hour
is just before the dawn,
and that, I see,
which does not guarantee
power to draw the next breath,
nor abolish the suspicion
that the brightest hour
we will ever see
occurs just before we cease
to be.
I have also noticed how far away we place ourselves away from ourselves. We speak easily in distant hypotheticals, but have more difficulty with nearby actualities, in which we, by way of individual movements, take collective action in increasingly expansive ways, which are feasible and possible for us. I believe this is yet another cost of capitalism, which forces us to view whatever it may be as a personal or overall loss or gain.
So much more is at stake than money. Our air is at stake, as is our water, as is the very soil in which we grow. The ancestral ways of the earth, which have always been able to sustain themselves, and therefore us, are being pushed beyond their limits.
The spring rains are not enough to replenish what we are doing. And, life will continue until the conditions no longer allow for us to live. And, even then, life will continue to try to find a way.
In my office, James Baldwin looked over me (atop a zoning map of Baltimore from my grandmother’s attic). In my office, we spent a lot of time staring at and talking with each other. In my office, I was at the center of my world.
My progress report
concerning my journey to the palace of wisdom
is discouraging.
I lack certain indispensable aptitudes.
Furthermore, it appears
that I packed the wrong things.
I thought I packed what was necessary,
or what little I had:
but there is always something one overlooks,
something one was not told,
or did not hear.
I truly hope for a better life for all of us. I truly believe capitalism is not the answer for any of us. I aim to live in the future I envision in the present day.
One of my favorite things to do is sit around and think about what I envision to be a better future. As we work towards dismantling what is not working, I also like to focus on laying the groundwork for what is to come. How do we envision, fund, and implement economies rooted in rejuvenation, replenishment, and rest?
I truly believe the answer is by way of ourselves. Change first happens on an individual level. I challenge everyone reading this to disrupt your alignment with capitalism this week, if only in a small way.
Manifest Destiny is a hymn to madness,
feeding on itself, ending
(when it ends) in madness…
The way back to each other is through ourselves. I have said this many times before, and I will say it many times again. We can access each other collectively by way of a deeper understanding of our individual selves.
Those of us with intersectional disadvantages are already doing more of the work. Those of us with intersectional advantages are already doing less of the work. Let’s apply what we can, know, and are able to apply to collective liberation, instead of capitalism.
Our answers don’t have to be perfect. Our answers don’t have to be complete. I hope our answers can disrupt capitalism in expansive ways, which is no easy task.
I know enough to tell
you to go to hell
and when I think you’re wrong
I will not go along.
I have a right to tremble
when you begin to crumble.
Your life is my life, too,
and nothing you can do
will make you something other
than my mule-headed brother.
After typing “Dear Comrades,” I really did not know what I was going to write. I mean, I had no clue to the point that I was considering taking another bye week, because this is my newsletter and I can do what I want. But, this newsletter is a commitment to myself, first and foremost.
I picked up one of the closest books to where I lay in bed. I only have a small stack here with me in Harrisburg because I have already moved my office to Baltimore. So much is happening, and I have so many updates, none of which I am ready to share publicly, as my life continues its constant process of falling into place.
Thank you for reading my newsletter. This was a long one! I appreciate all of you.
Love, Ryan <3
Ongoing:
Thanks to a donation from Lisa S., I have raised $96.80 more towards the $517 annual fee with beehiiv, in addition to what I have already raised. Thank you to everyone who has donated so far for bringing me so close to my fundraising goal! Please donate here if you can afford to do so. <3
I have moved my office. I still walk down my hall to my office, to visit my heart, as I have for the past five years. My heart simultaneously jumps and drops because it is no longer t/here.
