I'm in the middle of packing all my shit but I wanted to heartfeltedly thank you, my beautiful reader peoples, for the outpouring of friendship and general support. I'm excited for the future, and you'll know all about it. You bet your asses it's going to get interesting. Thank you so much for reading me. Thank you for treating me as a friend. It's a great honor to write for you all. XXX CW
That is some sad shit Cintra, one, because moving is , well, in the spirit of CW, like a manual abortion, and two, I didn't run into you, but knowing you were around made it seem like SF was okay. I loved your fashion writing back in the day, and am glad you are keeping Substack. I love the story of the guy who hated the picture you painted of his ugly daughter- it made me howl. HOWL!
You should consider filming yourself reading your plays. More playwrights should try it.
You are a real writer and artist whether the world pays or not. it's a shitty time to try to get paid in the arts, so you have plenty of company. It's also really hard to get a real job, so kudos to you!
Tell us about your new job, and I encourage your BF to join you. The Norcal light is indeed wonderful and memorable. You will still feel it, I promise.
I just moved to Vegas and this hit home for me. Raped by the movers, check. Too much shit to pack, check. Friends who conveniently “disappeared,” check. All the “sawz all’s” to the heart (the most brilliant line ever).
The longing for “home” has made me feel like I’m home already. It’s where I am. Where my laptop is. Where I have my words. It’s where you are too. In this weirdly digital world, you have a jillion readers who care about you.
I know I do. I care about you. I avidly read everything you write. You aren’t alone. And your new life will be awesome and terrifying until you get used to it. Hugs. And I’m sending my book 📕 🔜. Promise.
Yes, books (books!) and lots of other stuff just become "What's this, Grandma?" objects. It's funny when things skip generations, like where did all that mid-century furniture live out the 80s and 90s until "they" decided it was cool again? All the stuff, slumbering in Grandma's living room, attics, basements, and America's 10 kabillion square feet of U-Stor-It space.
I worry about California (I have never lived there). How long can the cost of living keep going up? It seems like we've been hearing that question for 40 years at this point. NYC (I grew up in Manhattan) is it's own little micro-economy, but I figure all the artists that used to live there are now occupying illegal warehouse squats in Perth Amboy, since everything within 20 miles of Times Square is $500 a square foot.
I hope your new town is a nice place, and your new jerb is at least interesting, in addition to being life-sustaining (fuckin health insurance, amirite?) If you happen to be moving to Savannah, let me know. :)
I know that once you've lived in a megacity, like LA, SF, or NYC, anyplace else (even metros of 1 million) seem small. But there's still a lot of life and art to be found, even in cities of 150,000 like mine.
My Dad would occasionally teach law, instead of just practice it, and he once found himself telling his young students "You will have multiple careers in your life", and that they looked at him with 20-somthing incomprehension. They were law students who had their paths planned and could not see any deviations in their future. But my Dad knew, and now I know, that when you're 20 you haven't a damn clue what you'll be doing at 40, or even 30, and forget about 50. And that's actually good, right? Like the coyote that lives in Central Park you will thrive wherever you wind up.
Anyways, Bon Voyage, happy trails, good luck, and don't forget to write,
Good luck. The wife says she's throwing away everything when I cack--good, it'll give her something therapeutic to do, because the task is quite beyond me. Maria Kondo, if that's her name, can go take a leisurely stroll on a long pier. I gave up that shitty life of waiting by the mailbox for someone to deign to pay me for something I wrote three months ago; I'm now a commuter and a civil servant, and if I stick with it, I'll be pensioned off in 2028. So, the best of luck to you, and let us know what your new life is like.
Your writing is thrilling, just thrilling. l'm so with you as you travel, as is the Great Magnet.. l hope it beams you away to shine. Thank you for who you are, you can truly write ♥️
Cintra like they have said those who say in the most reliable cultural barometer we have -the cartoons -you never know where you're going till you get there. Enjoy your writing tremendously hope you land somewhere inspirational.
Girl, same. Went from a Sausalito houseboat to a Chicago midcentury co-op two years back. Done with the tech bros & poverty, but I do miss morning runs at Lands End and the view from Sutro Heights Park. Pulling for ya, sister ❤️🙏🏼😘
Sympathies and identification with almost all of this, Cintra (except I didn't get into the game early enough to have had anything like the career you had). I think all the time about getting a real job again, and the day when I will have no choice is probably very near. I'm sorry you have to endure this. Just know that for some of us you are always and forever a superstar.
I could not be more excited!!! F--k yeah you have a new destiny afoot and I’m psyched to see what’s next! YOUR CAREER HAS AND CONTINUES TO BE AWESOME. YOUR WORK IS INCREDIBLE AND YOUR VOICE IS A NECESSARY ONE THAT I FOR ONE NEVER WANT TO DO WITHOUT. Calling your a--!
Reinvention and renewal is necessary and happens whether you’re ready or not. Every time I’ve gone through the process I’ve come out the other side a better person and in a better place. Just getting there is scary as shit sometimes.
Cintra, that is a compelling piece I can strongly identify with. I have file cabinets and boxes full of scores that will likely never see the light of day or be played by anyone. I would need a full time assistant to bring any of that back to life; a laughable non-option. Writers, composers - we work in such a vacuum most of the time, and in the end it doesn't seem to matter much. I lived in the Bay Area for 38 years before moving to Seattle in 2015, leaving a marriage and great musician friends to be with my current partner. Although I don't regret it, I miss my friends. I am a native Californian and it's hard to watch what is happening to it. I wish you a good new life, and hope you find stability with your new work.
Strong stuff. Very real. I said goodbye to the writing "life" some years ago and it was a bitter thing to do. What is best in lit and art, I try to make my lifestyle. You are your own writing country, CW, with a universe of poetry inside.
I'm in the middle of packing all my shit but I wanted to heartfeltedly thank you, my beautiful reader peoples, for the outpouring of friendship and general support. I'm excited for the future, and you'll know all about it. You bet your asses it's going to get interesting. Thank you so much for reading me. Thank you for treating me as a friend. It's a great honor to write for you all. XXX CW
FUCKIN LOVE YOU GUYS
That is some sad shit Cintra, one, because moving is , well, in the spirit of CW, like a manual abortion, and two, I didn't run into you, but knowing you were around made it seem like SF was okay. I loved your fashion writing back in the day, and am glad you are keeping Substack. I love the story of the guy who hated the picture you painted of his ugly daughter- it made me howl. HOWL!
You should consider filming yourself reading your plays. More playwrights should try it.
You are a real writer and artist whether the world pays or not. it's a shitty time to try to get paid in the arts, so you have plenty of company. It's also really hard to get a real job, so kudos to you!
Tell us about your new job, and I encourage your BF to join you. The Norcal light is indeed wonderful and memorable. You will still feel it, I promise.
Good luck!
Warmly,
Mme Wuppertal
I just moved to Vegas and this hit home for me. Raped by the movers, check. Too much shit to pack, check. Friends who conveniently “disappeared,” check. All the “sawz all’s” to the heart (the most brilliant line ever).
The longing for “home” has made me feel like I’m home already. It’s where I am. Where my laptop is. Where I have my words. It’s where you are too. In this weirdly digital world, you have a jillion readers who care about you.
I know I do. I care about you. I avidly read everything you write. You aren’t alone. And your new life will be awesome and terrifying until you get used to it. Hugs. And I’m sending my book 📕 🔜. Promise.
This made my heart smile. Love to youse.
Couple of thoughts:
Yes, books (books!) and lots of other stuff just become "What's this, Grandma?" objects. It's funny when things skip generations, like where did all that mid-century furniture live out the 80s and 90s until "they" decided it was cool again? All the stuff, slumbering in Grandma's living room, attics, basements, and America's 10 kabillion square feet of U-Stor-It space.
I worry about California (I have never lived there). How long can the cost of living keep going up? It seems like we've been hearing that question for 40 years at this point. NYC (I grew up in Manhattan) is it's own little micro-economy, but I figure all the artists that used to live there are now occupying illegal warehouse squats in Perth Amboy, since everything within 20 miles of Times Square is $500 a square foot.
I hope your new town is a nice place, and your new jerb is at least interesting, in addition to being life-sustaining (fuckin health insurance, amirite?) If you happen to be moving to Savannah, let me know. :)
I know that once you've lived in a megacity, like LA, SF, or NYC, anyplace else (even metros of 1 million) seem small. But there's still a lot of life and art to be found, even in cities of 150,000 like mine.
My Dad would occasionally teach law, instead of just practice it, and he once found himself telling his young students "You will have multiple careers in your life", and that they looked at him with 20-somthing incomprehension. They were law students who had their paths planned and could not see any deviations in their future. But my Dad knew, and now I know, that when you're 20 you haven't a damn clue what you'll be doing at 40, or even 30, and forget about 50. And that's actually good, right? Like the coyote that lives in Central Park you will thrive wherever you wind up.
Anyways, Bon Voyage, happy trails, good luck, and don't forget to write,
Also, I have boxes if you need some.
Good luck. The wife says she's throwing away everything when I cack--good, it'll give her something therapeutic to do, because the task is quite beyond me. Maria Kondo, if that's her name, can go take a leisurely stroll on a long pier. I gave up that shitty life of waiting by the mailbox for someone to deign to pay me for something I wrote three months ago; I'm now a commuter and a civil servant, and if I stick with it, I'll be pensioned off in 2028. So, the best of luck to you, and let us know what your new life is like.
Nice to hear, actually.
Your writing is thrilling, just thrilling. l'm so with you as you travel, as is the Great Magnet.. l hope it beams you away to shine. Thank you for who you are, you can truly write ♥️
Cintra like they have said those who say in the most reliable cultural barometer we have -the cartoons -you never know where you're going till you get there. Enjoy your writing tremendously hope you land somewhere inspirational.
Girl, same. Went from a Sausalito houseboat to a Chicago midcentury co-op two years back. Done with the tech bros & poverty, but I do miss morning runs at Lands End and the view from Sutro Heights Park. Pulling for ya, sister ❤️🙏🏼😘
Thank you Lady. Nice to hear from a houseboat sister.
Sympathies and identification with almost all of this, Cintra (except I didn't get into the game early enough to have had anything like the career you had). I think all the time about getting a real job again, and the day when I will have no choice is probably very near. I'm sorry you have to endure this. Just know that for some of us you are always and forever a superstar.
Thanks Carl. I have a new role in society and I'm actually kind of psyched about it.
I could not be more excited!!! F--k yeah you have a new destiny afoot and I’m psyched to see what’s next! YOUR CAREER HAS AND CONTINUES TO BE AWESOME. YOUR WORK IS INCREDIBLE AND YOUR VOICE IS A NECESSARY ONE THAT I FOR ONE NEVER WANT TO DO WITHOUT. Calling your a--!
Reinvention and renewal is necessary and happens whether you’re ready or not. Every time I’ve gone through the process I’ve come out the other side a better person and in a better place. Just getting there is scary as shit sometimes.
Now go! 😎
Thank you, I feel this a lot. It's a birthing process. Moving is just so fucking horrible.
Sometimes fear of a real job is worse than the real job itself. HAVING MONEY IS AS PEACHY AS THE LIGHT IN CALIFORNIA.
It will be very nice to not be paralyzed with fright about my income.
Cintra, that is a compelling piece I can strongly identify with. I have file cabinets and boxes full of scores that will likely never see the light of day or be played by anyone. I would need a full time assistant to bring any of that back to life; a laughable non-option. Writers, composers - we work in such a vacuum most of the time, and in the end it doesn't seem to matter much. I lived in the Bay Area for 38 years before moving to Seattle in 2015, leaving a marriage and great musician friends to be with my current partner. Although I don't regret it, I miss my friends. I am a native Californian and it's hard to watch what is happening to it. I wish you a good new life, and hope you find stability with your new work.
Strong stuff. Very real. I said goodbye to the writing "life" some years ago and it was a bitter thing to do. What is best in lit and art, I try to make my lifestyle. You are your own writing country, CW, with a universe of poetry inside.
I ❤️ you! Onwards and upwards my dear. I’m with you every step of the way.