Katinka Hurvig

Category: Writings

  • alien igen

    Crossing the street to walk in the sunny side
    Deciding to turn right at the church after all, so; abruptly stopping at the green light waiting for the one on your right to switch
    Meanwhile,
    a beautiful dude looks up, more vertically than anyone else that day,
    and stretched his arms up in front of his face,
    almost not catching the fannypack somebody throws out the window
    but after all catching it, reciprocating the gift with a thumbs up and a grin like it’s not the first time in a while,
    perhaps it’s become a tradition and they’re enjoying it because it’s a very apartment-core thing to be doing on a Sunday in Nørrebro,

    and as the bagpipe-intro of “run away with me” by carly rae Jepsen blasts kindly through your ears you enter the park on Central Park West and 72nd, and you turn up the music to avoid the singer-songwriter paying endless tributes to john lennon in the Strawberry Field section of that particular entrance, and you’re almost hit by a horse wagon except
    now the song is “daydream in blue” by monster and you don’t know whether to associate it the most to “mr. robot” or “severance” so you’re almost hit by a bike and there’s obviously no horse in sight,

    vi er jo ik I indre by og du har sgu aldrig set hestepolitiet på den her side af søerne
    og du tænker på at de aldrig rigtig fandt ud af hvor sjov, du egentlig er, selvom de roste dit engelske til skyerne,
    du blev så træt af at høre dig selv sige ”that’s amazing” og ”that’s so, so great”.
    Derovre sidder victor lander vist, ham komieren du engang snavede med på nørreport
    Ellers er det jesse plymouth fra den scene i Civil War du aldrig glemmer,
    Fortsat skuffet over ikke at have set andre ægte kendte end Sarah Jessica Parker og Donald Trump,
    Du tænkte at 5 måneder måtte betydet at du rendte ind i Adam Driver mindst én gang, det er jo ik fordi du ikke var i DUBMO hvor han bor eller i midtown Broadway hvor han spillede, men sådan går det jo nok bare når man ikke har råd til en billet og ikke rigtig vidste at det var normalt at hænge ud ved stage dooren
    På stefansgade leger børnehaven yggdrasil, og petra og clive render rundt på det væltede fly men solen skinner og ingen vandpytter er at finde på denne fastelavnssøndag,

    You can’t believe this is supposed to be the danish version of halloween because there are absolutely zero costumes around, and the only scrappy versions of them are hidden. Underneath layers and layers of jackets, and it’s only children, tiny children,
    Where’s the fun in that?? You thought Europeans were supposed to be fun and slightly extravagant, at least in a stylish city like Copenhagen but maybe that’s the point, maybe the city’s too vain to dress up its adults. Not very solidary, you contemplate, as-

    En fyr I shorts cykler forbi med en guitartaske på ryggen der er så lille at det næsten må være en ukulele og det orker du slet ikke
    Mon du kan slippe afsted med ikke at købe en kop kaffe her på det udendørs bord, eller tror hun at de efterladte kopper var dine?  En fremmed mand der sandsynligvis er på vej ind for at købe en fadøl (til) stopper simpelthen op og kommenterer mit klimahandling-klistermærke på min laptop med en thumbs up, og sikke dog et cute community af tommelfingre vi har os i dag her i verdens næstbedste by?

    Jay-z rapper om tribeca og det var rart for dig at finde ud af at der faktisk ik rigtig er nogen grund til a ttage derhen,
    Det var mindre rart for dig at finde ud af at der faktisk ik rigtig var nogen grund til at skrive det her,
    Lettere ubehageligt at erkende at din dagbog måske bare er netop det
    Og du gider ik læse mere om at være en ung kvinde i københavn så hvorfor skriver du det så,
    Tænker du,
    Måske hvis du krydrer det med krydsklip til new york kan der findes relevans i glitchene,
    Ellers er det bare dobbelt op på metropolitan white life
    Og så hårdt har fjerdebølgefeminismen heller ikke brug for din stemme,
    Specielt fordi den ikke er udtalt men bare flyder lidt rundt i dit blod og aktiveres når du nægter at træde et skridt til siden i fodgængeroverfeltet når mændene stormer imod dig,
    Alicia synger om inspirerende lys og du må indrømme at høje gladsaxes betonboliglys i nattemørket i går fik dig til at tænke på et eller andet du ikke har tænkt på længe i det minuts tid, du kørte forbi, før 4A allerede var bumlet forbi din gamle folkeskole

    and you think of a difference,
    Suddenly you give a second to the entertain the though of having a past
    New york is different to you because this is where your stories were born
    These are the corners you turned when in love or looking for a boy to fall in love with,
    The bagel store on the corner of 68th and westend avenue is where your father used to bring you on Tuesday nights after ballet practice,
    And the golden roof on the midtown building is the mythical place you projected all your fantasies into,
    And walking up the circular hallway of the round tower in copenhagen will never do that to you
    It can’t give you anything but instant appreciation without lore,
    There can be no lore if there’s no past, or at least the lore can never belong to you, and so Copenhagen will always begin right now for you, now is when you’ve begun and you can never alter that timeline, only proportionally can it become a long time since the first time, but the case of the childhood stories are forever lost, the adolescence as well and you gotta get moving, sweet  girl, you gotta get moving if here’s wher you wanna experience the rest of your youth, so much in fact that I’d advise you to not really leave, because multiple lives and recurring alienation will take it out of you in ways you couldn’t anticipate because you’ve only heard it from other people’s lore and like I just told you, –

  • too small and how long

    ,

    I used to have photos of my Danish friends glued onto my new york wall
    Now I’ve got front pages of new yorker-magazines glued onto my Danish wall in a desperate attempt to not forget
    I got the pictures from the disposable camera
    They’re dark and grey and blurry
    There’s some of josh and colleen
    But it’s like dan and caitlyn never existed
    I don’t know how to start my scrapbook
    I started it but I did it wrong, I should have printed more photos,
    I don’t want to immoirtalize them in my scrapbook I wanna keep them alive in my life

    I could just go back
    And forget all about the nest I’ve been building
    I’ve been saying over and over this week,
    “I wanna live small for a while” but it’s a motherfucking lie

    I miss the scyscrapers

    I miss the park

    I miss le bain

    I miss here arts center

    I miss the director, the composer, the stage manager and the performers,

    I miss the colleagues

    I miss the roommates

    I miss the administrator of the house I called home

    I miss grays papays

    I miss the breakfast rolls and the bagels with lox scallion cheese

    I miss my view

    I miss the colour of my duvet cover

    I miss the sink

    I miss the rats and enjoying the fact that I hate them a little less than most of my friends

    I miss the memes

    I miss the trains

    I miss coney island

    I miss the locations of mr. robot

    I miss the frozen dumplings

    I miss having places I wanted to go to

    I miss having a list of places I wanted to eat

    I miss being on a train and googling a mr. robot shooting location and getting off at the next stop and there it was

    I miss essex house

    I miss the shuttle to grand central

    I miss Ronkonkoma

    I miss gates ave

    I miss other people’s clothes and i miss DuPoint

    I miss bossanova and I miss the M train

    I miss st. ann’s

    I miss alex

    I miss the secret rooftop and the view of Brooklyn bridge

    I miss the view of Manhattan bridge

    I miss the view of the Manhattan skyline and the stupid statue of liberty

    I miss redhook

    I miss Hannah who was a visitor like me

    I miss knowing where to go

    I miss my mountain bike and the memory of how I got it

    I miss josh

    I miss the tiny plant I bought after 3 days and I hope Claudia and alberte has kept it alive

    I miss the stupid elevator

    I miss the stupid marble steps

    I miss the glorious skylight

    I miss the trash bags on the enormous sidewalks

    I miss off-off-broadway theaters

    I miss discount websites with $12 tickets to LaMaMa

    I miss writing everyday

    I miss drawing every week

    I miss reading on the subway

    I miss walking through the meat packing district in the sun

    I miss learning about opera

    I miss using my text analysis skills

    I miss carly and hope to see her again

    I miss dan and wish he was here

    I hope colleen’s job will continue to be exciting

    I hope caitlyn’s well

    I hope alex will reply to my text

    I hope justin’s ok

    I hope the homeless man outside of gray’s papays isn’t too cold

    I hope there are trans flags in the windows

    I hope sidse’s doing good

    I hope kristin’s taking a break

    I hope the new resident of my apartment is chill

    I hope the sun’s back at the rooftop after a long winter that went by in 3 seconds

    It’s almost been 2 months
    And I’ve been so busy rebuilding my life in Copenhagen
    That I’ve forgotten to nurture the life I left in new york
    I’m gonna text josh now
    And this will be my life for a while
    Bouncing back between missing friends abroad and appreciating friends nearby,
    Grieving the loss of endless opportunities while building other, smaller ones
    Buying an apartment with my boyfriend,
    living out one dream,
    Knowing it’ll never be 36West 74th
    I wanna live small for a while
    but how small is too small and how long is a while

  • things i didn’t know about: working on an alternative opera

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    “Eat The Document” was my debut of working on an opera. The wonderful and brilliant director, Kristin Marting, let me onto the team and taught me exactly what she needed her assistant (me) to do. Clear lines, great communication and transparency made for a work environment where I quickly learned completely new skills – skills that all looked like the world I’m from (theatre), but tasted like something completely different (opera).
    “Eat The Document” was an “Alternative opera”, and coming from a world of pretty alternative theatre, a lot felt familiar to me. A bunch of the methods and the inisticts I’m trained in following as (assistant) director turned out to play a big part in making the experience as wonderful as it was; to me it seems that working with 8 opera performers managing costume changes, measure countings, acting, singing, hitting marks and living through war traumas through the heightened emotions of the opera genre was similar to, say, 7 south african performers building a western movie set while shooting a movie and playing both white europeans while telling a story about apartheid and the human heart of darkness. Organised chaos, high stakes, attention to detail, a caring and talented team that knows the importance of the story they’re telling – I felt all at home in the strange new world I inhabited during the rehearsal of ETD.

    A BEAUTIFULLY CURIOUS WORLD WHERE…

    …the assistant director have never lived in new york before or worked with opera before or read the book it’s based on yet, and so it’s nice for her to know what prototype festival is (embarrassing) and what some basic opera terms mean (embarrassing) even though this is clearly not a basic opera (is there such thing, i guess i mean it’s not”classical”) and what the story is about (why is it so embarrassing to have once not known what you know how? actually dumb)

    … a libretto is a script
    (this one brilliantly written by librettist Kelley Rourke)
    … some words are in italian
    (“TUTTI” is not a name, it means “everybody”, but “ENSEMBLE” also means “everybody”, so that was one of the questions)

    …you can’t just make last minute changes or new endings day before the opening, because a score was composed many months ago and some of it actually pre-covid
    (this one beautifully composed by John Glover)

    … rehearsal schedules are very detailed, rarely chronological and actually kept, because you can’t just rehearse something else because the other performers aren’t there because there’s literally nothing to do for those performers if they weren’t already scheduled in because it’s all music and the music director can’t be two places at once

    … costume changes aren’t to be fucked around with, because you can’t just stall the score, so it’s helpful to know how many measures you have to change into a completely different character off stage, because that might be 15 seconds

    … notes are referred to by measure numbers and not page numbers

    … blocking is by surgical precision and there’s no time or space to write full names or unnecessary words

    … where words are poor; where a moment when a single word, within the music, channeled through an insanely brilliant performer, creates a moment so emotional it gave me goosebumps over and over. “Exasperated move” become nothing but words of reference from director to performer. Useful but ridiculously short of meaning.

    I don’t know if any of this is different from how other people usually work – I’ve been told this was not a usual opera. I’ve come to know that the composer is groundbreaking in mixing genres. I learned that the director, being from the world of theatre and not opera, has a completely and more theatre-based approach to rehearsals (which may be why I felt such at home). I think maybe the fact that the librettist was able to change a few lines during the rehearsals was very unusual, helpful and “flexible”.
    This opera was not devised, I don’t think. It was developed. So much had happened before the rehearsals started, years of research and set design models, of composing and writing and talking with the author of the book. But so much also happened once rehearsals started. I’ve never paid this much attention to blocking, to the importance of a look, of a gesture, of routes through the stage and physical relationships between the characters. I think I’ve learned that there’s still so much space for creativity and ideas and impulses and care and love for the story even though the essence of the material had already been developed. This might be why I love a good script as well. Maybe I should really write more. And spend the time giving it life instead of altering it. At least that’s one way to do it. Worth a try. Stay tuned.

  • “ALIEN” – a staged reading at Under St. Mark’s Theatre

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    THE SCRIPT

    ALIEN – Paper Kraine reading (1)Download

    THE FINAL LAST MINUTE REHEARSAL
    in a dumpling restaurant next door

    THE PIECES

    1 – Like in the movies

    2 – A father’s funeral

    3 – Loving from afar

    (some of) THE OTHER PERFORMANCES

    THE CELEBRATION

  • right before the epilogue

    ,

    I’ve started to repeat
    Im seeing the cycles more clearly, and its time to make some shit happen, to facilitate some narratives, to round up and finish off
    i’ve begun to tie up loose ends
    i’ve literally got zero plans-free evenings left for the rest of my time in new york city:
    that theatre I wanted to come back to, the dance club I still haven’t gone to, farewell dinners and ceremonial trips to the bathroom at mood ring, three of us and I can’t actually remember who the third one was but I think I loved them

    final coffee meetings, people I forgot to invite, people I was sure I’d see again but now I honestly don’t know how it’s gonna happen,
    leaving to long island for 24 hours seem crazy when there’s so much left to do in the city, but im fairly certain that leaving for 24 hours to long island might be one of the most important things I do while I’m here, cause there’s another narrative, an old one, a chapter of a dusty book from 2015 that I need to read again and write the sequel to,

    im in the climax, headed towards the epilogue but I’m not there yet, everything is still about to happen and is happening on every corner of 42nd and 72nd and gansevoort and prescott, and ill remember some of these stories but the ones I wont will still have happened, and I’ll try to channel the ungraspable sensations of love and confusion and appreciation and hangovers and ideas and happiness into a tiny little dumb tattoo, and the tattoo will be what connects us across the sea, an always late subway train but nevertheless the reason we’ll ever see each other again, better late than never, how can I wrap up a story I’m still living?

    Everything else could happen tomorrow and it might be up to me, or it’ll be in the hands of someone else, an opera singer or the light designer I’ll see at tech on Wednesday. Something’s been happening and I’m so fucking stoked that I can only control some of these rituals, the other things will just happen, they will just happen to me, they’ll happen when I’m with the others in new york city as I walk towards the C, probably

  • week 19

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    – calendar candle (from danish christmas market)
    – the turkey from that parade (as seen on friends, where underdog gets away and they lock themselves out of the apartment to look at the giant baloon, and apparently the parade is not just on friends its actually been happening for 98 years. on the street next to where i live)
    – ann (an amazing person who anybody would be lucky to know, including me, at any point in their life, at any place in the world)
    – hyped up friends (after having watched wicked 4D, wauw, as a person who had not even (at that point) watched the wizard of oz i am amazed to this introduction to the lore)
    – an octopus and a whale (from the dimly lit display at the museum of natural history, amazed and entertained and impressed)
    – from “burnout paradise” (the phenomenal cast of ponycam collective minus ava who’s counting the show’s score in the back before deciding whether or not the audience are entitled to ticket refund. i didn’t know this iconic music video before seeing this show but here we ok go. also didnt know burnout could be this entertaining. have seen this show 3 times and would always recommend <3)
    – danielle (an incredible person who, for 3 blissful weeks 9 years ago, was like a sister to me. she was so old, 24, and now a decade went by and everything is the same. nostalgia is my favourite feeling. people are my favourite thing. i’m not over this. i can’t describe this. i just love it so much. i love her so much)
    – leftover police equipment from the parade (and i think we should call it now, central park west, take a break for a while, it’s been marathon and thanksgiving parade and go take a nap)
    – cutting the turkey (cutest and best chelsea at cutest and best thanksgiving. there’s too much to give thanks for to write here, but yes, that’s it, thankful for the rest of my life for these 19 weeks)

  • hold space for me please

    ,

    holding space for this apartment
    holding space for the motherfucking skylight
    holding space for the girl who visited today, newly highlighted hair and her well articulated wits,
    holding space for ann,

    holding space for dan and his bracelets,
    lots of space in his and her apartment
    lots of food in caitlyn’s kitchen
    feeding people I hold space for

    holding space for all these people
    Nathan josh colleen asil
    silly me for ever leaving
    leave their mark on me they will

    holding space for half assed rhyming
    holding space for whole assed timing
    holding space for 4D screenings
    holding space for future meetings

    holding space to come back another time
    leaving the calendar open
    holding space for future projects
    holding space for something completely different that I don’t know yet

    holding space for cuddly couches
    holding space for hugs in subways
    holding space for rooftop coffees
    holding space for slutty costumes
    holding space for body bag cocktails
    holding space for k-town karaoke
    holding space for the steps in front of bossa
    holding space for the C train if it chooses to show

    I’ll hold
    I’ll stay on the call
    I’ll wait for something to show
    I’ll make space and keep it, hold it tight, hold the space so life stays open,
    hold them in my heart in the meantime

    if they’ll hold a space on a couch in bed-stuy
    if they’ll hold my index finger when i say goodbye
    (and probably cry)

    a C train will show up one night
    and I’ll be back to hold them tight

    until then,
    hold space for me please

  • movies, tv and theatre so far

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    films in cinema:
    it ends with us
    speak no evil
    my old ass
    the substance
    joker 2
    we live in time
    the apprentice
    anora
    conclave

    new york-related cultural products:
    american psycho (movie)
    99% invisible “lost subways”, “penn station sucks”, “squatters of the lower east side”, “it’s chinatown” (podcast)
    sex and the city (only had 1 season left) (tv series)
    brooklyn 99 (only pilot) (tv series)
    how i met your mother (began at episode “the best burger in new york”) (tv series)
    studio 54 (documentary)
    frances ha (movie)
    mr robot (tv series)
    just kids (book)
    the new yorker (magazine)
    girls (tv series)
    post show recap: mr robot (podcast)
    sentimental in the city (podcast)

    theatre/performance (full productions):
    family (hoi polloi)
    the marriage (la mama)
    deep history (the public theatre)
    the cursed child (lyric theatre)
    women of will (west end theatre)
    safety not guaranteed (bam harvey theatre)
    the beastiary (ars nova)
    another shot (pershing square signature center)
    walden (Second stage theatre)
    the post poetic machine (theaterlab)
    fahrenheit 451 (st. michael’s church)
    burnout paradise (2 soon to be 3 times) (st. ann’s warehouse)
    frontera (bam howard gilman opera house)
    sleep no more (the mckittrick hotel)
    in the amazon warehouse parking lot (playwrights horizons)
    we are your robots (theatre for a new audience)
    oud player on the tel (here arts center)

    theatre/performance (readings & other):
    ogallala (runthrough of second act) (under st. marks theatre)
    paper kraine (lots of different acts; reading, dance, music etc) (under st. marks theatre)
    catch 77 (lots of different acts) (the invisible dog art center)
    rage (reading) (playhouse 46)
    helen in her homeland (reading) (center for performance research/elif collective)
    la casa del cuco (reading) (intar)
    protect the protectors (staged reading) (the tank)
    the moth: rejection (storyslam) (the cutting room)
    approx. 15 sets of 10-20 minute stand up (stand-up comedy) (the tiny cupboard)

  • the best prompt to spark my personal pure happiness is Flowers by Miley Cyrus

    ,

    Can’t believe this is what im doing right now
    Im sitting in a café
    In tribeca
    In new york
    And they’re playing flowers
    And a year and a half ago I lived through flowers, fell down and picked myself up, inviting people to join me, danced with myself and celebrated all of our failures,
    Will it be the greatest thing I’ve ever done?
    No
    Cause im in new york now
    Booking a fucking hostel in Sydney two months from now


    And don’t stress about finding an apartment katinka
    Don’t stress about your relationship katinka
    All in its time
    You’ve lived for 28 years and the gigantic scope of things you’ve experienced?? I could cry
    Im so proud of you

    You’ve built your life on being a go-getter
    Now give yourself a break
    Receive for a bit, take it chill, find comfort in being a bit homeless for a while,
    Leave the slate clean for other people to fill it out,
    Just try it out,
    See how that feels too
    Youre really good at seeing how things feel, trying one thing and then trying another

    Yes its tempting to apply for a job right now
    To email all the cafes back home
    Or the front of houses
    And you could
    And maybe it would be a good idea
    But today youre in tribeca,
    And the sun is out and you’ve got your gorgeous shoes on to compliment your gorgeous lady body
    And your coffee is cold because you’ve been too absorbed into writing and researching and all the things youre doing when your computer is open

    And your coffee is cold and that’s fine
    But maybe try to see this upcoming spring as a coffee, try to drink it while it’s hot, theres nothing wrong with cold coffee honestly that’ll just be iced coffee on a very hot summer day where the ice melts too quickly,
    But lets do January and February and March as a steaming hot coffee, lets drink it and see what happens in the meantime, you don’t have to control everything that happens, maybe something will happen TO you
    Maybe people will ask you to do things
    Theyre already starting to
    Carol just hired you yesterday for 4 days of intense work in February
    She asked YOU

    And your boyfriend is sweet and kind and struggling a bit and maybe now is just the time to be there for him, not to worry about your own things because theyre going splendidly, just be there for him and enjoy that you’re in tribeca and that the sun is out and that the air is crisp and you’ve got two episodes of Sentimental In The City left,

    Your visa got you in
    Bikubenfonden let you in and gave you an apartment
    Sidse let you in and you’ve learned so much about directing naturalistically,
    Kristin let you in and you’re going to fucking assist in making an OPERA ABOUT RESPONSIBLE ACTIVISM

    And your family is healthy and safe and they love you
    And at the moment, I think, no one is mad or annoyed with you,
    And you might catch a movie with Dan later today and I could cry

    How did you get so lucky? You’ve been drinking cold coffee and you’ve enjoyed it, and im so fucking proud of you, my only advise is to never forget to say thank you, keep thanking your uncle for his money and keep thanking your parents for their support and keep sending videos to your nieces and keep asking your sister about how she’s doing and not just how her children are doing, maybe actually call your sister right now, drink your shitty delicious cold coffee and call your sister to tell her you love her

  • election day: a 22 hour reportage

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    8-9 am


    woke up before the alarm. It’s all quiet, only roomtone and closed curtains.

    9-10 am


    breakfast and live news from Texas, Florida and New York. emails and WhatsApp and instagram trying to make sure I have a flight home and a job when I get there

    10-11 am


    sat on a bench by a voting site, talked to the three volunteers. One of them got hit by a bird poo. Spirits were high and multiple voters expressed their surprise to there being absolutely no line.

    11 am -12 pm

    12-1 pm


    making my way through Central Park towards a library/poll on 53rd. As I walk I remove my jacket and tie it around my waist. It’s November 5th and a man in shorts and a t shirt is ice skating in the south side of the park. Half the ice rink is marked with green cones warning not to skate there; the area is covered in melted ice. I can’t remember if either candidate has mentioned climate crisis or emissions or sustainable energy. My podcast is letting me know of the women-targeted Julia Roberts-ad saying “what happens in the polls stay in the polls” . Weather forecast says 72 degrees at 3 pm.

    1-2 pm


    new york public library

    the woman in front of me is wearing an I VOTED badge, not a sticker, which makes me think she’s more involved than most
    the pen she’s using to work on her touch screen ipad is also a US election 2024-pen
    the sign right in front of me, on the grey concrete wall reads
    VOTE HERE
    <—
    VOTE AQUÍ

    and someone in a serious suit just walked in
    a young woman, younger than I first thought actually, has a sticker on her backpack and it says FUTURE VOTER so I guess she’s not old enough yet
    she’s got beautiful pink glitter on her eyelids and has an expensive looking ipad she’s reading from
    she seems like someone I’d rather put my trust in than the guy in the serious suit
    her nose ring calms me a bit and she’s putting her hands in the opposite ends of sleeves, like she’s cold and wants to snug herself, and I’d rather she was the upcoming president
    two women exited, verbally excited about something it seems like they were given after voting – it looks like they’re nail files. Saying something I can’t read on the back, but I can guess. Doesn’t seem like a guess – everyone’s out to tell the world that they voted. I assume there will be more and more stickers during this day. A woman just accidentally asked students in the quiet zone about voting and were redirected to the man behind the desk next to the polive woman in full uniform. People are looking me in the eye here, smiling (back) at me, it’s like we’re all in it together. They don’t know I can’t vote. They assume I have or that I will. Could I get a sticker if I wanted to? Probably not. I think days like these are really good days for social media to exist. Let them know you voted. Don’t forget to vote. “don’t be a dipshit today. Vote for kamala harris.” Earlier today, when I was at the other voting poll, I overheard the volunteers discussing whether or not mark Ruffalo would come to visit on that specific site. Their shifts are all day, so if he gets there they’ll know. A man brought his dog and walked straight by the man behind the desk. The man laughed silently, shook his head and made eye contact with me. Not sure if he thought it was madness to bring a dog without asking or if he just thought the dog was cute, like everybody here seems to think most dogs are fantastic. At the other poll site, the volunteers offered to watch the dog while the owner voted. The voter put said “I don’t see a trash can so ill put this here for now,” leaving a filled green bag of dog poop on the ground next to the dog. “don’t wanna bring a bag of poop to vote,” she laughed, entered, voted, exited, thanked and left. Its quiet at the library, but there’s clearly a large amount of people behind that wall. I can hear maybe 20-30 voices, calm, explaining, asking, thanking. A guy with a lanyard exits. A woman too, saying “thank you, this is so fun!” and walks by me with a half full dunkin’ donuts ice coffee, a nail file and a sticker on her chest. Polls have been open for 7 hours 13 minutes.

    “it could be such a turning point for this country. Such a turning point. If he loses, he’s not gonna run again. What a terrible person he is. What a disgrace to the human race. What a disgrace. It’s a beautiful library”

    2-3 pm

    been drawing last week: main themes are Halloween, marathon and early voting. Is it a bit overwhelming to live in a city where these things all happen within the span of 5 days?
    Cnn radio: “Turnout so far very very strong, we’ve been seeing long lines. From Philadelphia Pennsylvania: He expects the vote counting to go faster than in 2020. The voters know that this is a battleground state, that they’re gonna have a REAL say on who’s winning. Women’s rights, moral in general. My main concern is the economy, putting the United States first before any other country. It was smooth, in and out within 5 minutes with me. The line was around the corner so I came back a little later. Good process. They may have. It come out and votes if they hadn’t known this was a battleground state and every vote was important.”

    3-4 pm

    walking into a poll site but not a lot to see there

    4-5 pm

    5-6 pm

    dinner and planning where to go with friends, wore my bestest bluest outfit and made a grilled cheese to go, ate it before I reached the c train to take me to the pub in fort greene. I’ve been told the vibe is a party, we’ll see, I’m ready to drink and roar and forget as long as it’s with other people, we’ll see if the party continues or falls flat through the ground, and I’ve been told that it’ll never be a party because nobody is excited about her either, it’s a choice between bad and worse but maybe my friends are wrong and right now I’m hopeful, I’m remembering the joy she was talking about, maybe I’ll fall flat through the ground but right now I’m wearing all blue and feel like I’m about to go to the finale of bachelorette just with different content and I know I’m wrong but let me have this for this one hour

    6-7 pm

    7-8 pm

    8-9 pm

    friend explaining what’s happening at the moment

    9-10 pm

    10-11 pm

    fighting about America, the beauty and the genocide, the disregard and the conversation, yelling, beers and outside the venue, I don’t want to eavesdrop, I’ve got beers, leaving to where I can’t hear their words but only sounds, it’s not my place to intrude this hundred year long discussion or I’m not brave enough to

    11 pm – 12 am

    I’ve been accidentally locked out, I’m sitting with my back against the door trying to keep my hope up but almost every state is red and he’s winning by 1 or 200.000 votes in each, it’s tiny, the difference, on this scale, I have an open beer and a closed one meant for someone else but they’re still fighting, I think, somethings going on away from my hearing distance and something else is going on inside this building that I no longer have access to to, the next polls close in 46:43 and I think they’re the last ones, maybe just Hawaii, trumps in the lead but I’ve been told the west coast will shift it all around but when I look at the numbers it seems that they need one or two extra states in order to reach a majority of any, I’m not sure I understand this, or that it’s real?

    I checked the group chat and it seems like they’re experiencing the same thing

    Is it this really it?

    12-1 am

    1-2 am

    6+6+15+ Michigan is stressful

    2-3 am

    Friend left and now it’s me and other friend, on the curb, in the bar, someone paid for their drink and then they paid for mine, everyone’s got their hands in the praying format in front of their mouths

    3-4 am

    cigarettes and really good conversations, music like there’s no disaster,

    4-5 am

    “we are a very interesting experiment” (USA) – on the a train heading home. Drunk but not very, soar throat of cigarettes, coping with everything, fights and division and dancing on the barstool and almost crying and freezing and mixing and debating and reassuring and now, giving up, how can she count to 270 I don’t think there’s a way if you add them all, the remaining, what the fuck happened to Pennsylvania, this was Fulton street and I’ll be home in 20 minutes

    5-6 am