Hey everyone,
Inspired by an interview in The Atlantic with my favourite author, this photoessay builds on themes from my last postcard: international transitions and creative rebirth. It also features photos from our trip to Chile back in October (slowly clearing the backlog lol). π«π
Take care and blessings from Rio!
Jodi
PS. Wanted to extend a big, gushing THANK YOU to those of you who reach out via text, email, heart on the post, etc. as you follow Postcards along. Thank you for being here and reading along β means the world to me!
Queuing for customs to the sound of a delightful Spanish ballad that inspired phone-infused Marcos to eventually lift his gaze from Instagram to say, "beautiful song", I read an article about my favourite writer. While I am the kind of fan that immediately clicks anything about her, the provocative title struck a chord as I shuffled through necessary airport nuisances: "Rachel Cusk Won't Stay Still"
Thomas Chatterton Williams begins the article by qualifying his admiration for Cusk and detailing his electric scooter-powered journey to her swanky Parisian apartment. As surprised as I was with what I considered a forward way to kick off the interview (he asked how she could possibly leave the blissful countryside of England for Paris) I was enamoured by her invigorating response:
"If you're a person like me, you cannot resign yourself to a life of repetition."
Travel is central to my affinity for Cusk's works. The first book I read of hers, Outline, is a witching account of a writer's journey to Italy for an event. The novel consists of entrancing patches of dialogue, often eavesdropped and eloquently meditated on by the narrator. Seething and the opposite of carefree, Cusk's "lethally intelligent" novel implores the reader to believe thereβs something true here. If not for you, personally, then at least, for these not, not real characters:
Perhaps it was that β the loss of belief β that constituted his yearning for the old life. Whatever it was, he and his wife had built things that had flourished, had together expanded the sum of what they were and what they had; life had responded willingly to them, had treated them abundantly, and this - he now saw - was what had given him the confidence to break it all, break it with what now seemed to him to be an extraordinary casualness, because he thought there would be more.
More what? I asked
'More - life,β he said, opening his hands in a gesture of receipt... (Outline, p. 16)
Because big transitions grip me, I inhale the dialogue about Cusk's intriguing move. Like most life decisions, her rationale is strewn with reasons and cloaked in context β Brexit; sheer means; idiosyncratic hankering for a change. What I found most interesting in the exchange about her move, is her perspective on location as a source of creative rebirth:
"β¦to really change artistically does require some breaking down of your personality, and breaking down deep sediments of your identity. And nationality is definitely one of those."
Highlighting the artistic opportunity at stake, Cusk doesnβt mince words. Destabilizing oneβs national identity and transporting to a new country inevitably results in a lack of coherence, βa breaking downβ. Things donβt fit like they used to. With mundanity and familiarity out the window, there is no choice but to experiment and reconfigure.
There is no choice but to create.
Before I moved to Brasil, I was planning a move to... maybe Spain? It could have been a lot of (warm, beachside) places though. That was the point. I was propelled by a carnal calling to leave Canada β the world too big and my life too small to not.
In my pre-departure deliberations, I asked friends who'd moved abroad about their experience. Before I could touch on any specific questions or doubts, they would, without fail, empathically respond: βDO IT! BEST DECISION EVER!β Later, they may touch on some of the less glamorous parts but sometimes enthusiasm is sometimes all you need. Or, as Barack Obama claims in A Promised Land, it at least βmakes up for a host of deficiencies.β
Looking back now, moving abroad is just one of those life decisions I canβt imagine not having made. Is it THE BEST DECISION EVER? Maybe. But itβs not even about that (and besides, I still think laser hair removal is up there lol). Itβs that it was an essential decision. Itβs made me feel both more alive, and less me. Itβs been wildly ego-dissolving and identity-making.
It has been all the things.
Back in the Santiago airport, we promptly queue to board the plane amongst other minimally conversing couples and problem-solving parents, armed with baby wipes and Cheerios. Marcos and I spend the entire flight back editing pictures. Me mostly adding when I think itβs too orange or grainy, and Marcos working his magic. We hold hands. Say βcan't wait to get home" where I know I'll be comfortable on my couch, planning the next trip, and contemplating other moves.