screentime

1. I cannot remember how I stumbled upon this album but I feel lucky to have done so. A collaboration between the Cellist, David Darling and members of The Wulu Bunun, an indigenous tribe from Taiwan. The sound is mesmerizing. I hope you can listen and feel it’s magic too.

2. I’ve re-downloaded and deleted instagram an embarrassing amount of times in the last few weeks. My phone tracks in grave detail how many times I pick it up and inadvertently open up the app, which when I have the courage to check makes me delete instagram in an appalled frenzy, vowing to reduce my screen time and refusing to become a puppet of the attention economy. I sit on the train, stand in line at the grocery store no phone in hand or headphones in ears, feeling all smug and fancying myself as some sort of modern monk not shackled by technology, no tech neck in sight, staring off into the distance contemplating life. (mostly feeling better than everyone else, which is not a productive thought or even true) Spoiler alert I burst my own bubble a couple days later when I eventually get the app back or scroll through it on my desktop (doesn’t count because phone doesn’t know?) The last time I did this, on my journey back to the world of Instagram I stumbled upon information that led me to have a few really cool experiences in NYC. I got to see an amazing artist, Danielle McKinney’s exhibition in Chelsea with my sister, do a breath work and sound meditation session at a beautiful space in Bushwick with my bestie while the light of golden hour streamed through and Nicki Minaj played a couple blocks away, still heard over the sound of the gong. These two things were glimmers over the last week. They made me feel connected to myself and others, inspired, and ironically, stay away from my phone for an extended period of time. I am convinced there is a very slim chance I would have known about them if not for the universe/god Instagram.

   Besides the throngs of friends and acquaintances, I follow accounts on Instagram that genuinely inspire me, teach me new things, make me laugh and make me want to send things to people I love so it does the same for them. I have several “collections” of saved posts that I have gone back and referenced for travel, books, and recipes. (The least used is a collection of saved posts titled Neck Stretches lol) My cousins and I have a group chat on Instagram inexplicably named Tulum where we only exclusively exchange dog memes. A few weeks ago it got even more specific and only featured Labrador puppies. It legitimately gives me joy and is a special shared moment between us. But on the flip side I’ve also experienced the all too familiar feelings of fomo, the pangs of envy at things you genuinely don’t care for or want to do, stalking the ex, (can anyone explain in detail the psychology of doing this because how can it ever be helpful- is my subconscious mind expecting a post that says- “Bani, you’re the one that got away and I am miserable everyday”) time slipping away as I scroll on a teeny screen, oblivious to it passing. There was also a period of time when I followed a ton of insta-therapy, self-help, spiritual accounts and watching the succession of stories felt like watching a tennis match. I need to have boundaries, but then I isolate myself. I should have compassion but I shouldn’t be disrespected. Connections are special and life and people are complicated, but if it’s not a fuck yes, it’s a no. Have high expectations. Have no expectations. Go slow. Do more.

   In a recent essay by Haley Nahman, she asked for recommendations for activities to do because she wants to be on her phone less. Throngs of people have expressed their own struggles with, essentially, phone addiction, and specifically with social media, and ways to cope and deal with it. I understand the ask was not for a philosophical understanding of the underlying desire to use one’s phone to a point you actively need to find ways not to. (avoidance of discomfort? boredom? dopamine hit?) But instead for ways to spend that time that didn’t have her reach for it. Naturally, there is a lot of advice that’s actually super helpful and practical- putting your phone in a drawer, leaving it at home on walks, putting it in grayscale (this was news to me) etc, with a ton of ways to do something else instead- crosswords, knitting, puzzles, birdwatching. There is an underlying moral hierarchy of sorts in the way in which we fill the in-between time- in the loo, waiting for a train, cooking, and that it has to be spent productively or add some sort of value to our being. To half heartedly scroll on Instagram is worse than making a friendship bracelet. But why aren’t we okay with just doing nothing at all? To not rush to fill the time we want more of which is presumably why we feel icky about losing so much of it on our phones. To be clear, I have this same desire to resist the infinite scroll. Architecture created by some very rich and smart people to monetize off of my attention, but I am trying to find a more balanced and healthy relationship with the app, and ultimately technology in general because it does add a lot of value and convenience to my life, and in many ways even moves me closer to human connection, but at what point does the law of diminishing returns apply? I want to be able to use it without a love-hate relationship that requires me to think about it so much that I write a whole essay about it. For now- I’m practicing intentionality, essentially applying Marie Kondo’s philosophy of whether it “sparks joy”.

   Anyway- I’d love to hear how others have approached this and evolved their relationship to their apps and devices. It’s also not lost on me that you are likely reading this substack because you saw it on Instagram

   

   Sketch by Michael, taken from his Instagram Account (see what I mean!!!) Pen and leaves on paper.

3. I met Michael while I was waiting for the cafe to open at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden a few Sundays ago. I’d venture to guess Michael is probably at least five decades older than me. While we both waited at the same table, he whipped out his sketchbook and a bag full of gathered leaves and petals with which he started to color his drawings. “Nature is the best medium,” he said. I couldn’t resist and eventually we struck up a conversation. He gave me one of his drawings, a bunch of dandelions, and a wealth of wisdom. It was such a beautiful, warm and filling moment. I truly felt I was meant to be at the garden at that precise moment just to meet him. We talked about meditation, our obsession with the garden, of imposter syndrome, and of art never being right or wrong. That it is an emotional expression. The expression of nature, of spring, of music, of longing, serendipity and lived magic.

   

   Watercolor and gathered petals

   

   Morning Dew on a Japanese Peony

   

   My sister, Sheena, contemplating a mound of soil at the Dia:Chelsea