Hello hello, welcome back to this week's edition of Sunday Chillin'! Apologies for missing last week, I was on a roadtrip and got delayed before I could post on Sunday night. As payment, I've included a photo of the milky way that I took on this trip at the end of the newsletter. Hope you like it!
Slow Down
When I was in high school and college, I used to be super meticulous about my handwriting. I would literally spend entire class periods writing out the alphabet on printer paper in various fonts and styles just to see how neat I could make each letter.
I suppose that everyone's handwriting must be some amalgamation of all the letters they've seen before, but mine at this point is purposefully Frankenstein-esque. Quite often, I'd find a letter or a style that I liked from someone else and I'd shamelessly try to steal it. And I took great joy in the process of writing, even if what I was writing would look unhinged to anyone reading it. Sheets of paper would be peppered with random words and phrases, simply because I thought they looked aesthetically pleasing. [1]
Honestly, I can't say that the individual characters were ever anything worth writing home about, but one thing I did nail pretty well in those early days was the spacing between letters (and words). Because of this uniformity, people would often comment that my writing resembled a font. Of course, if they peered even a little bit closer, it looked nothing like a font at all, but the illusion persisted at a distance. [2]
Recently I've been thinking about how I should get back to doing those sorts of slow activities that have no real practical value, but that I enjoyed doing anyway. Ultimately, the process mattered much more than the result, and I sort of miss that whenever I type on a computer. Obviously, typing allows me to output way more words per minute, but maybe that also makes me less thoughtful about what exactly I'm writing? Not sure, but I wouldn't be surprised.
One caveat here though is that there actually is such a thing as going too slow. At some point, I focused so much on the neatness of the letters that I lost out on writing like myself or on being spontaneous with my words. It's a bit embarrassing to admit, but when I'd write letters to friends (a habit I picked up in the last few years), I would type out the letter first and then transcribe it onto a card so that I wouldn't have to cross out words or mess up the neatness. In short, I missed the forest for the trees.
This story has a happy ending though! Nowadays when I'm writing a letter to a friend, I pretend that I'm sitting across from them at a table and write in a much more conversational way. This does mean that letters go on a bit longer than before (since they're not vetted so carefully) but it results in a much more organic product. [3]
Somewhat tangentially, I was also much better at whittling away at difficult hobbies back in the day. I imagine this probably rings true for most people reading this too (or maybe I've just truly fallen off). I recall spending hours memorizing algorithmic sequences for Rubik's cubes and watching countless videos on how to solve faster and faster. Last week I wrote about cardistry and alluded to the fact that I sunk an unholy amount of time into that hobby as well. It just takes me a long time to get better at things so I have to keep chipping away until the proverbial boulder budges a bit.
Do any of these have any practical application? Absolutely not. But the satisfaction that one gets from feeling a sense of progress is hard to beat.
It's also been liberating to realize that I've never needed external validation to pursue these sorts of "pointless" activities. If we're being completely honest, 99.99% of people would never notice any of the work I put into making my handwriting better or that I could solve a Rubik's cube 1 second faster than the previous week. And I certainly wasn't doing any of it for fame or an award. I'm not sure what an award for that would even look like. Most Time Whiled Away In Pursuit of Infinitesimal Progress maybe? If this award does exist, please contact me, I would like to display this plaque on my mantle. [4] Or maybe on a wall in my office. [5]
This newsletter is once again reaching its unofficial length limit, but as a closing note, I invite you all to seek out these sorts of slower hobbies and activities when you get the chance. It feels like we get so caught up in the newest and shiniest fads, but there's a lot of value to be had in taking your time and savoring the small moments. [6] And learn to love the struggle too! Otherwise you'll probably never feel the sweet sensation of progress ever again...nah I'm just kidding. But seriously, do it.
Merry Easter Mr. Sakamoto
The music world lost a wonderful composer this week. Ryuichi Sakamoto, a Japanese composer, passed away at the age of 71 due to complications with multiple forms of cancer. He created some really wonderful music, and much of it was slow, measured, and poignant. You may be familiar with Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence (included below), the song that he's probably most well-known for, but many of his other songs echo the same sentiments.
However, I also want to draw your attention to old albums by him where he really showcases his range, combining experimental techno with future funk. I highly recommend giving his discography from 1975-1985 a listen! I've also included a remix that I found many years ago that I haven't shared with many people. But now, lucky you, I shall share it here. Hope you enjoy!
And finally, as promised, here's that milky way pic:
See you all next Sunday!
suhaas ———————————————————————————— If you'd like to share this newsletter with your friends, please direct them to this link. Here are Spotify and YouTube playlists with all the songs so far.
[1] I was going to include some examples but then I realized that it would give real "Omg I'm so random aha" vibes so I decided against it. I'll leave this as an exercise for the reader.
[2] Objects on paper are messier than they appear.
[3] I actually got this idea from a guy named Rajiv Surendra, who played the math nerd Kevin in Mean Girls (2004). Apparently he lives a whimsical sort of lifestyle in NYC now and he has a whole series on YouTube about how to do things the old-fashioned way. Think "how to bind your own books" and "how to make your own candles," not "how to perform surgery without anesthesia" or "home remedies for the bubonic plague." I wouldn't be against the latter examples, but he probably just hasn't gotten around to them yet.
[4] I do not have a mantle. I'm not actually even sure what a modern mantle looks like. Has architecture advanced past the imposing mantles of yore that evoke the sternness of an overbearing patriarchy? I hope there's at least one remaining somewhere out there.
[5] I also do not have an office. The life of a student is not filled with such luxuries, unfortunately. No doubt that the atmosphere around Stanfy exudes Wealth and Prosperity, but that's at our expense. What good is a $40B endowment if I can't even have my own office? I'll be leaving a strongly-worded review on Google maps.
[6] This honestly deserves its own newsletter (and I'll write it eventually) but this focus on the small moments is something I really appreciate about Studio Ghibli films. I think I touched on this briefly in one of the very first newsletters, but I love when a scene in one of the movies will linger on a seemingly mundane moment, like when someone is sweeping the floors or stirring a pot. It's an everyday occurrence but it's depicted with such love and care that it becomes something meaningful. There's a lesson to be learned there, I'm sure of it.
[7] This newsletter's first SoundCloud link! I actually listen to a lot of songs on that accursed platform so there will surely be more to come soon.
