There’s something diary-like about Substack… a space where small reflections can live quietly online. When you hit publish, it’s like handing a stranger the key to your notebook. Today, I thought I’d share a glimpse into my more personal life.
Since 2020, I’ve been living in almost total isolation. At the start of the pandemic, my brother Brandon (also an artist) and I moved to a mid-century modern home nestled on a very quiet street near the woods. Since then, we’ve kept each other company. We’ve always been best friends, a bond I’m endlessly thankful for. Nineteen year old Olivia, who once lived in Manhattan, used to dream about complete solitude. Sometimes your thoughts manifest exactly what you daydream, and in ways you never expect.
Since 2019, I haven’t seen live music, sat in a theater, or met someone for coffee… though, on rare occasions, someone will come to my home for a visit. I can count all the times I’ve eaten in a restaurant on my two hands. Recently, I watched Memoirs of an Invisible Man, John Carpenter’s strange 1992 film starring Chevy Chase, and caught myself wondering, “did I become like him?” Is it magic or perhaps a curse?
Some artists seem to have an unusual desire to be left alone, somehow, I’ve managed to manifest that. It’s the extreme opposite of how my creativity was first nurtured. As a student at the School of Visual Arts, I was part of a constant feedback loop, surrounded by peers and professors who lived and breathed their work. My life after college closely mirrored my academic life. That kind of environment builds confidence; the act of creating feels alive when it’s witnessed.
Even now, making work without an audience (beyond my family) is challenging, but it’s also deeply rewarding. I continue to create, hopeful that each piece carries meaning and connection, even if it’s felt quietly and indirectly.
If anyone reading this wonders what this sort of life looks like… well, to earn a living I work from home (a strange gift made possible by the pandemic) and live with a deep focus on my inner world. Home feels like an ashram of sorts. My brother and I are on the same spiritual path, and our days revolve around meditation, yoga, studying the Vedas, listening to music, watching films, creating, cooking, growing, and always learning.
Lately, I’ve felt a growing pull to become a meditation or yoga teacher not only as a way to connect with others, but to help open the door to their innermost selves. Connecting with people on a deeply spiritual level has always been one of the most meaningful parts of my life. When you live in isolation, opportunities for this are rare, but perhaps that’s what makes the moments all the more precious.
Maybe this isolation is only an illusion, a necessary pause that allows me to do the inner work before stepping back into the modern world. There is so much beauty and growth in solitude, but there is also immense beauty in connection. I am opening the door for the universe to allow me to be a light, to practice Karma Yoga, and to positively influence the lives of others while I’m here on Earth.
The outer life and the inner life are not separate; they are the two aspects of the totality of our existence.” - Maharishi Mahesh Yogi
Sharing little crumbs of life like this may be my way of leaving a footprint a quiet proof that even in solitude, we are here: growing, creating, and taking up space one breath at a time.
No posts
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.