“Totality (Non’s Version)”
If you only saw a partial eclipse, unfortunately, we are not the same.
I’m now an eclipse chaser, finances and schedule allowing.
My partner drove us a total of about 20 hours (sorry, I don’t have a US driver’s license!) to catch the “Great American Solar Eclipse” — or “the eclipse that could be seen from North America” as I prefer to call it — in totality.
We ended up so far north of Vermont that my phone thought I was in Canada.
I’m sure there are a million pieces of writing detailing everyone and their mothers’ experiences in TOTALITY, but here’s “Totality (Non’s Version).” Buckle in, it’s quite the ramble.
During 3.5 minutes where we can look at the eclipse without protective eye wear, we were in a different dimension. It brought me back to being 13 years old, seeing the Andromeda Galaxy through a telescope and immediately throwing up in my mouth. I cried about it constantly in whatever existential blabber a child could muster over the following months. 15 years later, I like to think I have a better handle on my nervous system.
But the pure awe in its beauty, a visceral fear that reminded me I’m ultimately an animal at the mercy of natural phenomenons, and the combination of feeling so special to have gotten to experience this and feeling like utter dust in the face of how the universe just works, all bubbled up and pop pop popped inside me. All the cells in my body burst in this boiling pot and re-coagulated as the stony pupil of a cyclops watched on.
It reminded me that I had a giant poster of Odilon Redon’s “The Cyclops” in my high school dorm room.
The following week, New York was ablaze with “Did you see the eclipse?”
But it was obvious who went out of their way to see it in totality, simply by how they shaped “eclipse,” not just with their lips but with their whole heart.
“Did you see the eclipse?”
Yes friend, we were there together.
***
On the drive home, we crawled our way through horrible traffic in Burlington. Surrounded by the exuberant bluetooth-speaker-techno-bliss of University of Vancouver frat house #EclipseParties I saw a sunset on Lake Champlain that could have been the finishing touches to The Romanticization of Non Kuramoto.
“Can we get closer?”
I begged my partner.
The last thing he wanted to do was add any more minutes to this drive.
But I was high from the eclipse. I wanted nature to keep reminding me how insignificant I am. I wanted to keep being mesmerized.
As we got closer to the lake, we saw less of it and more PRIVATE PROPERTY signs. Hedges loomed between us and the lakefront properties to ensure that the views are truly privately owned.
***
The traffic on our way back was seriously relentless. Bumper to bumper in the middle of the woods. Everyone who came to see the eclipse, whether they arrived on Friday, Saturday, Sunday, or in the morning were leaving that Monday evening.
I tried to keep my eyes open in solidarity with my partner.
We sat, too tired to even talk, amongst machine-made constellations, speckled with red break lights. Drifting between blurry views of nighttime woods in Vermont and dreams coaxing me to let go and join their world, I felt like we were part of the Dream Parade in Paprika. A parade of NEW MANIFESTATIONS of people (I don’t care if you don’t believe in woo woo shit, you are a different person after seeing totality) waiting in line to reemerge into wherever we came from.
As the yin and the yang of the world would have it, unspeakable bliss comes hand in hand with suffering. Maybe not the literal ‘I’m in a horrible state and I need help’ kind of suffering, but the dull ache of knowing euphoria and having to accept it can only come in doses. How many of us are going to be able to seamlessly return to our day to day without this friction sanding away at our tolerance for bullshit? How many of us will grow numb to that confusion of being human and go back to accepting the notion of the sky, the mountain, bodies of of water enclosed as PRIVATE PROPERTY to be some sort of truth? Will the discomfort and comfort split our bodies in two? Like the moon peeled away from the sun? My want to keep chasing totalities is also an expression of my desire to make experiences M.I.N.E. There’s a part of me that thinks spiritual communion with the solar system can be chased.
Painful bottled up memories, intense love I felt for the person behind the steering wheel fighting to maintain focus to get us to a comfy bed, rage towards how landownership continues to evolve into personal entitlements to what simply exists and sorrow for those who buy into this system - without an eclipse to slow down time again, all of these feelings rushed towards me a little too quickly in this purgatory.
I didn’t throw up but I still cried.
A lot.
Some of my friends told me they cried during the eclipse.
I don’t think I had the wherewithal to.
I cry decently often, but I’m always surprised when I do.
A psychic once told me I don’t know how I feel.
She said, “People think you’re repressing your feelings, but you actually literally don’t know a lot of the times.” And that tracks.
It’s during the hangover of an emotional experience when everything that should have and could have made me cry spark up like little fireworks.
I know this post didn’t necessarily feel very FPOJ, but I’m sure these thoughts will make their way into a song some way or another.
THESE BEAUTIFUL PHOTOS, except for the painting by Redon (duh), are from the 4/6 show at 3 Dollar Bill shot by Annalie Bouchard. It was a fundraiser organized by the Association of Trans Law Students at Fordham University Law School and quite EPIC. It was the biggest stage, biggest crowd, QUEEREST crowd we’ve played so far and we had so much fun.
After our set, there was a crowd pushing against the merch table and they screamed when I took on my role of merch vendor. Someone even asked us for our autographs. It was deeply affirming to get to play for an audience who geeeeets us. I felt so lucky to be making art where I can occasionally get delusional like, “Wait, are we famous?”
So grateful to be in community with some of the most sparkly people.
What’s coming up next?
We have THREE SHOWS in May!!
Happy Taurus season - abundance abundance abundance.
5/8 we have a show at Bar Freda in Ridgewood
To anyone who has been reading this Substack since the beginning - you may notice, it’s our ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY SHOW! And we’re doing it, that’s right, RIGHT WHERE WE STARTED.
5/15 we’ll be back at Knitting Factory at Baker Falls in the Lower East Side.
Re: my ode to Pyramid Club!
5/30 we’re at Rubulad (also again!)
And there might be a special surprise… follow up on IG!
My birthday is 5/12, so all of these shows are birthday party coded.
In lieu of getting me a gift or buying me a drink, please buy a ticket to a show. Or even better, buy merch!
I am so proud of first president of japan for making it through our first year (really coming in STRONG too!) And grateful for all of the support we’ve received and to the bands and audience members we’ve met along the way.
Thank you for reading, as always.
BIG LOVE,
Non
