The gift of forgetting

Making room for new memories and a new website!

Welcome to So Relatable, a newsletter for creative folks who want to make things that matter. To support my creative work, buy my zines! ✨

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A few weeks ago,

Haley Nahman

wrote a newsletter about forgetting, a beautiful meditation I read at exactly the right time. Forgetting, she muses, isn’t always irresponsible or tragic. Sometimes it can be “an intentional and respectful loosening of one’s grip on the past in favor of embracing the present.”

Forgetting—and her sister, memory—have been on my mind lately. I’m in my 40s now, but instead of fretting over gray hair and wrinkles, I’m worried about dementia and Alzheimer’s. To protect myself, I’ve started doing crossword puzzles and eating hemp seeds by the fistful, hoping to ward off the most insidious part of aging: losing myself.

I wonder if it’s too late; I’ve forgotten so much already. I have only a handful of clear memories from undergrad, and that’s not just because of the cheap wine and other activities. My 20s in Texas have sunk into a haze of red brick roads, bike riding, and roller derby. I thought memories—camping in Big Bend National Park, reading my work at open mics, crossing the finish line of my first marathon, meditating at a Buddhist monastery, my brief career as an academic librarian, my wedding day, our first dog Seamus—would be like a beloved television show you could replay on demand. Instead, they’re an echo at best, a dream I feel rather than recall upon waking.

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Until a few years ago, my entire adult life was oriented toward a singular artistic goal—write and sell a novel to a major publisher.

For a while, it felt like I was close to achieving this goal. I published lots of short stories and essays. I won a few fellowships and awards. I got an agent and went out on submission. I had conversations with editors who wanted to buy my books.

But “almost” is a deep chasm, and I fell into it. My lifelong dream, my singular goal, remained out of reach.

Over the last two years, I haven’t written much. I needed time and space to figure out if the dream I’d been clinging to for over 20 years was still possible, still relevant. And if it wasn’t, I needed to figure out what could take its place.

This was not a great time for me, artistically speaking.

But slowly, I found a way forward. I read The Artist’s Way (and finished it!) and it had a profound effect on how I think about creativity. I decided to capture and express those feelings in a zine, a throwback to my earliest creative endeavors. These projects helped me see the myriad ways there are to live a creative life, to pursue art and self-expression, to connect with others, to make things with your brain and hands and heart. I accepted that my creative life could be more than writing and selling a novel to a major publisher, and it felt so much bigger, rife with possibility and potential.

But that old goal still hung heavy over my head, and it made every step toward something new feel like failure. I was ready to loosen my grip on the past so I could reach for something else.

Because we love a symbol, I decided to mark this transition by deleting my personal website (designed to look like the digital home of a novelist with a major publisher) for one that better reflects the artist I am and the one I'm becoming.

I’m a human who writes stories and essays, who makes comics and zines. I’m scrappy and self-published, and you can buy my work on Etsy or read it for free in this newsletter. I don’t believe art needs capitalism’s stamp of approval; traditional publishing requires too many compromises and I already make enough of those. I'm learning and experimenting and trying new things and sharing as I go, because the whole point of art is human expression, human connection.

Artists aren't made by book deals. Artists are made by making art. It's a lesson I keep learning and forgetting and learning again. But at least I’m still learning. 💛

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🌻 Relatable Recs

• Reading: I’m on a graphic memoir kick right now, because I’m working on a new zine that’s turning into more of a graphic essay (VERY EXCITING). I just finished Gender Queer and now I’m reading Murder Book. Both are excellent in very different ways. I’m learning so much!

• Watching: We just started The Studio and besides being fast, funny, and kind of slapstick, it’s also a great little commentary on the struggle between making art and getting paid. Seth Rogen is an absolute doll.

• Exploring: We took Hugo on his first climbing and camping trip at Pilot Mountain two weeks ago, and he did so well! He’s come so far from the untrained, unsocialized, utterly reactive dog we adopted in December, and it felt so good to know he will be able to fully take part in our adventures!

• Growing: The spring garden is in full swing! We’re finally getting blueberries, the peas and carrots are almost ready to harvest, the cucumbers are perfect, and our cherry tomatoes are starting to explode. Spring is the best!

• Working: I’m sending this on a Tuesday from Charlotte, because I’m at my company’s annual user conference and time is meaningless. So far it’s been busy but a little more chill than years past, which is nice. Last night I explained the difference between “work friends” and “friends I met at work” and it wasn’t just the prosecco talking! I’m lucky to love so many people.

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💛 Coffee Club

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👋 About Me: I’m Chrissy Hennessey, an enthusiastic snacker and native New Yorker living in coastal North Carolina, where I stayed after earning my MFA. My writing has appeared in a decent number of journals, I’ve received fellowships to some fancy residencies, and I’ve written three unpublished novels. This newsletter is a passion project I started in 2019 as a way to connect with artists and writers, share my creative journey, and build a community. Thank you for being here!