![]() ![]() (The name, she has written, was inspired by her appreciation of uncertainty.) Just before the pandemic arrived in New York City, Nahman left her job as the features director of Man Repeller, a women’s media site, with a long-held plan to go freelance in late March, she announced the launch of “Maybe Baby” on Instagram, where she has ninety thousand followers. They are the core offering of “Maybe Baby,” a weekly e-mail newsletter, of which she is the sole writer and editor. Nahman, who is thirty-one and lives in Brooklyn, sends out missives like these every Sunday, to some thirty thousand subscribers. “I then proceeded to make the most colorful stoner drawing of my life, which I’m convinced healed something inside of me,” she reported, attaching a photo of herself bundled up in winter clothes, looking peaceful. Three weeks later, she took a small dose of psychedelic mushrooms and walked around a lake. In October, she reflected on the long-term consequences of “collective, inexhaustible despair” in November, she clarified that, despite sounding depressed, she was doing fine, before segueing into a two-thousand-word meditation on anxiety, which she illustrated with a photograph of her cat, Bug, a sleepy Persian. “I’ve noticed that when you hug your knees to your chest and watch the water pitter-patter against your toes, drips sliding down your nose and into your mouth, it feels almost like getting caught in a warm rainstorm.” She recommended reading Ross Gay’s poem “A Small Needful Fact,” a Jacobin essay about socialism, and a profile of Miranda July in New York magazine. “Not to paint too bleak a picture, but I’ve started sitting down in the shower,” she wrote, in September, in an e-mail. She had spent most of the pandemic inside, shuttling around the one-bedroom apartment she shares with her partner, Avi. This content can also be viewed on the site it originates from. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |