Rite of Spring (interlude)
March's mix/reflections, updates, resources, and...hope?
Hola mi vida,
It’s humid where I am. You don’t have to know where that is, but it’s calm. If you’re reading this —the audience as of now would seem to be intimate, though I’ve seen a couple strangers trickle in (welcome, beautiful strangers)— maybe you could already guess. Maybe we ran into each other at that really dope thing I was at a bit ago, which I’ll write about in the future.
More important than being loud to me right now is the holy silence where things are made. It’s something I’ve only recently allowed to accompany me. As someone who thrives off writing in notebooks in the middle of crowds and doing bibliomancy mid-rave and drafting things on notes in chaotic environments and on the move before I anchor myself to a desk (usually on a plane), I’ve become newly acquainted with stillness, particularly in the morning. Considering the fact that to make cohesive things one need to sit still, that’s probably a very good thing.
All of this to say that silence right now is a privilege. Anyone with a U.S. passport should be actively speaking out against everything that this government is doing to those of us in more vulnerable positions as far as legal status is concerned —and that is the very fucking least you can be doing. It’s hard not to break. It’s hard to focus on literally anything else, or feel like anything is worthwhile. As a naturalized citizen, as a Venezuelan, it’s infuriating and heartbreaking every single day to see the xenophobia and the very real incarcerations and inhumane condition Venezuelans who aren’t in my position have been put into because of racism, populism, carelessness, lack of humanity, political positioning and so much bullshit that runs so deep. I look at both my passports sometimes and kind of chuckle darkly. Sometimes you have to laugh to not cry.
The human rights atrocities happening as you read this at the CECOT mega-prison in El Salvador to people without due process or any reason other than their status is the natural progression of everything that so many of us have been yelling about when we talk about the hyper-militarization of the U.S.-México border, what so many of us talk about when we talk about Palestine. I wish every atrocity happening in the world fit in a paragraph.
I was recently having drinks with a new friend. A moment of stillness. The day before, photographers Miguel Ángel Rojas and Berenice Giles died tragically at AXE Ceremonia. Some asshole came up to us and asked me for a cigarette (I didn’t have one) before talking about the deaths and proceeding to say that the media attention around them is taking from the conversation around the death camp that was found in Teuchitlán. It struck me that with all the mass death of the world, all the tragedy —Palestine, Congo, Sudan, Haiti, Yemen, Venezuela, México— there are those of us who, even with the good intentions to bring attention to these situations in dire need of our attention and resources, have become desensitized to what it means to lose one life. You feel it, when you lose someone close to you. Do not fool yourself into making of death a number when a person is a world.
It’s these moments where we have to convince ourselves of the importance of beauty and of our stories, to be loving where we can when we’re not being proactive, in our little corner of the world, at tugging whatever loose thread we can find tied to the greater cloth. This small section of a newsletter won’t move the needle. Hell, even your donations won’t move the needle. I know some human rights lawyers who have quit because they felt the active work of years wasn’t moving the needle. We have to keep going, keep our eyes open, and keep our energy up, as much for ourselves as for the person next to us as much as for everyone who does not have the option to surrender. The time to protect and uplift each other has been here. Never too late to get with the program.
And speaking of the program, soon on El Underground:
-By the end of the month, a fourth mixtape, hopefully on SoundCloud done as an actual mix (I compile it slowly throughout the month now so I’m not scrambling).
-At least the first edition of my Q&A with Clarissa Bitar’s translated into Spanish
-Rather than a dual interview, one interview with one of the badass Dominican producers I mentioned (I wanted a double interview…but realized this makes more sense as far as time and honors both of those great conversations, which brought different ingredients to the big soup I’m stewing on this newsletter)
This means May’s edition will have another interview on lock, and will see translations of one (or both) of the LYRICs I’ve written. I’m trying to be realistic with this project, as I juggle it along with all the other things I can’t announce just yet, but fill me with vigor and energy, the longer-term writing projects of the soul (as well as a few very cool interviews and one VERY sickening essay coming to a computer screen near you in May/June).
All of this to say I’m trying to conceptualize this newsletter as a cheeky supplement to my work and a way to connect with all of you through the heart rather than as a magazine. I’d also very much like to syphon as much actual journalism/criticism in here as possible because the model is no longer sustainable and hasn’t been for a while, especially for freelancers (and for those of us with stable jobs, from what I hear —my homies with the weird permalance contracts and the fucked-up newsroom situations, me quito el sombrero).
And for my next trick…what was the tea with March?
My birthday month wasn’t bad to me, and neither was the first half of April. I felt monastic and focused, hunkering down into routines and trying to implement the systems I made at the top of my 29th year. I mostly stayed in México, where I had the honor of having a mezcal with the poet Moira Egan on her hotel balcony (read this poem, take a shot). The end of the month brought me to AWP for the first time, and it reminded me that the work of community is also writing, and the importance of sharing. I needed some time to remember that, and I’m happy that I do now. I spent the first half of the month continuing to get it together. Maybe that will be an eternal project. A lot of you were very kind about the very long two-part essay on Arca. I don’t regret that it was a report anchored by my experience rather than something else. There are things that are simply too personal. It was sweet to have that received warmly.
And now here I am, talking about March halfway through April. Time is discombobulated. Sometimes it feels that way with meticulously-researched works made digital, the ones that appear here or otherwise. The poet Rachel Rabbit White said it best: “take the selfie and / add it to the void.” For better or worse, I try not to be someone who crafts without care. Maybe this is why it takes me a minute. Maybe this is why you read up to this point, why you read me at all. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.
Ah, and before I forget, and because I didn’t do February and I feel like this is for this section of the newsletter and the LYRIC should just exist as an essay or a poem, and because time is discombobulated:
March’s Ins
-Salsa on vinyl, still, specifically the Fania re-releases Craft Latino is putting out
-Bimbo existentialism
-Waking up early to exercise, non-begrudgingly
-Zoom classes on esoteric topics taken purely for pleasure (thank you Wonder and Pasolini and, specifically, Chariot Wish)
-Tramadol (but just a little bit)
March’s Outs
-Unwarranted bad vibes
-Mess
-Grey hardwood floors
-Fried Oreos
-Half-tucking in a button-down shirt
-Fascism, which was also out last month (and the one before that, and before that)
All of my love,
E
Mutual Aid and Resources
National Immigration Detention Bond
Freedom for Immigrants is an immigrant-led, abolitionist organization based out of California committed to ending immigration incarceration that has been around for over a decade. They’ve helped 460+ families raise money to pay bonds and provide individuals with post-bond services, including housing. Donate here and learn more at the above link.
AXE Ceremonia Fundraiser
Music photographer CJ Harvey organized a photo-print fundraiser which includes backstage and live photos from The Marías, FKA Twigs, Crystal Castles and others. All proceeds go directly to the families of Miguel Ángel Rojas and Berenice Giles, with the fundraiser ending on the 20th.
Displaced Palestinian Families in Cairo
Denizens Society has been supporting both recently evacuated Gazan families in Cairo as well as those who were stranded in Cairo when the border closed. In 2025, with Rafah’s border re-opened, they will embark on a family support program for 100 families consisting of rental assistance, food vouchers, an extensive psychological support program, group empowerment training, and fun days for the kids and parents to find community. Donate and follow them on Instagram.
*This list is rotating and non-exhaustive, changed monthly to highlight different causes. I pledge a part of paid earnings to each cause, and do my best to vet them. If you have any concerns, comments, or urgent aid links to send my way for the next one, please email (work@erpulgar.com) or DM me.