Monthly Archives: November 2007

Lydia Hearst is an artist.

“I sit down and I write what I’m thinking and what I feel—it happens all at once, I never stop writing. Probably when I go home tonight, I’m going to open my computer and just start typing… I always envision myself being a Hemingway type—sitting in a dark corner with my glass of, I guess it would be, my glass of tequila and lime juice– that’s how I do it.”

Recently, she’s been hanging out with a group of young people who call themselves “the 2.0.” They include a giddy gaggle of creative aspirants such as photographer Nadav Benjamin and musician and nude Internet dude Cisco Adler, whom she has dated.

“I would say my closest friends are probably the 2.0,” she said. “It’s not about a clique, it’s just about a group of people coming together and it’s a lifestyle—it’s a bond. … So many young people are wrapped up in the party scene. The great thing about everyone in this group is, we all have real jobs, we get up in the morning. We work and that’s what brought us together…We are hardly ever apart. It’s all artists—everyone in that group is successful in their own right, whether it is music, fashion, art, photography, business. We don’t want to compare ourselves to the Factory, because you can’t have the Factory without Andy Warhol, but essentially it is like a new wave and it’s a new style of living, and we are all just riding the wave, we are all being inspirational to each other and we are helping each other out and we are always there for each other, and we are hardly ever separated for more than a day—each one of us has the same mentality, which is breaking free of the mold that is the stereotype of society and the way that we are expected to be.”

Last month, the 2.0 gang went out and all got tattoos of a skeleton key; Lydia’s is on her inner right forearm. “The symbolism behind the skeleton key is that it opens every door and it’s bonded us together,” she said.

Today I am going writing out in Earlysville with my friend Selvi. Together we form an artistic movement called Future Warehouse. Yesterday we got matching tattoos on the back of our writing hands – the Chinese character that means “We’re better than you, so there.” We have a lot of ground to cover today, not only with our short stories but also with our mission statement and our indie theme song. My mom knows about the Future Warehouse movement, currently based in her pool house, and hopefully this afternoon she will bring us some tea and more money to fund our creative operations.

Leander Wapshot, one of the great characters in John Cheever’s Wapshot Chronicle, is the slightly neurotic patriarch of an old New England family. To keep him out of adulterous mischief, his cousin Honora lets him captain her boat, the Topaze, and ferry passengers down the river to the local fairgrounds. He loves his job. “‘Tie me to the mast, Perimedes,’ Leander used to shout when he heard the merry-go-round.”

But one stormy day he crashes his ferry on the rocks and it sinks “to the bottom of the sea.” He writes to his son Moses (in his unique style) for the money to repair his vessel:

“Topaze gone, how will I fare? Geezer as old as me begins to cherish his time on this earth but with Topaze gone days pass without purpose, meaning, color, form, appetite, glory, squalor, regret, desire, pleasure or pain. Dusk. Dawn. All the same. Feel hopeful sometimes in early morning but soon discouraged. Sole excitement is to listen to horse races on radio. If I had a stake could quickly recoup price to repair Topaze. Lack even small sum for respectable bet.

“Was generous giver myself. On several occasions gave large sums to needy strangers. One-hundred-dollar bill to cab starter at Parker House. Fifty dollars to old lady selling lavender at Park Street Church. Eighty dollars to stranger in restaurant who claimed son needed operation. Other donations forgotten. Cast bread upon waters, so to speak. No refund as of today. Tasteless to remind you but never spared the horses with family. Extra suit of sail for Tern. Three hundred dollars for dahlia bulbs. English shoes, mushrooms, hothouse posies, boat club dues and groaning board consumed much of windward anchor.

“Try to help old father if within means. If not, feel out acquaintances. There is one easy spender in every group of men. Sometimes gambler. Topaze good investment. Has shown substantial profit for every season, but one. Grand business expected in Nangasakit this year. Good chance of returning loan by August. Regret handkerchief tone of letter. Laugh and the world laughs with you. Weep and you weep alone.”

Leander’s wife Sarah is able to secure a loan from the same bank that turned down Leander, and with the money she converts the Topaze into “The Only Floating Gift Shoppe in New England,” breaking her husband’s nautical heart.