It’s not going to appear in my brain on its own, so I need to read, hear, see, feel, and laugh it from somewhere else.

"Listen to yourself, listen to your gut. Because only you know what's right for you. That's what being an artist is all about. Your power is in your individuality, and being exactly who you are. No two artists are alike, just like no two people are alike. That's why there's no competition in artistry, it's not about being the best or the biggest, the king or the queen—that notion is so ridiculous. That competition or comparison is actually the opposite of what being an artist is. As an artist, you should be in competition with only one person, yourself. You can't worry about what others are doing or saying. You have to keep that focus and stay true to who you are in order to be creative and make the best decisions."

Said by Jennifer Lopez in her audiobook True Love.

"TAE, DO YOU WANT TO BE IN MY POETRY CLUB?"

An email with the subject line above was both my invitation and introduction to Thomas Miller's poetry club. 

It arrived in May of 2010, with the body of the email simply containing that week's poem, along with the name of its author and what years they lived. After giving it a read, I responded with an excited yes, saying I'd love to. But I wasn't sure what joining entailed, and if it took place at some sort of gathering or if I'd need to be buying books to prepare. So when I asked Thomas about how to join, my second installment of Thomas Miller's poetry club came with this email subject line: "You don't have to do anything...you just get a poem every week...like this one." 

And until this year, those poems have continued to come. 

I first met Thomas because he worked with my best friend Judy. Thomas and Judy weren't just coworkers who became close friends after years of working together, but they had a genuine friendship and connection. I mean, let's not even talk about them being birthday twins. But because he and Judy were close, I was able to get to know Thomas pretty well throughout the years. 

Thomas was genuinely one of the sweetest people I know. He was kind, and a definite one of a kind. He was loved for his big heart and also known for his unique style. And on top of all that, he was really interesting with tons of knowledge about art and whatever fine cultural events were happening in the city. On almost every day of the week, you could find Thomas out at an exhibit or sitting in the audience of some gorgeous production. Even the last time we hung out one-on-one was to watch ballet at Lincoln Center last year, which was my first time ever doing so. He loved anything that celebrated both the visual and performing arts and once told me he's "obsessed with looking at beautiful things." And this wasn't just for when he was outside his house.

Some years ago, a tough transitional phase of mine had me going through a long period of couch crashing. When Thomas heard about this through Judy, he generously offered to let me stay in his spare bedroom for a few months as I got back on my feet. Thomas had been living in his place since the 80s, so stepping inside his home was a deep immersion in who he was. Practically every inch and corner was decorated with some item. The spare bedroom I slept in was filled with things as well, from eccentricities I couldn't stop staring at to shelves of books and delicate figurines. And because there was no Internet connection in that room, a small analog tv near the bed was what I usually used to break the silence as I admired my surroundings. Being there in his home with all of the things he loved comforted me in a way. I was so used to living out of a suitcase with minimal belongings, and that's why Thomas' place was a great reminder in the serenity that can come from a home with stuff that brings you joy.

Sadly, Thomas passed away last weekend. His funeral was yesterday, and I was grateful to be able to go and say my goodbyes. You can read his obituary here, and also a recent article about him here. And as for Thomas' poetry club, while they became less frequent in the past few years, he had kept up sending out his poems since he first signed me up a decade ago. The final poem Thomas ever sent was on January 5th of this year.

While going through old photos to look for ones with Thomas, I found the following ones below I took at a work dinner of his, Judy's and their colleagues. This night is from exactly ten years ago in February of 2010.

Rest in peace, Thomas. You were a light to many.

Thomas Miller (1958-2020)

The past few weeks or so.

The past few weeks or so.

Why are there so many movies and tv shows about writers, you ask?

Well, because writers write them.

"I'm a singer and a songwriter. And a bartender. And a babysitter. On weekends I host four course dinner parties for $65 a plate. And I make soap to sell online. And candles. And tea baths. And hair conditioner. And shampoo. Basically I'm broke. And I need a vacation. But I'm on the move. And I'm not stopping until somebody writes me a check for some of my music."

From the December 8, 2018 post of the Humans of NY Instagram account.

The past few weeks or so.

No one is one dimensional. Perceptions are.

Writers writing about writers.

"Creativity and ego cannot go together.

If you free yourself from the comparing and jealous mind, your creativity opens up endlessly.

Just as water springs from a fountain, creativity springs from every moment.

You must not be owned by our own obstacle.

You must own the environment, the phenomenal world you live in.

You must be able to freely move in and out of your mind.

This is being free."

Said by Jeong Kwan in the Netflix series Chef's Table. Season 3, Episode 1.

I watched Moonlight yesterday afternoon, and really liked it.

The story and acting were so moving, and the entirety of the film was completely transporting. Its visual experience was also intense, which on top was heightened by an awesome soundtrack. What the main character goes through felt tough to watch at times because no one should ever endure what he did. And that feeling of helplessness and anger seemed so relatable. To watch him be punished for simply being, the injustice was too much. As a gay man, there were definitely emotions from the main character that felt familiar. Throughout the entire movie, it was just like wow, how do you even create something this amazing? I loved how it engrossed me and made me forgot about everything else in life, except for the rumbling of the nearby subway of course. I watched the movie at Angelika and hadn't been to the theaters in years. The last time I did was actually also at Angelika to watch The Lunchbox, so feeling the train was a funny throwback.

I was thinking again just now about the ending of the movie. It made me realize that my conclusion about it could've been wrong. And that the story of the characters could've lived on in a different way, which made me happy. The film has been in my head since watching. There were so many layers to the story that are still being peeled back.

"He believes deeply in focus---clearing away whatever he doesn't need to worry about so he can concentrate on his art---and now has a retinue of helpers. He gets three meals delivered each day, so he doesn't have to think about food; he has a stylist and a nutritionist and a trainer..."

From the May 13, 2016, New York Times article: A ' Hamilton' Star's Story: How Leslie Odom Jr. Became Aaron Burr, Sir.

What's learned from the movies and Hollywood should never be considered how things in life actually pan out.

That's someone's art being experienced, not a real life account of how shit happens.

"You know, being from Queens---that's as good as it gets right there."

Said by Nas in the documentary Time Is Illmatic.

It's all in how it's captured.