selected writing
I. a guide for museum-going for passerby magazine
Ideas for revitalizing your museum rituals, according to women in the arts.
A museum visit is always worthwhile, regardless of your art realm expertise or motivation for attending. For those intimidated by art spaces, allow the guide ahead to feel preparatory and inspiring. For regular museum-goers, embrace the following as a tool for reflecting on your typical viewing routine and a bank of new ideas for shaking it up.
on planning your time
Setting an intention for your visit can make for a grounding start. What are you hoping to get out of this particular window of time, out of this particular place, out of this particular show? Your intention can be as broad as spontaneity or openness, and perhaps it’s rooted in what makes your destination unique.
For a contemplative or transcendent experience, a solitary, tech-free visit to a quiet space like the Noguchi Museum and its garden makes sense. Filmmaker Isabel Sandoval, who treats “a visit to the museum like meditation,” says, “I prefer to visit alone so I can spend as much time as I want with artwork and explore the different sections at my own pace.” Comfort is also key for this type of visit; publicist Fatima Jones recommends wearing comfortable shoes, packing light, and opting to wear a fanny pack or small crossbody bag.
Curator Vere van Gool speaks to museum visits as an academic and informative quest, where bringing a notebook might be especially useful. To Vere, a visit to the museum is “like reading a book” and ideally a solitary act, though she does like to visit with peers for public programs, workshops, events, and openings to “discuss and contextualize the works in the current moment in time and place.”
There’s also the possibility of liveliness and a social layer. Curator Molly Surno says, “I like going to museums with someone I'm in love with, so in my case, my husband. He's a painter, so our conversations and viewing are so dynamic because we help each other see things from unique perspectives.” And everyone’s idea of an ideal art-space date or visit with friends looks different. For some, it’s conquering the vastness of The Met together, and for others, it’s stepping through a small gallery like Karma, Shrine, or Marta. There’s also the ability to theme your visit through embracing seasonal offerings — like the Walker Art Center’s Valentine’s Day party — which guarantees a vibrant hue.
on navigating the museum
Smaller museums or galleries offer solid grounds for beginners (or anyone, really) to build and explore viewing practices, as there’s less room for overwhelm and more room for intimacy with the art. When visiting a larger museum, it’s easy to feel clouded by the infinite approaches to moving through the works. Fatima says, “I admit that I try to pack in as much as I can, but sometimes at big museums like the Brooklyn Museum or the Smithsonian Museum of African American Art and Culture in DC, it's impossible to see it all.” In a situation like this, bring your decisions about navigating the space back to your intention, and from there, decide on what’s most worthwhile to make time for.
The passersby that we spoke to agree that it’s best to overlook pressure to see as much as possible, instead rerouting your path based on what feels natural. Isabel says, “I remember spending nearly four hours looking at only the Hilma af Klint pieces at the Guggenheim in 2019. My approach is more intuitive than structured—I do what feels aesthetically pleasurable to me.” Vere adds, “Follow the beauty. Museums overflow information on audiences, from entire time periods to oeuvres of artists. I can find it illuminating to let aesthetics guide me, but I often get lost or skip entire parts of a museum. I also often end up in a storage cupboard or some other place I am absolutely not supposed to see. Alas.”
If you’re gravitating towards a more structured visit that doesn’t center intuition, Fatima recommends asking the front desk for some assistance and reading up on exhibitions before arrival: “Most of the time curators have a preference for where they want visitors to begin. Most museums have visitor experience [services] or guides who are more than willing to assist with questions.”
on spending time with the artwork
It’s official that you’re allowed to bypass pieces that don’t feel right and spend as much time with those that do. When it comes to how you interact with a piece that does make the cut, consider listening to music (like Passerby’s curation of healing instrumentals) while you view, journaling, sketching renditions of what you see, meditating before or after visiting, or getting studious and taking notes. Try people watching and imagining why any given passerby is viewing the piece that they are, and then enjoy a post-visit cocktail or a non-alcoholic refresher while you reflect on your time.
Capturing photos poses another mode of connecting with the work in front of you. Molly believes in phone photography, while Vere takes photos with her camera to make sure she doesn’t get disturbed by the noise of notifications. Fatima takes pictures to “go back and replay the experience, but sometimes pictures won’t do the work justice and then you just have to enjoy the [moment].” Isabel, on the other hand, tries not to take photos at all, “unless the artwork is [really] striking or not available online,” trying to “be present and engage with the artwork with complete attention.”
Taking time with the placards alongside works of art can also enhance your viewing, but it’s ultimately another matter of preference. Molly usually prefers “[basking] in the feeling of a piece” like this one at the Met, but she says that reading before viewing “can help access something more esoteric or help you focus if you need to stop people watching for a bit.” Isabel adds that labels and audio guides can be especially helpful “when it comes to more abstract [or] postmodern pieces that deviate from the more conventional definitions of art that [she’s] aware of.” Fatima always opts to read or listen, particularly for historical exhibitions and out of appreciation for the work of curators.
If your gaze goes directly to the artwork — like Vere, who feels distracted by artist descriptions — there’s nothing wrong with skipping over the text altogether. Plus, Vere mentions that you can always snap a photo of the placard to get the data on hand without present-moment distraction. You can also embrace the placards as creative tools rather than informative truths. For example, approach a piece that confuses you, refrain from reading its label statement, try to come up with a description of your own, and then compare it with what you read. Approach a piece that feels obvious in meaning and do the same. Or, avoid prompts and structure at all costs if that’s what feels right.
This guide is merely a collection of ideas — an invitation to take what resonates to your next museum visit, and to leave what doesn’t.
(Images by Clémence Polès)
II. a guide to toledo, spain for passerby magazine
Only a half-hour train ride from Madrid, Toledo is a quiet Spanish haven and historical hub with something for everyone.
Renowned for the preservation of its Old Town and its compelling Christian, Muslim, and Jewish heritage, spending any amount of time in Toledo is set to delight history buffs and architecture enthusiasts, but it’s equally bound to nurture anyone wanting to get lost in the cobblestone and take it slow. A visit in February – March or October – November is ideal to avoid tourist floods and curve unfavorable weather; you can find warmth even beyond summertime, as the Toledo sun shines with force whenever it’s out.
what to see
You won’t need a guided tour to grasp the cultural depth that defines the city. That being said, it’s well worth your time to make visits to some core sites for religious architecture. My favorites include the Synagogue of El Tránsito in the Jewish quarter (which offers free admission on weekends), the Convent of Santo Domingo El Antiguo featuring work by El Greco, and the Cristo de la Luz Mosque dating back to 999. Of course there's Toledo’s notorious Cathedral as well, but I believe in giving other spaces some love, too.
I always gravitate towards contemporary art over all else, so the Roberto Polo Collection brings me joy when Toledo’s aesthetic deviance from contemporaneity starts to feel heavy. Offering free access, the gallery is set up like a maze with a defined pathway to encourage a mindless flow through the works. Look out for the sweet curation of chairs on display.
I gave the Torture Museum a shot, too, even though I normally avoid spots that exude tourist trap energy. I found it to be a really fascinating way to learn more about the Spanish Inquisition — the history and timeline are presented through the lens of how each contraption functions. It’s unsettling and bizarre, but I’d recommend.
I think any local would suggest visiting la Biblioteca de Castilla-la Mancha, Toledo’s beautiful library. It’s located in the heart of the city and central plaza, and it’s renowned for having the best view of Old Toledo. I’d concur, and would add that their cafe –– which sits on the sky-high top floor –– is a quality spot for a 1€ beer and a satisfactory tortilla española.
what to do
I’m embarrassed to admit how many times I've ended up at Medina Mudéjar, but no frequency could ever overdo it. You can find Arabic baths all over Spain, and they’re inexpressibly dreamy — truly fit for romance, friendship, or solitude. You’ll encounter small pools of different temperatures (spanning hot to warm to cold), a steam room to bask in between each, and complimentary cookies and tea set out for you. A visit here is also in order for anyone looking to learn more about Mudéjar architecture.
I’m not sure if anyone relates, but I love trying haircuts in new cities, and I’m so glad I did so in Toledo. A haircut at Frann is like a performance — one conducted by a true artist whose process is laced with drama, sharp movements, and twirling. It’s hard to put into words, and I was completely pleased with the final product. I walked away with an amazing micro-bang, curly chop, and full-on show for 30€ and in only 30 minutes.
Perfume shopping is another favorite way to feel out a fresh environment, and I often like to purchase a fragrance during my travels as a sort of aromatic document of the trip. Whether you’re in the market for a high-end perfume or a more affordable one, Toledo accommodates. Visit Florence-born Aqua Flor in the Jewish quarter for the former, which offers a strong selection of florals and is so pleasant to spend time in, if nothing else. For the latter, I’d recommend Fragancias, which offers 6€, natural dupes to just about every designer fragrance. They have an extensive catalog to guide your hunt, and you can upgrade your purchase with adorable little floral-printed bottles for an additional few euros.
Toledo is incredibly sparse when it comes to shopping for clothing, so I never found anything truly up to standard. A helpful reality for limiting spending, I suppose. There are still a few spots for antiquing that I’d recommend, though. Discover a wonderfully overwhelming maze of ceramics at Cerámica J Serrano, and miscellaneous tchotchkes, from charms to jewelry to vases to tins to religious artifacts, at Brocante Toledo. I also adore the jewelry at C. Trinidad, 6; the owner Beatriz is lovely and has a great eye.
must-try food
Spain is so bread-intensive that it’s impossible to spotlight only one bakery. My top picks for quick stops are Benipan for spanakopitas and Leche y Pan for napolitanas. If you’re looking to sit down, Teteria Dar Al Chai has a cozy interior and the best savory crepes, while Masa Madre makes a great carrot cake that you can enjoy in a quaint courtyard with colorful seating. And artisan Abigail Cohen is a must for picking up Sephardic-Jewish pastries.
A go-to brunch spot, I’ve been served the best orange juice of my life at Cafetería la Pepa. It’s a true gem for can’t-go-wrong basics if you’re struggling with heavier Spanish food. The yogurt is unreasonably good also.
In addition to its mesmerizing multiple floors, warm ambiance, and comfortable booths, I’ve frequented the treasure that is Restaurante Marrakech for the 5€ shawarma, the charming owners, and the versatility –– it’s a reliable choice for a solo lunch or a night with friends (with shisha).
La malquerida is easily my favorite going-out destination in Old Toledo. They defy siesta culture and are not only open all day and into the night, but they’re completely alive at all hours. As another pull, you can find fresh vegetables and salads here, which was strangely hard to come by elsewhere (ha).
La ermitaña is a nicer option with a gorgeous view of Old Toledo. You can’t quite walk to it from the main plaza (without conquering a mini-hike), but it’s worth it for high-quality seafood, perfect vegetables, and a classier mood. Definitely fit for a special occasion.
drinks, from coffee to cocktails
I sincerely believe that the best coffee in Toledo awaits you at Il cappuccino. On top of a quality product, though, the barista is really knowledgeable and passionate. Your order comes with a perfect dose of conversation and education. The café con leche was my go-to.
If you know Spanish, I highly recommend the tasting room at Museo del Queso Manchego for anyone curious about cheese and wine from the region. You can even drop in for a glass and a small plate at the price of only 5€, featuring a little crash course on what’s in front of you from the owner (who’s really delightful).
Like shopping, Toledo’s nightlife is sparse. I’d recommend planting at a restaurant (like La malquerida) for a fun night over scoping out the bar scene, but your best bet for a more standard bar is O’Brien’s. It’s really just your average Irish pub, but it’s incredibly central to the main plaza and guarantees a good time with good music.
If you’re eager to dance, Círculo de Arte is a church reimagined as a club, which makes for a funny spirit and feels on-brand for Toledo. I’d say it’s also the least grimy and least university-dominated club in the city.
final thoughts
My months spent living in Toledo disturbed my United States upbringing in all the right ways, mostly in the sense that I learned how to move slowly for the first time. I gradually departed from my to-do list fixation, my self-inflicted pressure to be punctual without fail, and my unnecessary aversion to sleeping in (for the sake of granting myself a productive morning).
And this slowness wasn’t exactly a choice — Toledo is small, and it’s incredibly Spanish in its complete devotion to the 2:00-5:00 siesta, to the extent that it feels virtually impossible to access anything other than the town’s only Starbucks in that timespan. I was pushed to make my way home and just rest each day. I could elect to lay in a park, too. Peace is completely wired into Toledo, and time spent on its premises makes that hard to ignore and hard to refuse.
With slowness also came space to prioritize meaningful connection with and consciousness towards all of my surroundings. I felt incredibly clear and mentally available to enjoy the coffee I sipped and the many heartwarming storeowners I crossed paths with. Forever holding onto my soaks in the baths and my daily bread fix.
So, while other corners of Spain like Barcelona and Madrid are set to provide a high-energy experience with lots to stimulate, I encourage a visit to sweet Toledo, too. You likely won’t fall into a wild night out or pick up much style inspiration, but you’ll surely recharge and cherish the breath of fresh air, which completely transformed me for the better.
(Images by Eva Berezovsky)
III. responding to maya deren for anyone girl
I’m low in my waking hours, lids peeled open, waiting for the sun to end. Feels smoother to fold over into myself, twist into how I am when it’s night, dark, in the nurturing discretion of a black sky. Charge the black sky with you. Let my eyes shut, see you.
Conjure your apparition, twist and fold into you. I believe you to be everything (I wish to be).
Corpses, dead in night, wrapped in each other. Twist and fold into you, inhabit your aura, step in and stay.
You move with an understanding that all space is for you, ready and waiting. It wants to be yours, so do I, I want to move like this, contort.
Each of your tastebuds takes on its own tongue. Each eyelash is a tress. Fingernails, faultless blades. I want to feel this, feel you, be you. You are absolute, everything, and tomorrow, I’ll wake up —
מודה אני
— but I’ll find myself astray, low, all over again, no stars, a dreamworld corroded. Lids peeled open after a night with you, I’ll tie my laces. Live out my day, wait for the sun to end.
tracks to pair with the silent film
.. A Colour Named by You (Instrumental) by Dawn to Dawn
.. Cristo Redentor by Donald Byrd
.. Let Us Dance (Arca Remix) by Beverly Glenn-Copeland
.. Bound (with Blood Orange) by Wet
IV. web copy for marissa zappas perfume
background
Completed freelance. Marissa’s fragrances have received praise from Vogue, New York Times, Vanity Fair, and more. I refreshed her product descriptions, professional bio, and more to transmit the beauty of her aromas through the screen.
sample I: ‘annabel’s birthday cake’ product description
This eccentric blend awakens pure celebration, sweetness, and the bliss of embarking on another trip around the sun. Inspired by writer and certified astrology expert Annabel Gat, rich tuberose frosting and candied rose petals on a bed of fluffy white cake carry the bottle’s warm, pastel essence.
sample II: ‘the pink bedroom’ product description
A commemoration of Portia Munson’s "The Pink Bedroom," this limited edition fragrance evokes plastic doll heads and strawberry candy by way of cassis, heliotrope, rose de mai, orris resinoid, strawberry, and musk.
sample III: travel vials product description
Stay fresh wherever you roam. All fragrances are available in 10 mL travel-friendly vials at $40 each.
sample IV: bio for marissa
Marissa Zappas is a perfumer, scent designer, and poet whose ethereal and nostalgic fragrances blend fantasy, reality, the gothic, and the modern. Her approach to perfumery finds fuel in her background in anthropology, her admiration for avant-garde perfumes of the early twentieth century, and her collaborations with New York City artists.
Marissa believes that perfume — both creating and wearing it — conjures our past, present, and future selves. Her academic work explores the intersection of perfume’s history, attitudes towards death, and the history of cemetery construction. While completing her M.A. and ethnographic training, Marissa also worked at Givaudan and later became an apprentice to master perfumer Olivier Gillotin.
Marissa has lived and worked as a freelancer in New York since 2017 and is now represented by Agence Grace, the premier agency for independent perfumers in Paris. She’s available for scent design projects, including fragrance, candle, and home goods development. Contact her at marissa@redamance.com for more information.