Hi again! Happy (?) official summer. (?) because: The world feels like it’s ending. Everyone I know is having an existential crisis (myself included). Things feel out of control and sad and unfair.
In dark times it’s too easy to get stuck in a black hole (aka Media Instagram), or let conversations about our current reality usurp every social interaction. The truth is, we need balance. We have to remember to laugh – especially in times of crisis (remember Viktor Frankl?). The other day I ran into a friend I hadn’t seen in ages and we immediately delved into the state of the world. She divulged that she was 6-ish months into taking anti-depressants and, upon feeling better, wondered if she’d actually been depressed for the last 5 years. We laughed! I told her that I’d just finished a Pilates video focusing on shoulders (VB Method, if you’re curious/want your ass handed to you) and, during a pushup section, the teacher said, ‘Remember – you’re still depressed.’ I had to stop, mid-push-up, and cackle. Art imitates life!
In moments like these I tend to go two ways: inward or outward.
Inward looks like: reading for hours sprawled on the couch on a Saturday instead of doing something ‘productive.’ Staying in and writing instead of going to a party where I know I’ll have to work hard at conversation among a group of people I don’t know well.
Outward is: reaching out to people I haven’t spoken to in awhile to check in on them. Making plans with close friends and talking about anything except the world’s tragedies. Also – this sounds lame – I get a huge kick out of saying ‘good morning’ to everyone I pass on my morning hike. I used to stay in my hole and ignore everyone, but one day I noticed an old man saying to every single person who passed him, ‘Good morning! Have a wonderful day!’ It brightened my mood in the craziest way and I decided to take a page out of his book. Now I greet everyone I pass. Some people respond, others ignore me or have earbuds in. It’s nuts how tiny moments of human connection can change your day.
What I’m saying is: Whatever your poison (in, out or a bit of both), find ways to surface joy. It will make the time you spend actively resisting the current regime feel even more solid and energetic.
This week, inspired by Miranda July’s latest Substack (and a request for more photos): a newsletter in pictures/captions.
Annie John, written by Jamaica Kincaid, pub. 1985. Another gorgeous novel by one of the best writers out there: a coming of age story about a girl in Antigua (where Kincaid was born) whose burgeoning womanhood corresponds with a loss of connection with her dearest companion and love – her mother. Poignant and heartbreaking in all the right places, Kincaid reminds us what it feels like to be young, and the pain that comes with leaving childhood behind.
Address Unknown, written by Kathrine Kressman Taylor, pub. 1938. Whoa. This teensy book was originally published in a literary magazine under the pen name Kressman Taylor (it was deemed that the subject matter wasn’t fit for a female author). The story, told via a series of letters, took the country by storm and became an international best-seller. The letters are written between best friends and business partners, Max and Martin, both German, the former a German Jew. In 1932, Martin returns to Germany, leaving Max in San Francisco to look after their gallery. What transpires is two years of correspondence during which we watch Martin slowly, then quickly, fall prey to Hitler’s manipulation. He abandons his principles and, soon enough, his friendship with Max. A terrifying and, unfortunately, resonant read at this moment.
Strawberry soda: This happened somewhat by accident. I had a punnet of very sad strawberries, so I roasted them at 350F with a generous splash of Cocchi Vermouth di Torino and a glug of maple syrup until they collapsed. Then I strained the liquid – now infused with gorgeous strawberry juices – and added a splash of apple cider vinegar. One of the best shrubs I’ve ever tasted! I’ve been drinking it on repeat with seltzer — perfect for J*ly 4th BBQs. Serve the roasted strawberries with unsweetened whipped cream for extra-credit.
If you haven’t watched Somebody, Somewhere, drop what you’re doing and get to a TV. Bridget Everett ingeniously merges incredible humor with aching loneliness (in both her character and her real self). Marc Maron tends to bug me, but this podcast episode with Everett is the epitome of vulnerability. People contain multitudes!
Whenever I finish books I’ve purchased but don’t want to keep, I stow them away. When I have enough I take a trip to Bart’s Books in Ojai – an outdoor literary mecca where I’ve purchased too many used books to count. I sell my books in exchange for credit so I can buy more books with abandon! If you’re looking to get rid of books, ask a used bookstore in a town you love if they’ll buy them from you. It’s a great excuse for a road trip.
Inside + Outside: A new podcast from one of my oldest, most brilliant friends, Jessica Murnane. Jess is a horticultural therapist (plus an author and artist) who, each week, talks to a guest about their nature memories (outside) plus something in culture they love (inside). She’s light-hearted, hilarious and an excellent interviewer. Listen to them all! P.S. I’m this week’s guest. :)
Love reading your writing, Emily! (I have also intentionally started a habit of saying good morning to everyone I see on my morning walks with the dog. Mixed results, but it makes me feel connected and human.)
Love reading your writing, Emily! (I have also intentionally started a habit of saying good morning to everyone I see on my morning walks with the dog. Mixed results, but it makes me feel connected and human.)
Gooood morning! There’s a line in that paragraph that somehow reminds me a bit of “Bless the Telephone” by Labi Siffre.