Motion and the Ocean

Some Thoughts on Movement + A Summer Book

What to do with a million buzzing thoughts? Why, attempt to gather them into a coherent newsletter, of course. Below, a few things on my mind as of late; a book I adored; and a snack I want to call SKnickers but won’t.

Seeking Momentum

Being injured while also being a person who finds joy, solace and mental clarity via movement is not ideal. The feeling of moving through air, quickly, up a peak, down a sun-parched sidewalk, across a dusty trail: I miss it. And so I’ve had to go about creating different types of momentum outside of the physical realm. I’ve found it by building space and quiet around my mornings, substituting the trail for the couch with the front door wide open to the birds; attacking the city’s cultural calendar, Supermarket Sweep-style; mini road trips with friends; time spent in pools; and an inordinate amount of ab and upper body exercise. It’s been an excellent lesson in acceptance and openness. I wouldn’t say I’m changed, but I’m starting to feel fulfilled again. This is your cue to think broader when your world shrinks.

Making Your City Work for You

Last month, for the first time ever, I grew nostalgic for Chicago summers: art and music festivals almost every weekend, sweaty bodies mobbed together, drinking up sunlight and the ability to – finally! – commune outside. LA, wonderful in many ways, is disparate. It’s not that fun things aren’t happening, it’s that you have to work your ass off to find them. Once you do, though, you feel so much more a part of things. Recent activities have included: First Free Fridays at Norton Simon (stunning, packed, perfect friend date); comedy at the Ice House (laughter = ab work!); LA Dance Project at the Ojai Music Festival (dancing, great; music, meh; woman sitting next to me who’d just that day made 6M from a 2008 job at SpaceX, the real highlight); Sparks v. Liberty (Knicks-level excitement at the buzzer). Up next: Talib at the Blue Note, a candle-making workshop (!), Yoko Ono at RedCat (not Yoko herself, but her performance art, recreated). If you’re feeling stuck/bored in your city, or are yearning for a city in your past, look up and out.

Keep Doing the Work

When I learned that David Hockney had died, I wept, shocking myself and then realizing it all made sense. You might remember that my grandma introduced me to Hockney at age 13 on a trip to London, opening up my eyes to art and queer culture. I’ve seen too many shows of his to count over the years, not just because he was brilliant, but because he continued to paint until the day he died. Artists who absolutely must create art – or else! – are so inspiring. In this vein, I was similarly tickled after seeing Jay Leno perform standup the other week. Truthfully, I hadn’t been excited to see the guy (we were a Letterman family). But my judgment went out the window after watching him kill for 20+ minutes straight. Joke on joke on joke, both showing his age (phone jokes, cute!) but also a canniness and wisdom about the present. I left feeling so inspired that this dude, undoubtedly rolling in money with no need to work for the rest of his life, absolutely *must* perform. He must create art. He must!

Read

The Fortnight in September by R.C. Sherriff, pub. 1931
Buy: Bookshop.org or Thriftbooks.com

You’d think reading a hundred-year-old book would be somewhat of an alienating experience. Turns out customs change, technology shifts, but people are people. And summer vacation – whether on Bognor, the seaside town where the Stevens family has been holidaying for over a decade, or elsewhere – delivers a timewarp and wistfulness that’s as fresh today as it was in 1931.

In Bognor, Mr. and Mrs. Stevens and their three children, Mary, Dick and Ernie, always stay at Seaview, a cottage that’s become more ramshackle over the years – yet no one has the heart to tell the landlady. In pure British fashion, they put up with baggy mattresses, peeling paint, missing knobs. Their comfort at Seaview, dilapidated though it might be, wins out over the fancier hotels that have popped up along the coast. And, really, those things don’t matter, because to the Stevenses, Bognor represents freedom, delight and sunshine, uncomplicated and unburdened.

This book is sly, for yes – on its face, it’s a simple story of a family on their annual beach vacation. But it has moments of bleakness and depth that catch you by surprise. We spend the bulk of our time as the Stevenses do: together with the bunch. Sherriff does, however, allow us glimpses into each family member individually, adding richness and context to characters who work hard to keep their thoughts and emotions at bay. We discover that Mr. Stevens yearns to convene at the local pub with a crew of fellow travelers and a barmaid who makes him blush. Mary, 20, feels she’s aging out of some of the family’s togetherness, and ventures out with a friend for the first time in the history of the Bognor tradition, meeting a man who takes her heart. Dick – 17 and working an office job his father worked hard to get him – is secretly miserable, hatching an escape plan while he walks solo by the sea. And Mrs. Stevens, ever prim, turns out to fear the ocean with ferocity – something she doesn’t ever share with anyone.

Sherriff does a bangup job of bringing you into the family’s routines, expectations and moments of bliss, so you, too, feel the relief of being on vacation, and slight disappointment when it all comes to an end. A perfect summer read.

Eat

This is a quickie bite I threw together after we spontaneously had a couple people over for the Knicks game and I wanted to have something sweet to serve after dinner. It couldn’t be easier and, while it’s not revolutionary (it’s a lower-lift version of this cookie), does deliver more than meets the eye.

To make one: Tear a medjool date down the middle and remove the pit. Put the date in a silicone mold or muffin paper. Tuck in some black sesame paste (maybe 1 teaspoon’s worth?), a few salted peanuts and drizzle with dark chocolate and sea salt. Freeze for 5 mins and enjoy!