i'm home 🏡
hey stranger,
i feel like i have misbehaved! i haven’t sent out a newsletter in two months. it’s funny how uncomfortable my own expectations can feel, heavy like i got caught in a downpour. but i’m safely inside now! i forgive myself. i’m taking a shower and putting on pj’s and getting toasty by the space heater. that feels better.
i’m back in the states! the golden one, specifically. and it has been looking golden! watching the ginkgo trees change from light green to deep golden-yellow is such a treat during this colder, darker season.
i traveled with my honey from mid-september to mid-october, and i’ve been back home for about a month now. the days have felt long but the month feels short. jake is still traveling, and I miss him. we had a great time together.
i’ve been staying with my parents since i got back, and if you’ve met them, you know that they are special and great. but being at your childhood house can feel a little stuck in time, you know? i’m yearning for a spot of my own, a nest to nestle into and fill with comforting smells, sounds, and people.
1. book: possibility pie by sark
i saw this book at spectator books on piedmont ave (support them they’re great!), and i was immediately drawn to the intuitive, whimsical drawing style. i bought it, and now i’m taking pictures of every other page. so many good quotes and ideas. you can feel her passion and aliveness through her words and pictures, and her creative approach to life really resonates with me. very lynda barry-esque.
2. tv show: chopped
my parents and i don’t totally align in tv taste. they like to watch what they call “murder with an accent” — aka any pbs drama of uk origin. i pretty much only watch stuff on the streaming service dropout these days (a recommendation for lovers of comedy, improv, and cultivating deep parasocial relationships).
BUT we all love chopped. it’s easy to munch on like crunchy popcorn. i enjoy their sub-competitions like “beat bobby flay” and we even found a dating show episode?? crazy. they have a good formula.
3. poem
I have begun,
when I'm weary and can't decide an answer to a bewildering question,
to ask my dead friends for their opinion
and the answer is often immediate and clear.
Should I take the job? Move to the city? Should I try to conceive a child
in my middle age?
They stand in unison shaking their heads and smiling—whatever leads
to joy, they always answer,
to more life and less worry. I look into the vase where Billy's ashes were—
it's green in there, a green vase,
and I ask Billy if I should return the difficult phone call, and he says, yes.
Billy's already gone through the frightening door,
whatever he says I'll do.— Marie Howe
that’s all for now, folks. talk soon. stay warm <3
