next time is next time, now is now
a catalogue of kindness, recent creative projects, and my love for green movies
this week they felled a second of the huge trees that stand around my parent’s farmhouse. the first one to go, a scotch pine, fell in a windstorm when i was in high school. i was really hoping nothing else about my home would change after i left, but both my childhood dogs died this summer, and my parents are finally building on the new addition they’ve planned for so many years, which balances out to just feeling sort of okay. i don’t know why, but fallen trees have always made me particularly sad; when i was young i used to cry when we trekked out into the forest for a christmas tree and picked the perfect one, just to cut it down.
it gets dark early and cold fast now, and immediately i curl in on myself, spending more time than usual in my room where there’s plenty of sunshine and warmth through the day. i spent a lot of last winter berating myself for laziness, but looking back i wasn’t failing some benchmark of winter productivity, i was just cold and sad. i wish i’d been kinder to myself then, but i have this winter and maybe the next couple to practice. why not focus on being loving now instead of once i get back to the west coast or once the sun starts setting later? bullshit. start being kind now, even if it’s a slow start.
speaking of kindness, the young black pharmacist who asked if i was a model a month ago leans over to read off the order her coworker is printing. nobles? she confirms, explaining, i want to remember your name when i see you on billboards in times square. i’m a little flustered, pleased that she remembers me even though i laughed her off last time. and for my birthday winona makes me tiramisu from scratch (!!), and my sister gives me a tiny wooden temple to assemble, remembering that years ago i used to put together the intricate lego sets my brothers received as gifts. i feel the startled joy of being known and remembered and loved, and use my lunch break to glue the delicate peaks of the roof tiers together while a video essay rumbles on about cold fusion and disgraced scientists.
with the extra time indoors, i carve linocut prints, animate a video, crochet a scarf, a hood, and a shirt with a pattern so intricate that i unraveled it to fix errors god only knows how many times. mittens are next on the list—my hands are always so cold—and there’s a growing list of tattoos i need to design for friends, but i haven’t gotten to those yet. i buy a tiny lavender sketchbook that fits perfectly into the pocket of my coat, and draw as many people on the train as i can, leaving little notes to help me remember them by. today i’m finishing a christmas gift: a painting of my father and his dead brother when they were very, very young. my grandfather is holding them close, smiling in the north carolina sunshine.
i watch perfect days, which is exactly the sort of slow, green movie i love most in the world, and spend the next few days in existential barbie mode, trying to decide for the hundredth time this year if i should disconnect myself from the internet entirely and move to a small village to become an old woman in peace. i considered writing a whole substack just about this film, but i’d honestly rather you all just watch it and then we can sit and think quietly about it together for a while. or, if you don’t like slow-paced movies, go wander through the movie’s website for a bit—it’s like an art installation. i made a playlist for you too.
some other fun trinkets:
⁕ i made a pinterest board for getting older, since that seemed more logical than tweaking about it
⁕ book rec: god of the woods by liz moore is my favorite novel of the year !! (i didn’t read that many but still)
⁕ lastly not to be sentimental n shii but be extra sweet to urself over the holidays!! ik they can be weird but i hope they are filled with love in one way or another <3