superstitious--keep writing number 162

When I was 23, I was vegan and traveled in the UK for a month. It was 2001, before 9/11. Our flights were cheap but we traveled without pocket computers. We carried a small book of vegan-friendly restaurants and groceries.  I don't remember how we found places to stay. In Aberdeen, we had a room that felt like a suite in a palace. We stayed in a cramped hostel in Ireland. In Belfast,  we stayed at the home of a woman who had us sleep in separate rooms because of our perceived genders. She was perplexed almost to anger that we would not eat the eggs she gathered from the chickens that morning. But she nearly broke when my partner stirred his tea with a knife.

It's bad luck, she said.

He was untroubled by the revelation that cutlery choices could affect your future. 

I never thought of myself as particularly superstitious but I grew up catholic and my grandparents are Siciallian so, everything is relative I guess. The pageantry of my youth turned me off to organized religion but not to carrying stones or coins for luck.  I've never made declarations about the existence of ghosts but I am not going to forsake the idea that energy takes many forms and may linger.

What do I know?

I may have seemed very certain of my beliefs as a 23 year old refusing a very local chicken egg.

Isn't that what your 20s are for? Being certain and then having all your beliefs destroyed or questioned so you can rebuild in your 40's as somebody who is certain because of evidence and experience. And more aware of what they don't know.

I wanted to hear your superstitions. I wanted to know what you consider a superstition. 

This was not the original idea for October's card. 

In September, at the start of two months of an ambitious schedule, I  gave a talk from my studio for the SFCB From the Bench Series. The night before, I realized it would be cozier from my camper office. My studio was a mess. 

I usually have plenty of ideas for Keep Writing postcards, but occasionally I get stuck or ideas feel stale or I am thinking of classes I want to teach or talks I am about to give and can't focus on what I need to design a good card. The day of the talk, I was in the middle of designing a few Keep Writing postcards..

I thought it would be a good idea to plan the postcard live, during the call.

It was not.

It was fun, but there was not enough time to execute brainstorming, weeding out false hopes, and sifting a nugget of truth from the mud of ideas.  I don't remember the idea we were working with ( you can watch it unfold here).  I kept the scraps of our notes and when I could not make the collective idea work, I returned to our original list of subjects and was drawn to superstitions. And so it went.

 As a bonus,  I got to carve a two color evil eye.

While writing this, I cleaned out the cup holders of my truck and discovered a glass evil eye charm from a yard sale find from this summer.

I often think my ideas are like lightning but they are the slow burn of repetitive suggestions.

For the record, I believe in moving energy--setting intentions, carrying stones and smells and spells for protection and encouragement. I find churches overwhelming, even when they are so gaudy I want to be angry.  And I try to pay attention to the solstice, watch the sun rise and set if I can. 

I stir my tea with whatever is handy.

The Cost of American Convenience

For Keep Writing number 161, Antero Garcia and Alix Dick brought an idea to me. A researcher at Stanford University (and longtime subscriber to the Keep Writing project) and a filmmaker, they collaborated on text for this card, and sent their ideas to me. The invoice idea was all theirs. Their project combines historic letterpress aesthetic and important modern questions. The cost of living in America, especially as an immigrant, is a foil to the Land of the Free narrative.

I loved their idea, and I especially love new ideas for Keep Writing. It is refreshing to have someone else offer the question. I love this format for collecting research and hope to collaborate with other researchers in the future.

Subscribers: send in your cards!

Everyone! Subscribe to their newsletter to read more about their findings! And they are mailing postcards for free to anyone who might be interested in participating in this research!

keep writing 157--with tilted house review

Invariably, whenever I taught an introduction to letterpress class, one person was interested in printing a chapbook of their poetry with entirely handset type. I suggest 1-2 lines to start with and that usually reigns in over-ambitious projects. 

Also luckily, some people preserve against my conservative advice. And I am always glad they do.

I can't remember exactly what Cameron's idea was when he came to me at Baskerville studios in New Orleans years ago. He wanted to learn to use his tabletop press to share poetry in some form. Now he is about to release the fifth volume of  a handbound poetry and art journal complete with a letterpress printed cover.  Each edition is beautiful, committed to handmade touches and quality content.  

A few months ago I contacted Cameron to offer my printing services, as my press is speedy and built to go. I thought I could offer to print the cover for them, maybe making one step easier for them. Why do we even bother with plans and expectations anymore? Of course every step involved some problem solving as my press was fussy about longer sheets of paper, full page images and some days, everything.  Additionally, I thought it would be easier to combine this cover design with the Keep Writing postcard for May.  That always seems like a good idea until I realize it means more factors in my design.  I am still recovering from a head injury from last summer so this kind of problem solving logistics is both great exercise and a literal headache.  

testing the covers before shipment to make sure everything is in place

When I finally wrapped the 165 covers to ship to Cameron and the Tilted House group, I was relieved and excited. I never really committed to being a custom printer because I find it so stressful. But I love the results. I am so honored to be trusted with this project.

When we talked about content, themes of cups, a table, cooking, braided hair were all mentioned. Never a literal illustrator, I was reminded of something a friend once explained to me, the meaning of the portuguese word saudade. With no direct English translation, she offered the idea of cups overflowing with happiness and sadness, a longing for something gone. Not quite nostalgic. The Portuguese writer Manuel de Melo described it as

"a pleasure you suffer, an ailment you enjoy."

I don't often draw objects, but this stack of teacups was fun as I incorporated the bits the Tilted House crew offered, even learning to draw a hair braid to wrap around one cup. (side note: I've been trying lately to learn the things I've been avoiding.  Like, how to use shortcuts in Adobe Illustrator. And how to hem pants. I'm so extra appreciative of my brain lately.)

Collaborations through the mail in printing are always more cumbersome than I expect--shipping paper is expensive, I am a slow printer and an even slower designer. As I mentioned, literal illustration is not my strength. Restrictions often force creative solutions, like how to incorporate more color. I am honored to have done this. They are hand binding the copies now--order yours at tiltedhouse.org or, if you are in New Orleans, attend the release party June 10th.

bonus: here is a great article about the meaning of saudade. 

keep writing number 157 sent may 2022

a finish line, a threshhold

Two big things happened this month

Adam, my partner, the other half of @circles_and_lines_collage, father, painter and enthusiastic runner, finished the Boston Marathon in just over 4 and a half hours.  He raised over $8,000 for the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute and he still likes running.  I'm proud of him. Training for a marathon never seems like a fun thing to me but he found time and stayed committed and crossed the finish line almost smiling. His fundraising wraps up May 18th so there is still time to donate if you are able to help him reach the $10,000 mark. Or join us on World Collage Day to donate and celebrate.

I also am fully-self-employed again.  By choice.

Keep Writing subscribers may remember many questions about jobs and identity.  My brief time with a full-time job was complicated, of course. I had health insurance for 15 months without interruption--nearly unheard of in my adult life, a great privilege that only solidified the absurdity of healthcare being tied to employment. I had my teeth cleaned by the same dentist twice.  I paid down some debt.  I met people and made friends at time when there were still mask mandates and limits on indoor gatherings.   But I was also injured at work.   

Concussion recovery is slow but continues. 

I am very very lucky to have support from a great physical therapist, doctor and my family and friends. I have been taking mini-trips to spend time in the quiet forest and to reset my brain and habits.  One day I will have a million thoughts on daily practices that balance a productive and restful day but I am still figuring that out.  Too much computer time or driving or math can really wear me out, and cause debilitating headaches. But I have a lot of tools for coping and lessening the effects--having more control around my employment is a big one!  I am already scheming about classes, a recorded class, projects and markets. A friend referred to this as "sunny day planning"—  the optimism of what you can accomplish when you feel great versus the reality check of a rainy day, or in my case, a symptom-heavy day. Being self-employed means more freedom in making my schedule, more time for recovery, but also there are some jobs I can't do right now, possibly ever.

One of the hardest symptoms for me is a difficulty in communication. When I am tired my sentences get shorter but not necessarily more accurate, as if I am too tired for the right words. It means I can sound dismissive, grouchy, and it may be hard to understand what I am trying to say (and I don't have the patience to explain! Like being hangry!) But I have a few in-person events coming up. I am hoping that all I have learned about pacing and breaks will make for a fun day selling things zines and collage to old and new friends. 

keep writing number 156--an actual marathon

NOT A SPRINT// When Adam said he might run the Boston Marathon one day, I encouraged him because it excited him.  He rarely does things that aren't for his kid or me or his friends or work.  And he wasn't sure he could do it--especially raising enough money to be part of the Dana-Farber team. But when someone I love says they don't think they can do it, I am happy to encourage them past their self-doubt. He was already running and ran a marathon years ago. His sister and I could handle fundraising. Six months later Adam ran 26.1 miles and raised over $8,000 for cancer patient care and research for the Dana-Farber Institute in Boston. His sister, parents and son were able to cheer him on in person. I stayed home (post-concussion symptoms have made flying unappealing)  but texted him throughout the race to encourage him.  And I made these postcards.

This month's postcard honors the big plans. I was telling a friend the other day that I realize I am impulsive (or decisive depending on how you look at it) but the past nine months have made me slow down and slow down and reassess until I accept I have to take small steps towards a clear goal. On a good day, everything feels possible but I am still working on the needed equilibrium to not feel defeated on hard days. This card is for small steps and big plans. For one day at a time and the actual marathon you might be training for.

You can still donate to Adam’s fundraising through May 14!

How Can I Help?

I feel like my job as a teacher is to encourage, support, shows ways to organize, make space for experimentation. Or maybe just what I think I am good at. So when my partner told me he wanted to run the Boston Marathon as part of the Dana-Farber Marathon Challenge, I knew what I could do to help.

There is this idea around support that if someone is struggling, with grief or anxiety or chronic illness, that offering specific help is easier to accept than a general “let me know if you need anything.” As someone who turns down help but who often needs it, I think about this a lot and have been trying to implement this as a habit. I think it is a great practice in boundaries and support. I can offer what I can actually do for someone, maybe something specific to their needs. They can accept or not. It gives a person who is under mental, emotional or physical strain the opportunity for aid without having to determine their needs. It takes the pressure off of them to respond or reply. Someone who is grieving may not feel hungry but may accept an offer of food, realizing they need to eat. I love it also because I can’t do all the things I used to, but I can offer what is within my capacity.

When Adam was accepted onto the team, he knew that his training would get a bit harder. And he knew he needed to start fundraising and telling people what he is doing. He is realizing a dream of running in the oldest continuous marathon in the world and he is raising money for cancer research in honor of his sister,and mother, patients at Dana Farber. I know nothing about running beyond the alleged “runner’s high” and that I have never experienced that. I don’t care for running. I can’t help with advice about running shoes or what to eat or when to run up hills or when to take a day off. He has a trainer for that. But I can write. And I’m handy with a spreadsheet and a calendar.

So I’m helping with his social media. He is doing fine without me so maybe he is humoring me by letting me help but here I am. Because I can. And because he is working full time while training. Which means some mornings he gets up at 4, runs for an hour, then gets ready for a 12 hour shift. On his "off days,” he runs long distances and parents his 10 year old. I don’t know how you are supposed to train for something when you are tired. I know that sometimes he wakes at 4 am and says he won’t run today, that there is ice on the streets and he didn’t sleep well. And often, he runs anyway. We are all so tired. There is always something. Always another thing we have to take care of, something we want to do. I’m all for paring down responsibilities and obligations to more of what matters. I’m all for rest and breaks because everything is so much. And I’m also all for supporting the people we love in the ways that we can. Somewhere between burnout and giving up, we go on.

oh yeah, if you want to donate you can go right to Adam’s fundraising page and help him reach his goal.

keep writing #151--the 100 t-shirt project

One of my favorite stories to tell is how I became friends with Abram*. I had only been in New Orleans for a few months. I was riding my bicycle to the downtown library when I was hit by a car at a stupid intersection. I was brought to the hospital by a stranger, who may have been the person who hit me, and dropped at the emergency room. Before cell phones, the hospital called my house and left a message for my roommate and visiting friend. I can’t remember why, but my friend Jamie had also called, maybe to meet for coffee or say hello. But word of my accident was passed along to him and, realizing he was the only person we knew with a car, Jamie and his best friend Abram arrived at the hospital as I was being released. I had a broken collarbone, staples in my head, and a fractured ankle. When we arrived at my house, Jamie carried a bag full of leafy greens and vitamins and Abram asked me if I wanted help walking. I stubbornly limped with my crutch to the door. After several painful minutes, Abram told me I was doing a great job but that was enough for now. He carried me up the stairs to my apartment.

Abram gave me a copy of his second book with his phone number written inside. We didn’t hang out often, but he always had encouraging words for my projects and impulsive choices. When I texted him last month to ask if I could use his second book as a prompt for Keep Writing, he was flattered and asked for a few copies. He was one of the first people to sign up for Keep Writing, back when it was a mailing list on a clipboard at the New Orleans Book Fair. The initial price was I was $1 for 2 months because I wasn’t even sure if it was an idea that would work.

I’ve appreciated Abram’s ability to talk to strangers, be forward with his opinions and to ask others good questions. He has encouraged others to write their stories, through the Neighborhood story Project and as a writing teacher at the University of New Orleans.

I do keep a running list of ideas for Keep Writing, and still sometimes when I sit down to design the card, nothing fits. This month, while pacing my house trying to make another idea work, I thought about something I had said in a text to a stranger. I was trying to sort out the shipment of something I had ordered and after having to clarify details repeatedly, I apologized and told them that I had a head injury and that I easily get confused. It is so helpful for me to preface conversations that way but also I feel some shame— like I am making things too personal and awkward. I thought about the ways we don’t say what is really happening, especially now as we deal with the mental health effects of living through a pandemic and grief and depression. There are many obstacles to clear communication. Maybe we think or process in a different way, or we don’t speak the same language or because we are grieving or tired. I want to approach conversation and interactions with more compassion.

So I borrowed Abram’s idea of writing our background thoughts on a shirt. What do you want people to know when they are speaking to you? What are you thinking about as you navigate the world? What could you share that might make communication easier? What do I need to understand as we speak?

Keep Writing 151 went in the mail November 21 2021. Im looking forward to your responses which will be shared on tumblr!

*It is also possible I met Jamie or Abram when they were selling their books by driving city to city and talking to strangers. I was in Boston then, visiting before heading to New Orleans. What long lives we live.

celebrating abundance

ABUNDANCE//biking to my studio the past few weeks, I looked for ripe persimmon trees in public places. I would occasionally pass trees full of ripe fruit behind tall fences and lament the wasted fruit. After the boom of home gardens I watched many vegetables spoil on the vine. (@sarahmirk wrote a great lil zine about their personal rules for gleaning--not taking from people's gardens but fruit trees along the sidewalks, when fruit is falling from the tree--a sign no one is harvesting)

And then one day, in front of one of those fenced off overloaded trees was a 5 gallon bucket of persimmons. How many is too many? I brought home a bag full, sliced and dried them and now have sunny orange-sweet slices all winter.

With plenty left over to bake something for the Free Fridges.

Thanksgiving is complicated to celebrate. Historically it glorifies the fiction of the settler-in-need, nevermind the gory facts of colonialism and its legacy. Many of us are here because our ancestors were opportunistic, claimed land that wasn't up for claiming, bullied ahead with violence and unearned confidence and never really backed down.

I don't want to celebrate that.

I am grateful for a moment to be thankful of the abundance of the year, for the people who have offered support, who have shared what they have, even when it was little, preparing us all for the winter. I'm going to eat pumpkin pie for breakfast with my partner & stepkid because it is our favorite, and miss my friends in New Orleans, who will be dressed up and celebrating with oysters and pies and taking care of each other.

want to support your neighbors? @maaportland is raising money for tents and sleeping bags for houseless folks and the United Houma Nation in South Louisiana is still recovering from Hurricane Ida--you can donate here