February Newsletter

NO. 31 | February 2024

Friends,

Join me for an extended metaphor. You are standing on the edge of a cliff. In front of you is a ravine. It is so deep, and so wide, that it could realistically be called a canyon instead. But, it is not so wide that the other side feels distant. You can clearly see what’s going on over there, even if it’s out of reach.

You like your side of the ravine. In fact, there is nothing to complain about—the rocks and trees and shrubs are all nice. You get a few hours of bright sunshine each day. The view is good, too. But, you know that one day, you’ll need to cross the ravine and check out the other side.

You are confident you will be able to do this. Crossing the ravine is just a matter of preparing. So you start to work. You do squats with increasingly large stones. You sleep under the stars and dream about flying. You meditate and visualize the first step onto new terrain. You practice your run-up, train your twitch muscles, and build to a higher top speed.

Then, after a few years, you’re ready. You know that you can run, jump, and land on the other side. You set a date. You’ll enjoy your side for six more days, four more days, two more days, one more day. You’ve grown antsy. You are confident. Today is the day.

So, you start back, take the first step, reach your top speed, plant one foot right on the edge of the earth, and leap. Now, freeze frame.

You are in the air. Below you is gravity’s promised drop, deep into the ravine. Ahead of you is the other side. Behind you doesn’t matter so much anymore. Now, play the scene in slow motion.

You are moving through the air like it’s made of jell-o. You have a lot of time to think up there, dangling. You start to consider all that may happen in this very important time in your life.

For one, you start to hope there’s a net beneath you. Or rather, that you crafted a good enough net to catch you if you don’t make it to the other side. You didn’t consider the net much before you jumped. This is likely because you had so much faith that you would make it. You consider that faith itself is part of the net. That by believing so strongly in the jump, you are less likely to fall.

With some time up there, you realize the net is stronger than you thought, and that’s a relief. The net is bolstered by the practice, and the hard work. If you land in it, there’s nothing to stop you from climbing back up your side of the cliff, and training all over again. The net is reinforced by joy. Landing in it doesn’t erase the rush of taking the leap and winging through the air by the power of your own legs.

With renewed comfort that you will, at least, survive the jump, you, still careening in slow motion across this gap, begin to think about the other side. What's even over there? What do you hope is over there?

One thing is still true—it’s important to get there. You don’t doubt that. But you begin to wonder why it’s important. What does the realization of this dream really look like? Why is it a dream in the first place? Is it about attention? If you make it to the other side, maybe the newspaper will do a write-up on you, and your loved ones will read it and be proud of you, and it will nourish their belief in you. Maybe people you don’t know will read it, too, and spend their day grateful that strangers do cool things.

Is it about opportunity? From your old side of the ravine, you could see a lot of new things. You want to swim in the bustling, clear creak that sparkles in the sunshine and runs down the center of the land. You want bigger rocks for bigger gains. You want higher trees to climb, so you can look further in every direction.

You know how you dream it will feel to land gently onto new dirt. You are also okay with crashing into it, barrel-rolling and picking grit out of your teeth. But you are still in the air. You will probably be there for awhile. The slow motion is really slow.

The jury is still out on your destination, anyway. Try to keep it together up there. Don’t spend too much time looking down. Don’t spend too much time looking ahead. Maybe close your eyes for a bit. Maybe reinforce the net. We’ll all be thinking about you, hoping for the best.

Swim Along With Me: Quilt Pullover

This month, you’ll float down a frozen river with me while we sew this pullover from an old quilt!

I have spent most of this month in my sketchbook which has been ideal!! Won’t say too much about what I’ve been working on, but I am feeling great about illustration these days. My book club also did a secret santa book exchange which was a brilliant success (sorry at book club members who have been cropped out by Substack!!).

I have fallen quickly and obsessively in love with the work of Sarah Conti this month. She’s a ceramic sculptor making gorgeous (and sometimes utilitarian) pieces featuring birds and other animals. She’s inspiring me big time, and making me want to open up my clay tub. I hope to one day score one of her out of this world candlesticks.

✷ I will be making custard donuts any day now.
✷ I haven’t embroidered in a long time, but this garment work is making me want to dive in again.
✷ Emilio and I are contemplating whether we want to try and grow a garden this year despite a lot of planned travel and the fact that we live in a rental. But, if we do, I’m certainly snagging some Floret original zinnia seeds.
✷ The book club just finished What I Loved by Siri Hustvedt which had unanimous approval from all our members (which has maybe never happened?).
✷ I just finished watching Dave. It’s a very funny and ridiculous show worth making you laugh through a gloomy winter’s day.