Betterish

just been sitting here not sleeping (mainly on high alert for my babe; sick season + snot + navigating a cold for the first time is *hard* when you’re a tiny human). but also reeling on how the world feels unsettling right now (nothing new really, but here we still are). it’s so dang easy to feel overwhelmed and powerless these days. 

but yesterday, I finally skimmed through last weekend’s NYT and found something that actually comforted me, and I’m reeling on that too. it struck me so deeply that I ripped it out and pinned it on our kitchen wall. for my fellow creatives (and I know a lot of you here are), I think this ^ might comfort you too.

the TLDR: it’s a letter about the power of art during times of conflict. the letter tells the story of a Parisian department store worker (Raoul Minot) under N**i occupation in the 1940s. with a hidden kodak brownie camera, he risked his life to photograph the truth of life under occupation. he and his wife secretly developed the film, and the photos eventually circulated through the French Resistance—though no one knew who took them for decades.

the letter reminds us that art, no matter how small or private, is a powerful tool for reclaiming identity, resisting oppression, and preserving truth. so don’t ever think what you’re creating is “just fluff” (like I sometimes do) or won’t matter. creative acts—big or small—have the power to inspire, heal, and push humanity toward justice. and we need this energy, these acts of creation, this kind of work—so hugely—right now.

I’ll also note the letter is written from the perspective of an ~earthling~ to an ~intergalactic friend~ ending with, “may every kite flown, soup seasoned, and quilt sewn move us toward a kinder, freer world.” which led me to so much yes-yess’ing: that indeed everyday acts of creation + care = can, and will, contribute to building a betterish world. let’s hold onto that and keep making, mending, and crafting in compassion, k?

💌

the sky is falling…

jkjk but our mural is only up until the end of the year (aka just a few more days!), so:
a.) go check it out if you happen to be in Denver
b.) simply look up at the sky, snap a pic, and share it with someone along with a message like: “I’m glad we’re under the same sky.”

this project has always held so many layers, but one of its biggest themes is rooted in how different perspectives can still connect us as a whole. that though we are all under the same sky, it looks/feels different when viewed from eyes that are not your own. that what you notice when looking up is unlike what others might notice. yet, this very same sky is a vastness we all live, breath and meander beneath each day. and that this—the universal act of looking up and watching the clouds shape-shift as we, too, shape-shift—is what grounds us in our shared humanity and interconnectedness.

as I reflect on the past three years of co-creating this mural with and connecting with community through this experience, I’m holding the memories and moments close in my heart. more to come on that later…

for now, I’m really feeling the end-of-the-year weirdness—caught between anticlimactic transitions and anticipation for what’s next. so I’m taking note from a line in a poem shared with me this year, one that reminds me of this project:

“Fill your calendar with nothing but sky...” -joy sullivan

may you (and I) leave time and space for openness while embracing the vastness of what has been, what is, and what’s yet to come…

☁️🌤️☁️🌤️☁️🌤️☁️🌤️☁️🌤️☁️🌤️☁️🌤️☁️☀️☁️

I’m about to complete another spin around the sun, and I guess you could say I’ve been doing a lil life reviewing—reflecting in the teeny-tiny pockets of time the universe gifts me these days. combing through old jots, dots, and notes. photos too. came across this gem from one of my favorite museums circa March 2016…

the beginning of this year already feels like another lifetime; this moment feels like a whole other world.

anywho, excited to share more regular reflections on my substack v v soon. last year, I soft-launched it on my birthday with a post titled ‘37 Things I Learned Before Turning 38,’ which means, yes—‘38 Things I Learned Before Turning 39’ is on its way. sign up for ✨sacred crumbs✨ (linkity link link in bio) cause I’ve got some solid stuff up my sleeve—straight from my heart space, coming through my fingertips, and onto the screen for your eyeballs to read, minds to feed. 

^ words read: “call them not your children, call them your builders” -Talmud, beneath “Stargate” by Steve Heller, built from recycled car parts 🌀