It is the horse latitudes of the year. August.
This is the first group of sentences I have written on here since the end of May, the first words I have actually pulled together other than daily Morning Pages, and those cobbled together through a bleary-eyed haze of not-enough-coffee.
Even now it’s late at night, and the air is still heavy with heat and damp. Torpor. Even the katydids cannot muster up the wherewithal to call for a mate.
A quick survey of journals and blog posts from the past five Augusts confirms it: August is the month of hurry…
Run, don’t walk, to grab the inaugural issue of palate PALETTE from the queen herself, Krystal Mack.
This gorgeous magazine defies my words. Krystal has put together interviews, writers, stories, pictures, and art from Black people in food in Baltimore.
It’s ground-breaking and breath-taking and you need to go get yourself some.
Available at the link above (and I am not an affiliate — there are zero dollars flowing to me) or local to Baltimore at Greedy Reads in Remington or Fells Point.
#TellBlackStories #Baltimore #Food #Art
I happened across Lorrie Moore’s essay while reading another book about writing (The Forest for the Trees: An Editor’s Advice to Writers by Betsy Lerner). “How to become a writer” starts with the following depressing advice: “First, try to be something else. Anything else.”
I tried that. I became a teacher for 16 years, and I loved it.
During that time I was also a parent. Parenting is the worst job — unrelenting, unrewarding, and unsatisfying. If it sounds like I am complaining or that I do not love my child, neither of those are true. …
Still in testing mode, but I just posted this over on my Instagram page, and I have to post it here, too.
Because it’s fucking amazing, and I want all of you to have something fucking amazing in your life right now. We all deserve it. We all need it.
The wind is blowing. And as in books and movies, the weather is never just weather.
I think you’ll like this cake adventure.
Use chopped chocolate and a good quality olive oil for your olive oil chocolate chip bundt cake, and I promise you that you’ll notice.
There is no story to tell here. Simply testing the waters for a long-overdue migration from tech-heavy WordPress to something that feels a little more civilized.
This is the first post of what might be many. Or what might be the last.
Regardless of how things turn out, please accept this glorious picture of a field in western Maryland on a sunny day last week. There is no filter applied — no editing or touch-ups or anything. Just wide open, expansive space.
Have a lovely day.