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the people’s almanac
november 2024
tuesday november 19
today is cold. when i woke this morning, it was 34 degrees. we’re expecting a big storm tonight, a bomb cyclone. there’s lots of prep that needs to happen before then. i’m preparing myself internally too, to be in this room for the next few days. there’s supposed to be 4 inches of rainfall just tomorrow. i know i’ll feel the wind through my door.
the rain here feels difficult for me. it makes everything more effortful. it’s lonely, everyone stays hiding in their corners. it feels hard on my body, too. the barn is wet, and the animals are antsy. me too. yesterday, i told jiordi that the rain feels unforgiving in the winter. i’m preparing to feel the cold wind whipping my ears each time i step outside.
i can’t let go of this feeling in my stomach. maybe it’s just the anticipation.
i will do what i need to get ready.
wednesday november 20
today the storm’s been a portal. it took time adjusting but by evening i really settled in.
i am grateful for the way that it both fills and empties - this place is so quiet right now, and so loud. i can feel the pressure of the wind against my windows. it really is howling. the trees creak every time a gust comes by. i wonder how the wind feels to them. familiar, i’m sure. this all feels very new to me.
i need to slow down. that’s what today’s been for me. i’ve been anticipating the transition back to the city, trying to plan for things i can’t plan yet, and trying to anticipate schedules that aren’t yet clear. this keeps happening lately. i’ve yet to make peace with the unpredictability of the weather. though when it comes, i always learn how to receive it. life lately keeps pushing me up against experiences that turn into lessons on surrender. on quieting enough to tend to the space in my body. instead of rushing to move it’s actually starting to feel much more important to make sure i’m closing my time here in a way that feels right and attentive. a couple days ago on a sheep walk with Jiordi i mentioned how much i wish i could take Hector with me. a puppy would do me good back in the bay. Jiordi said something about how i’m trying to take this place with me when i need to let it be here, and just come back. i think maybe i just want a bit of both. i like it when the dirt stays under my nails.
i’ve been here for almost three consecutive weeks (no grocery runs, nothing). i know that the next time i leave & return i’ll really feel it. it’s been so hard to leave this place in the past. it really attaches to me. i know it will take some effort and intention, if i’m really wanting to go. i’m going to need to seal my edges a bit and say my prayers.
thursday november 21
i spoke with Flore on the phone yesterday about a project they are working on right now exploring what they’re calling “soft pleasure.” i was really grateful to hear them speak to their art practice as devotional. they said they feel the need to follow projects to completion and take time to make their art even if they don’t think anyone will every witness it. they said that every moment they spend working on their art, they believe ripples out into the fabric of the universe in such a way that it makes it that much easier for other black/brown/queer people to devote themselves to their art with the same intention. like their commitment is to the art itself and equally to the generation of that momentum which will continue more art-making and devotional practice.
i think i’ve grown so used to muscle-ing my way through my projects and commitments, even when they start in earnest. high-intensity fiery passion, and when that burns out, high-intensity harsh discipline to stay on the right track. i don’t know, it’s exhausting. i much prefer the pace of devotion. it’s sustainable. it’s quotidian.
i want to understand. what is that soft, steady, certain love that propels me through my life and my practice? how can i move from that place instead of a carceral one? how can i stay in that place which keeps me connected to my loving agency? to bring my heart into all that i do? i could use some more of that. yes, i’d like to move out of my own way.