Making Waves
Rainbow Earrings, Political Posters, Rooms by the Sea, Toni Morrison, My Garden Helper, and Marcel the Shell with Shoes On
What have we been making?
Anna
This month I’ve colored more of the upcoming graphic novel Evil Eye - the writer and artist Özge Samanci is about halfway done drawing it and let me tell you the plot is thickening! I can’t wait until you can read it.
I also sent another box of earrings to South Street Art Mart in Philadelphia (you can shop online too). Here’s a look at all the different earrings I’ve made so far, and I particularly expanded my rainbow options for pride month!
ALSO… the U.S. continues its never-ending spiral of disappointments, so I wanted to share some of the political posters I’ve had the pleasure (and vexation) of making for a few different organizations over the years.
Rachel
June has been a hectic month. Lots of change and a sense of instability. It’s hard to stay positive, to celebrate, to reach out into darkness and find joy, community, hope.
But amidst everything, I do have some minor good news to share: two new pieces of mine came out this last month. Waves is now out in Thimble Lit Magazine, and my story, Loam, is out in Vassar Review. I also recently received an acceptance from miniskirt magazine for a new story called “Blue Boy,” which should be out in August. I’d like to thank all these magazines for their enthusiasm and support of my work and for giving my writing a home. It means the world to me!!
To commemorate this, I would like to talk about inspiration, memory, and the creation of Waves.
I believe, or at the least hope, my story Waves conveys my deep attachment (possibly obsession) with the ocean. In my earliest memory of the ocean, my sister and I stand ankle-deep in waves of white foam at the edge of the Pacific. The blue reaches beyond the furthest possible stretch of my eyes. I’ve never in my life been able to see so far. We play a game like keep away with the ocean: we run to greet a crashing wave and as the next builds we lift our knees high to escape the undertow and sprint toward land. We laugh and smile until we grow bol and unafraid. We go further into the ocean, and the undertow grows stronger and faster. A big wave comes, and my sister has something like worry in her eyes as it mounts on us. From her face, I realize almost as she does how small I am, and how vast the ocean is. We had almost forgotten. “We have to dive into the wave,” she tells me, grabs my hand, and tries to pull me into the crest, but my feet sink into the sand as the undertow rushes by my ankles. She vanishes. The wave crashes.
After I walk from the ocean crying salt water with sand in my swimsuit bottoms and blood on my back from being dragged along the ocean floor, we spend the rest of the day in the still hotel pool. I watch kids even younger than I tread water in their floaties and listen to the fishies that aren’t there, while I think about that blue, the blue below the surface. The wave crashed and after that, the chaos was so total it might have been peace. I remember wondering which way was up, wondering if I would be washed out to sea, wondering if I would die this way.
I like to think this is where the story started, in this enduring memory of how those waves overtook me. But maybe it started before that. Maybe it started with my grandmother and her stories of the ocean. She says that the ocean is where all life comes from. In this way, maybe my love of the ocean started before I was born. Maybe the weightlessness, the chaos, the blue, reminded me of a world before air when there was nothing.
Many years later this painting by Edward Hopper reminds me of the same feeling and leaves me breathless.
When I first saw it, I was fascinated by the back door, how it is almost a cliff, and by that horizon which I have known since childhood. It is from this image that I begin writing Waves. Researching the painting for this newsletter, I read the following about Hopper’s Rooms by the Sea:
the description that he gave this painting in his notebook […] suggests that the image is more a metaphor of solitude and introspection than a depiction of the actual place. Like Hopper’s most arresting images, this scene seems to be realistic, abstract, and surrealistic all at once.
What Have We Been Enjoying?
Anna
To take my mind off things this month I’ve been enjoying Stranger Things, and I can’t wait to finish the season soon in July. I also watched Severance, and although it’s not a great escape from the dystopia of America, it is an amazing cinematic series that is beautifully filmed and keeps you on the edge of your seat.
ALSO… as I write this I’ve just arrived in the greater Boston area, which happens to be where a certain step-sister of mine lives. Shenanigans will ensue. Stay tuned : )
Rachel
Just yesterday I saw the new movie Marcel the Shell with Shoes On. The film is based on a short YouTube video from over a decade ago about the life of a shell named Marcel. The world was captivated by this video, and by Marcel, and now he has his own feature film. After only one viewing, this movie has become an instant favorite, easily clearing the top ten best movies I have ever seen. Done in a documentary style, Marcel the shell is funny, heartbreaking, tender, and ultimately hopeful. It is beautiful in every way and will without a doubt capture your heart.
I recently finished Tar Baby by Toni Morrison and was again arrested by her complete brilliance and mastery of the craft. Tar Baby has taken place as my new favorite of her oeuvre. It was important to me to read this book with a critical eye toward myself and an awareness of my privilege. Sometimes beautiful, often painful, and always poignant, Tar Baby does not shy away from the important questions of race/racism, gender, colonialism/imperialism, and class. It asks us to grow beyond simple niceties and imagine how we all may be better humans, and how we might live in the world with more tenderness, understanding, and love. And I couldn’t help but listen.
My garden is taking off! I have been using the fresh basil nearly every day, and am so excited to see the tomatoes and strawberries grow (and obviously eat them). Here is a recent photo featuring Noel, my helpful garden elf:
Lastly, I have been listening to music while I write (Zakiya Dalila Harris wrote a great article on making playlists for writing, which you can read HERE), and would like to invite you to check out my July writing playlist. This playlist will evolve and grow throughout the month, and if you’d like to listen and write it will almost be like we are listening/working together!! I’d love to hear if there is music you like to work to. Leave me a comment about songs you find inspiring or generative, and I’ll be sure to check them out!