Hello friends,

Each month for the last three I’ve told at least one friend when asked about my newsletter, “I think I’m going to take a pass this month.” Each time I felt sure there was no way I could pull it together, only to be surprised by the way things would fall into place. And really that’s the story of this letter as well. Life is still a little (too?) much at the moment, and I really intended to bail on this one too. But as I looked at the images I’d set aside to share I found myself still really wanting to include them. And though I wasn’t able to flesh out any of my ideas for writing this month, I figured I could at least share the things that are occupying the better part of my thoughts, interest, and attention right now. They’re as much notes to my future self as anything, but perhaps you’ll find something useful in them too.

For those who sent kind emails and notes after my last newsletter, I am so grateful. I’ve done my best - and failed miserably - to answer each of you back. But I’m getting there, and I truly am appreciative of all of your sweet words.

I always do love to hear from you, so please don’t hesitate to write me back. Just know that I may be a bit slower than usual to respond. Take care dear ones, and enjoy this beautiful month.

kg

THINGS I’VE LOVED + THOUGHT THIS MONTH

• Photographing with my little instant camera.

• This short album from Yo-Yo Ma recorded in Great Smokey Mountain National Park. (Pairs well with this not-so-short but still fantastic article, Yo-Yo Ma is Finding His Way Back to Nature Through Music, which I’ve shared before but never gets old.)

• Walks in the woods as my saving grace. A doorway to a deep joy I’m finding difficult to locate these days; a beautiful reminder that there is something to feel other than the ache.

• Also my soundtrack for these walks: water + wood + bramble + bone, and the moon overhead

• Forest fires as necessity, and why sometimes it’s a good idea to set pieces of our own lives ablaze. Burn it all down, and make space for something beautiful to take root and thrive.

• We do not, necessarily, get stronger in the broken places, and it’s a dangerous thing to believe otherwise.

• This quote from James Baldwin:

  “For nothing is fixed, forever and forever and forever, it is not fixed; the earth is always shifting, the light is always changing, the sea does not cease to grind down rock. Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them because we are the only witnesses they have. The sea rises, the light fails, lovers cling to each other, and children cling to us. The moment we cease to hold each other, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out.”

• And also this of his, which feels more necessary than ever:

  “I never have been in despair about the world. I’ve been enraged by it. I don’t think I’m in despair. I can’t afford despair. I can’t tell my nephew, my niece. You can’t tell the children there’s no hope.”

  Relatedly, this brilliant read: James Baldwin on How to Live Through Your Darkest Hour and Life as a Moral Obligation to the Universe.

• Lastly this absolutely perfect post-Halloween photograph from Carrie Usmar.

That’s all for this month. Thanks for being here.