Hello friends,

I don’t know about y’all, but getting through January feels like a triumph; just surviving the coldest, darkest, bleakest month a victory. I woke up at 5am this morning (the beauty of homeschool is sleeping in until 7) just feeling a sense of relief. The weather is starting to tease a little more sunshine and some warmer afternoons, and life feels - even if ever so slight - a bit brighter.

It’s been two months really since my last letter. Mostly things are the same, but some things have changed too. I cut my hair the shortest it’s ever been. It’s cute, but I refuse to document it; it doesn’t feel like me. I cleaned out, reorganized, and updated my studio, hanging all the artwork I’ve collected from my favorite people over the years. I’ve taken very few photographs and most of them have been indoors, which is rare. But I’ve also started writing again.

Perhaps the biggest change is a new page on my website, These Last Few Months. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about myself it’s that I make in order to process; writing and photographing and bringing something into being all help me work through, make sense of, and even just deal with whatever I’m facing in life. After sharing a bit about what I was going through with my youngest, I knew this was something I needed. But this particular struggle isn’t something I necessarily want mingling with the rest of my work and website. So I created a page to allow me to process and explore, separate from everything else. I have no idea how long I will keep it; I may ditch and delete it after a month or two, or perhaps it will morph into something else entirely. For now I’m adding entries in the style of a blog, oldest at the bottom, newest up top. The page is not linked anywhere on my site, it’s only available through this newsletter. That said, feel free to pass it along. In my hardest times I’ve found hope and comfort and recognition in the words of others; I’m happy if something I write could do the same for someone else.

As always, thanks for sharing this space with me. I hope you each are well, enjoying the new year and feeling the promise of spring. And you know how much I love to hear from you, so write me back.

much love -

kg

THESE LAST FEW MONTHS

THE DE-EVOLUTION OF JOY

These days I think of time as split, as if there is a line somewhere that separates life before and life after. At the time the change felt sudden and jarring, like I was thrown from one reality headlong into another with no warning. But there is no line, really; just a blur of time in which everything turned upside down.

When I stumble across old pictures of him, carefree and smiling, I suddenly find a lump in my throat. Sometimes I catch my breath and struggle to hold back tears. Though he’s always had an intensity about him, his default was - unfailingly - joy; laughter and grins and a silly side the likes of which I’d never seen. He sang. He played. He was by any measure a happy kid. My heart aches to have that back.

As things got bad the best I could do to describe it was to say that it was like watching him fade away into nothing; my once exuberant little boy a frail and hollow shell. The hardest part has been knowing that he’s still in there, but not knowing how to get to him, how to bring him back. Where did he go? I pore through photographs begging them for answers.

NEW YEARS DAY

It is the first day of the new year and mostly I have looked forward to it with a mix of dread and indifference. But I spend a small piece of it in the woods with my boys. It’s not too cold though the woods are empty. Just us, and the birds. My youngest laughs more than he has in many, many months. His playfulness is like a balm to me. I need this moment to last, to be able to come back to it. I raise my camera but there is a shift. He turns his head and protests. Instead I take a picture of his brother lying on a bench pretending to be a corpse.

AT THE MOMENT

LISTENING TO

I’ve mentioned Leif Vollebekk’s older albums before; he’s maybe my absolute favorite and a couple of his records stay on repeat around here. But while I await his next I’ve been digging on New Ways all over again.

READING IN

I don’t often do audiobooks, but I’ve been listening to Suleika Jaouad’s Between Two Kingdoms on afternoon walks and finding a great deal of both wisdom and comfort.

CRUSHING ON

I stumbled into Val Moore’s page, Appetite Life, which he (rightly!) calls a ‘calm corner of the internet,’ a couple of months ago and it has become my absolute favorite place to visit. His videos are so beautiful and soothing; I think I could listen to him for hours. Bonus points that the recipes all look amazing too. (pro tip: don’t go over there hungry.)

THINKING ABOUT

American Symphony, and the idea of survival as a creative act.

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