hesitant light

what soothed, enlightened and moved me this Winter ~

A photo of the art and objects in front of my desk, bathed in morning light.

Dear friend,

The spring equinox arrives today like a parade. Here in Chicago, the grass winks a brighter green, the sun floods everything, spills everywhere; the birds are so loud, finally home from their winter migration.

The title of this month’s letter comes from a John O’Donohue poem in which he writes: “Try, as best you can, not to let / The wire brush of doubt / Scrape from your heart / All sense of yourself / And your hesitant light.” As I get older, this hesitance roots in a place of wisdom. The more we know of the world and its darkness, the less uninhibited we are, afraid the darkness will swallow up all of our light. And yet, despite our often dismal reality, the Spring still comes — gentle, sweet, tender — a stunning contradiction.

This year has been full of contradictions. Navigating dichotomies and surprises: weeping at the MIA’s American Gothic exhibit; radiating with resonance at The Black Girl Altar; the delight of collaging found pieces into something uniquely mine; feeling gratitude and resentment weave together in my chest as I clutched custom-made cedar bookmarks; embracing the quiet beauty of long walks through the cemetery; celebrating and writing about my friend’s documentary; welcoming salty tears, ocean running down my cheeks; roller skating and ice skating round and round the rink like a little girl; getting lost in the hypnotizing blaze of candles on my altar, on birthday cakes, in the home of a lover.

Left to right: Photo by Gordon Parks of Ella Watson and her chosen family, a quick collage made during a class exercise, a reflective pond in the cemetery with two ducks floating in the distance, me holding my purple ice skates

This month’s letter is an evolution of the monthly “gift baskets” I emailed to paid subscribers last year. I found that monthly cadence and structure was actually pulling me further from writing quality, long-form essays which is how I most want to use this platform. Moving forward, I hope to share seasonal “gift baskets” — highlighting what I’ve been reading, listening to, and watching and any other fun updates — four times per year, for paid subscribers. This month’s is available to everyone so folks have an idea what these seasonal letters will look like!

Below are more of the things that have soothed, enlightened and moved me this winter.

What I’ve been reading 📖

This essay by Naomi Klein about the ongoing genocide in Gaza, the film The Zone of Interest and its director’s Oscar speech, is particularly convicting and poignant. She writes:

More than five months into the daily slaughter in Gaza, and with Israel brazenly ignoring the orders of the international court of justice, and western governments gently scolding Israel while shipping it more arms, genocide is becoming ambient once more – at least for those of us fortunate enough to live on the safe sides of the many walls that carve up our world. We face the risk of it grinding on, becoming the soundtrack of modern life.

I just finished Alice Walker’s The Color Purple — a universe where abuse and violence coexist with redemptive love, humor and miracles. In a writing class I’m currently taking, the instructor had us read an excerpt from Toni Morrison’s Sula about love and survival . . . Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about love from a womanist perspective, and found myself returning to bell hooks’s writing, as well. I’m also adding this essay about “the intermittency and mutability of love” to my list of reflections on the topic.

Through the various poetry workshops I’ve been a part of, lots of delicious poems have come my way: this caress for my achey heart, this ode and this prayer. I was also able to experience an in person writing workshop led by Jasmine Mans¹. It felt so full circle to be in Chicago on my own path toward a rich writing life, celebrating her first book and experiencing her creative guidance.

A row of books by Black authors, gifted to me earlier this month (and my little feet!)

I’ve just started reading Healing Justice Lineages: Dreaming at the Crossroads of Liberation, Collective Care, and Safety by Cara Page and Erica Woodland. A black ancestral healing group I was a part of last year mailed me this book and others in copies of two with the intention that I would gift the duplicate copies. When the package arrived at my door, I felt so blessed — truly lucky and chosen and cherished. I opened the box of glossy new books like it was Christmas morning.

What I’ve been listening to 🎧

This year, I’ve been trying to see more live music. I was able to see Jamila Woods’ show at the Vic Theater last month (which I wrote about for my local newspaper) and saw Arlo Parks’s **incredible** performance at Thalia Hall this past Saturday.

While on a little winter trip to Minneapolis, my friend introduced me to this Cuban artist, La Dame Blanche. Her A COLORS SHOW performance is so surreal and sensual.

Last year, I bought this Roberta Flack album on vinyl and have been playing “Feelin’ That Glow” in the morning while sunlight rushes into my living room, refracting on light catchers as it moves. I’ve also gone all the way down a Jacob Collier rabbit hole starting with this very long but illuminating podcast. I’m a little late to the obsession with his musicality but I’m all the way in now and hoping to experience the audience choir when I see him perform this summer. Some of these songs and more are woven together in this season’s playlist:

What I’ve been watching  👀

I stumbled upon this video about a Japanese designer’s open air house and continue to feel moved and inspired by the power of thoughtfully designed physical spaces. Da’Vine Joy Randolph’s Oscar acceptance speech had me in tears. The montage at the end of this vlog (and all the vulnerable reflections before it too) make me want to carve out some extended time in solitude before summer arrives. I also really appreciated the music video for Willow’s new song “symptom of life.”

Abbott is back which feels like such a balm. It’s nice to have something so heartwarming in moderation — 30 minute stories doled out slowly week after week like medicine. I also watched All of Us Strangers which was a perfectly acted surrealist dream/nightmare. It made we cry cry cry and sit with what it means to love and forgive.

With love,

Jas

1. I started following Jasmine Mans back when she was a part of The Strivers Row. I remember sitting in a room at Texas A&M University with a bunch of other teens during a summer writing class and watching the new series Brave New Voices on HBO. Discovering spoken word poetry at that moment in my life felt transformative. There’s something kismet about having another touch point with someone whose pursuit of their dreams reminds and encourages me to pursue my own.