In poetry + bonus book rec: I know Emily Dickinson is a bit of a hard sell to people who claim to not like poetry - on the one hand, most of her writing appears in bite-sized stanzas but on the other, words pop in and out of lines randomly, with unusual punctuation marks (the dash - A personal favorite) and startling, confusing intensity (so many exclamation points!). I think I might have grown to appreciate her more after reading These Fevered Days by Martha Ackmann, an absorbing inspection of the poet’s daily life with emphasis on her relationships to family and friends, even secret maybe-lovers. And Dickinson was not the weirdo hermit as commonly promoted, she just had very particular standards for people and her time. As an extroverted introvert, I related on a cellular level to many, many episodes of her life. Knowing more about how she wrote constantly, stashing thoughts + bits of poems on paper scraps in her pockets & drawers, sometimes sending them anonymously for publication, and how she delighted in the comfortable solitude of baking then she shared her goods with others, PLUS her joy of birds (mentioned more than 200 times in her poems) makes me even more satisfied with my forearm tattoo - Dickinson’s cooler [in my opinion] version of Carpe Diem, “Forever is composed of Nows” (from 690).
I love that most of her writing was meant only for herself and after her death, revealed feelings & observations many had never guessed, except those who had received her intimate letters. And so, I bring you today this lusty, lovely contemplation for a mysterious someone.
Wild nights - Wild nights! (269)
Wild nights - Wild nights!
Were I with thee
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile - the winds -
To a Heart in port -
Done with the Compass -
Done with the Chart!
Rowing in Eden -
Ah - the Sea!
Might I but moor - tonight -
In thee!
In books: I just started reading a novelized biography of Anna May Wong and am enthralled. The Brightest Star by Gail Tsukiyama is engaging & rich, incorporating U.S. history and details of Wong’s life as a Chinese American woman, from her Los Angeles childhood in the early 20th century throughout her lifelong fight for equality & equity in a racist Hollywood.
I’m impressed by the way she boldly left high school against her traditional family’s concerns in order to pursue her dream of being the first Chinese American film star; I’m fascinated by her cultivated connections to well-known actors & writers & directors at the time (many of them also women), and am wondering how different American entertainment would be today if she had lived longer. The video below1 features contemporary performers, writers, and moviemakers reflecting on Wong’s powerful strides while also illuminating how far the industry has yet to go.
Also check out this fantastic story about Wong’s niece and Bruce Lee’s daughter meeting to discuss their relatives’ legacies.
In food & music: I am a shameless fan of Hello Fresh and look forward to our Tuesday deliveries with more glee than is probably acceptable for a modern independent woman. I think I’m a pretty good cook in general but I relish opening the box of exact portions + step-by-step instructions that help me get everything completed at the same time with no tears. And thanks to this service, I’ve also developed an unexpected fondness for making risotto - or as I’ve come to think of it, dinnertime meditation. If you’ve never made risotto, it requires about 30 minutes of stirring hot water into a pan of seasoned Arborio rice in 1/2 cup measures, stirring until each bit of water is absorbed. Constant stirring. Continually stand & stir. Because if you ignore it for more than a few seconds the rice violently rejects the water, or maybe something explodes, or a civilization collapses…I don’t know; I’m afraid to find out. Just keep stirring.
This laborious prep means I need to pour my glass of dinner-making wine and put on an album I love before getting into the kitchen-hostage situation. Because I listen to actual vinyl albums like a proper suburban hipster, I do have to race to flip it during the Risotto Stirring Event but it’s worth it when I’ve chosen wisely. This week I picked the glorious Buckingham Nicks from 1973. Shockingly, it was not well-received at the time and to add grave insult to this fact, Stevie Nicks was coerced into her nude pose for the cover. I hate that this happened to her and that she felt compelled to stay with Lindsey Buckingham after his frequent, blatant assholery but this is a gorgeous album, and she continues to kick ass in ways he’ll never know.
And, it soothed me during the stirring.
Unfortunately removed by PBS but please try to find it on your local public broadcasting website.