Letter of Delights
When perils are many, we can still turn to joy.
Last night I finished reading Ross Gay's Book of Delights, a gorgeous collection of mini-essays focusing on daily moments relishing in absurdity, serendipity, and joy. Each day for a year, he wrote one essayette (his word, not mine) to catalog the little things in life and how they magnify into bigger meanings.
In this moment where delight can seem like a high bar, reading this collection felt like a revelation of timeless joys we can still access: songs that make us feel (for Gay, two of these are "Stay" by Lisa Loeb and "Love Me in a Special Way" by El DeBarge), foods that bring appreciation or novelty (his: pecans, botan rice candy), and the relative permanence of nature (he writes about bumblebees, hummingbirds, fireflies, "the purple cornets of spring").
Of course, some of the essays felt like relics of a different time—Airplane Rituals, The Sanctity of Trains, Coffee Without the Saucer—and it threw me into a bit of a tailspin this weekend as we approach the mark of a full year lost to selfishness, incompetence, and deliberate malice. I'd be lying if I didn't say sadness is at an all-time high for me right now, so I’m writing this list to remind myself of my own delights when it comes to art and writing.
List of Creative Delights
Riffing on someone else's format or style (see: after poems, memes, this suddenly very meta list).
Silently writing or making art together simultaneously with others (via Zoom).
Consuming or creating separately/asynchronously but on the same topic, then coming together to share your work or insights (see: book clubs, prompts).
The way a new environment wakes up your wonder, your inner child, the part of you that says "why?" or "wow, look at that!"
When a stranger asks you what you're writing/reading/working on.
Bursts of inspiration while running, in the shower, or lying in bed as you transition into sleep (these are my peak "JUST THOUGHT OF A GREAT LINE" moments).
Not unrelated to the above—my ever-lengthening notes app.
Buying notebooks, art supplies, etc. because they're interesting, inspiring, or on sale, not because you have a plan for how to use them.
Finding a use for those notebooks/art supplies later and giving them new life.
Seeing a potential story, collage, art project in everything (these days, I can't look at any scrap of paper without thinking about how it would look as a cutout poem).
Creating before the sun is up.
Creating when the sun is at its peak.
Creating after the sun goes down.
Creating, period.
I’d love to hear a few of your creative delights as well, so feel free to hit "reply" and give us both the serotonin boost of reveling in the beautiful mundane.
A Rec or Two
White Negroes: When Cornrows Were in Vogue... and Other Thoughts on Cultural Appropriation by Lauren Michele Jackson
If this letter has put you in the mood for some fantastic essay writing, look no further. I knew a fair amount about how white people have appropriated Black culture to commodify and dilute it, but this collection is both informative, entertaining, and approachable no matter who you are or your pre-existing knowledge of the topic. Bonus: it doubles as a great Black History Month read that hasn't gotten as much attention from the big Black Lives Matter reading lists that came out last June.
SORTEDfood Tours the USA
My husband and I love watching food-related videos on YouTube, and there's something special about this series SORTEDfood made a few years back visiting lesser-traveled U.S. cities to experience the local cuisine. It's been wonderful armchair travel as we continue to stay home—accessible enough that it doesn't feel too out of reach (read: sad) for the somewhat near future, plus exciting enough to ignite the novelty we've been missing. We've seen their Chicago, Portland, New Orleans, Louisville, and Des Moines videos so far, but there are still so many more to explore.