(Because why on earth not?)
i. Red lipstick. My love affair with this brilliant little creature began a few years ago, & is the sort of situation from which there is no escape. I believe in red lipstick’s power to heal, to boost, to quail, to transform, to glow. These days I am known in the circles I frequent as "the one with the lipstick", & I am always up for sharing brand recommendations. Red lipstick turns every outfit into honey or bramble, refusal & allowance all at once. I consider it a hazard to leave the house without it. (Also, I will not lie, I rather adore how every time I wear a red lipstick, the entire world is decadently aware of who & what I kiss. But maybe that is just me.)
ii. Freckles, moles, scars, stretch marks, tan lines, every other gorgeous piece of poetry marked on a body—a life—well lived. I always go back to the last line of my dear friend Caitlyn Siehl’s gorgeous ode to her stretch marks — I am a world that cannot be explored / in one day. / I am not a place for cowards. Amen, amen, amen.
iii. Furious organising days. Since I am moving out & university-bound soon, I have been spending much time digging old books out of the back of my shelves, trying on shirts that might have fit me in the eighth grade, spreading twelve years’ worth of school paperwork in small piles around me on the floor, highlighting & sticky-noting more than is probably sustainable, finding an honestly troubling number of coins & bills & even cheques scattered in various nooks & crannies across my space. It’s a bright thing, a healing thing. Feels a little like baptism or like resurrection.
iv. Accent walls. My baby sister has, however inadvertently, turned me on to this odd little design quirk—I breathe a secret little laugh when I see one I particularly like, the way it feels like a wink, a smirk of art.
v. Gentle happy flirting with maybe-something-more friends. The inhale at the beginning, the tentative newness of a love that could be, the choosing of outfits & the scrutinising of text messages. For once, the deep not-knowing. It's a first movement & a reprise all in one.
vi. People who are kind to ants. Also: spiders, snakes, mice, & other animals considered conventionally undesirable. I think one way to get to the core of a person very quickly is to watch how they react when a non-adorable animal crosses their path, to see exactly how that reaction differs from the way they treat dogs & cats & butterflies. &, of course, to adjust your relationships accordingly.
vii. Spending the whole day in bed—working, writing, sleeping, reading, dreaming, & all the rest. I do believe, these days, in this sort of etched & soft-lit flux-state, in lingering in patches of shadow & sun, ambered & slow. Like a love letter to oneself, knowing that the world can wait for a day to see you again. The whole thing a stunning contraption of song drifting from the radio, of clean-pressed sheets, stillness & movement & warmth, thinking: maybe this is it, the whole thing, all along. Maybe this was always what we were here to do.
p.s. love these small reminders of the good in the world? support their creation on patreon (& receive small weekly notes & poetry from yours truly as a thank you gift).