Spring in yellow and blue
Solidarity in nature and art
On Thursday, I snapped a photo of several of my favorite paintings at the Amy Sherald show at SFMOMA (museum visits have been a gift this past week) — the modern age Mona Lisa that is her portrait of Michele Obama, the heartbreak beauty of Breonna Taylor, and one wall-sized portrait of a woman on a bicycle, a sunny scene of yellow and blue.
Spring so far has been a wash in those shades. The next day, I drove down the coast the other day, meeting my friend Sally in Pescadero, which we try to do regularly. I opened my mouth and “wowed” every time I rounded a bend in the road and saw a blaze of mustard flowers against a backdrop of ocean blue and sky. I've driven this road my whole life, whether at the wheel, or as a child in the backseat of my parent Impala, coloring and counting hawks (even then I thought it really cool that there were large raptors on nearly every telephone pole), but my familiarity with the scene did not lessen it impact. Stunning. If you can go drive down a coast ASAP (if not head for the hills, ashe poppies are out, too) I half expected to see Sherald’s cyclist pedal past.
Here in Alameda, it's been golden daffodils nodding from sidewalk planters and the occasional Ukrainian flag in a window. Yesterday, I noticed someone ran a flag up their boat’s mast at the marina and between the daffodils and mustard blooms, it's clear the gods and goddesses of the season are in solidarity with the Eastern European country as well.
Ugh. There is just so much. It’s impossible to stomach, and we shouldn’t be expected to! I’m so grateful the historians and disaffected journalists and professional activists are spelling out the crisis we’re in and how to resist and where to send our donations.
While I’ve a stack of Activate America posters to fill out urging folks to vote responsibly in the upcoming Wisconsin State Supreme Court election, I’m going to continue to use this space for writing more about how I’m personally navigating these times. And a big part of my navigation plan continues to be creative projects and liberal doses of nature. Am I doing it right? I have no idea. Am I struggling a bit with focus? You bet.
So going down the coast, seeing my oldest friend, is a necessary touchstone. We caught up over lunch at Duarte’s, sharing a piece of olallieberry pie, which was exactly as tart and berry-ful as it should be, one bite sending a memory burst of picking berries by he sides of the road, making jam, and other necessary pit-stops for a piece of pie.1
Listening on a drive — to podcasts or music — is a critical piece of the equation and Friday’s soundtrack featured the new tune by I'm With Her, a project featuring Sara Watkins, Sarah Jarosz, and Aoife O'Donovan, whose existence just gives me joy. Three extremely talented, sane-seeming, adult women at a peak, if not the height, of their collective writing, playing and harmonizing powers.
Dry leaves under my shoes
I got nothin' to lose
And now the clouds roll in
In the dark I'm gatherin'
While everything's unravelin'
I am buildin' a fire
Sparks and smoke rings
Fill up the night
When it catches
I'll be swimmin' in the ancient light— ‘Ancient Light’ by I’m With Her
Kind of the like the Sherald show, and my recent visit to the Margaret Killegan exhibit, that multi-faceted of work — which speaks to power and mystery, personal agency and inspiration — is exactly the kind of medicine I'm after right now.
I wished the whole album was out, because the other new release which rose to the top of my listening cue was by Jason Isbell. Solo, acoustic, impeccably played and engineered, it's a great showcase for his talents…but for the most part it just left a bad taste in my mouth. Someone else’s medicine, likely, but for me, it had some unwanted side effects. Equal parts divorce and new love album, the songs are vulnerable and illustrative of where people stop where it gets hard, and — my bias — the casual male entitlement I see even among the 'best’ men who, like Isbell, are pretty awake.
Pi Day is Friday March 14! Check out ‘14 Pie Recipes To Make for Pi Day’
We have to find whatever means we can do resist this takeover. I, too, have a pile of letters in front of me to write and send off to Wisconsin. That coast drive is so beautiful, glad you found solace there.