Channeling is a semi-regular dispatch from Jenna Wortham about creativity, life, everyday mysticism, and coping mechanisms.
Feel free to share excerpts of Channeling on social media or send it to someone who you think might enjoy it. As always, thank you for your time, energy, and presence.
sliced papaya, drenched in fresh lemon
The other day my neighbor friends gave me some lemons from their yard. They look like wrinkled little limes, hard green ovals, but when you cut into them, their precious insides spill out, a bright yellow to balance all the toughness. Halves of a miracle. It’s the simplest thing, but it makes me so happy. I put them in water, in salad dressing, on fruit. I keep a few in a bowl, just to look at until I’m ready for them. They remind me that so much can come from so little, just sun and dirt. There’s not much at scale offering comfort these days, or even joy, so for me, zeroing in on the tiniest bits of beauty and tenderness seems to help.
What are the things that are bringing you delight right now? Keeping your heart, tongue, body afloat? Perhaps it’s an old song, or a new flavor? A silky texture or a dense book? A reassuring ritual or reliable recipe? I look forward to reading and responding to your comments.
title via “What to Eat, What to Drink, and What to Leave for Poison,” by Camille T. Dungy
🍋 🍋 🍋
This newsletter will always be free. To support the work, consider becoming a paid subscriber. A portion of paid subscriptions this month will go to Transanta, a mutual aid organization that donates holiday gifts to queer and trans youth who are unhoused, in foster care, or otherwise without vital support systems.
open thread: come now, taste what the world has to offer
Channeling is a semi-regular dispatch from Jenna Wortham about creativity, life, everyday mysticism, and coping mechanisms.
Feel free to share excerpts of Channeling on social media or send it to someone who you think might enjoy it. As always, thank you for your time, energy, and presence.
The other day my neighbor friends gave me some lemons from their yard. They look like wrinkled little limes, hard green ovals, but when you cut into them, their precious insides spill out, a bright yellow to balance all the toughness. Halves of a miracle. It’s the simplest thing, but it makes me so happy. I put them in water, in salad dressing, on fruit. I keep a few in a bowl, just to look at until I’m ready for them. They remind me that so much can come from so little, just sun and dirt. There’s not much at scale offering comfort these days, or even joy, so for me, zeroing in on the tiniest bits of beauty and tenderness seems to help.
What are the things that are bringing you delight right now? Keeping your heart, tongue, body afloat? Perhaps it’s an old song, or a new flavor? A silky texture or a dense book? A reassuring ritual or reliable recipe? I look forward to reading and responding to your comments.
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title via “What to Eat, What to Drink, and What to Leave for Poison,” by Camille T. Dungy
🍋 🍋 🍋
This newsletter will always be free. To support the work, consider becoming a paid subscriber. A portion of paid subscriptions this month will go to Transanta, a mutual aid organization that donates holiday gifts to queer and trans youth who are unhoused, in foster care, or otherwise without vital support systems.
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