August Charcut.

This week's charcuterie is like when people just put their cured meats and stinky cheeses straight on the table. No plates, no fluff. Plus: little suns as bullet points.

Happy Friday, dear reader! No intro today, just charcut. Please do enjoy :)

Reads & bookish things:

𖤓 I stumbled upon this review of a new(ish) Everyman’s Library Pocket Poems anthology—Little Poems. I don’t agree with the reviewers take on “This is Just to Say” (they say not much to unpack, I say much), but I definitely want to buy this anthology, and many others after perusing the Everyman’s Library website. My Four Seasons anthology (which I wrote about here and here) is from Everyman’s Library, and I adore it!

𖤓 For more poetry, I’ve been enjoying poetryisnotaluxury on Instagram. It felt serendipitous when I found this quasi-interview with the anonymous account runner. Is that the right terminology? Account owner? That doesn’t really work for poetry, which is, in all of the important ways, owned by the person who reads it as soon as they do so. Here’s my favorite poem from this month:

By Jane Hirshfield

𖤓 Someone, somewhere here on Substack posted about the Proust Questionnaire and it really struck my fancy. I’m sorry that I don’t remember who it was and thus cannot give credit, but some of these questions would be great at a dinner party and all of them would be excellent journaling prompts.

𖤓 This Lapham’s Quarterly article “about the feuding sisters who popularized the American advice column” was a fun read. I think I would be a good advice columnist, but I would never feud with my sister.

𖤓 I was touched by this article on why it’s so damn hard to get rid of books. Of course, being both a lover of books and an individual genetically predisposed to hoarding tendencies, I’m not even advanced enough to get rid of books in the way described in this piece. However, the idea of books being an integral part of funeral or memorial services after death is perfect. It will be so one day.

𖤓 Speaking of sisters and memorial services, this week, my sister read a beautiful prose poem at the memorial service of a very important teacher who recently passed away. Though I never had the privilege of sitting in his classroom, Perry Epes was a kind and gentle man, and he made the world a better place. You can read Kathryn’s piece (page 2), and a few others here.

Sights:

𖤓 One Sunday morning at the green market at Tompkins Square, I was accosted (in a good way) by the most spectacular dahlias I’ve ever seen—at least since the times when I used to see them in my great-grandmother’s garden every summer. Those were surely more spectacular. I bought one for $10. Yes! A single one. A small price to pay to have a glimmer of her on my bedside table. I told the woman selling them that I had to have one because of this association. She told me she had the same thing with sunflowers and a grandfather. It was beautiful.

𖤓 A gift from the sea.

𖤓 Something that brought literal tears of joy to my sweet little eyes. An actual Pinkberry is opening—like a new location opening up—on 13th Street and 6th Avenue. Nature is healing. Joking aside though, Pinkberry was an enormous part of my childhood. I was in London around this time last summer, and there was one near our airbnb. It sent me into a rapturous tailspin. Knowing that I will soon have access to that kind of feeling on any given night of the week is euphoric. It really is the little things.

Sounds:

𖤓 I’m obsessed with Lola Kirke. My Spotify served her up to me on the good old silver platter that is my discover weekly. Whoever (or whatever) it is that monitors my account just really seems to get me. Not only does she have a fun poppy, country, Dolly, Kasey twang, but this lady also covers Jim Ford, who is one of the goatest. She’s playing at Bowery Ballroom in a couple weeks, and I think I’ll go see her.

𖤓 Speaking of live music, I saw The Nude Party (again) out in Montauk, and they did not disappoint. Those boys know how to put on a show! Later the same week I saw Yoke Lore at Irving Plaza, and he also didn’t disappoint because he couldn’t have because I had no expectations going in. I had the time of my life. I hate to be that girl, but live music with friends and lovers is pretty much impossible to beat. That’s the scandal-broth baby!

Clams I ate this month:

𖤓 I love them.

𖤓 I—yes ME—made these clams. I got them at Chelsea Market, as recommended by

FOUND

. Beautiful.

Humble suggestions:

𖤓 Become obsessed with something (like clams). It doesn’t have to be clams, though I think that’s a good option. Just choose anything that you genuinely like. Best results with something that is not super rare but not super common. Like clams. I can’t think of any other examples other than clams because I’m so obsessed with them. See what I did there? When I made Vongole at home this month, I could have screamed I was so happy. Every step of the way—walking to pick up the clams, talking to the clam man, carrying the clams home, washing them, cooking them, looking at them (!!!), and of course eating them. I created that happiness for myself out of thin air, simply by committing to the bit. The brain is a powerful tool, and loudly loving stuff is what makes you a cool person.

𖤓 Keep a Joy Journal™. I used to do this in the notes app on my phone, but now I keep an actual physical journal specifically for this purpose because it feels more intentional. I just write down the little things that bring me joy on the day to day. Little being the keyword. I may or may not have argued that this practice is the literal key to lasting happiness in this here post.

Notes from the Joy Journal™:

𖤓 (from 8/2) Washington Square Park smelled like cut grass this morning.

𖤓 (from 8/9) Eggs.

𖤓 (from 8/15) Seeing a giant dragonfly on 10th Street.

𖤓 (from 8/22) Giving the rocks and shells I brought home from the beach a soapy sink bath.

Devastations:

𖤓 I have a tree outside my window. The tree is my tree, because it is outside my window and because the tippy top of its canopy aligns exactly with the top of my window. In these summer months, my tree actually presses up against my window, and I’m pretty sure spiders use it as a little bridge to get into my room. Not so many that it’s an issue though, and it’s a small price to pay to have my tree outside my window. Recently I woke up and looked out my window to find that building management had sawed away all of the branches that previously leaned in towards me. My window feels naked, and so do I now when I walk around my room naked. It is very upsetting to me, and I’m sure to the spiders as well. I’m trying to view this as part of the larger change currently underway—my imminent move. Half of my tree is gone, and soon, I will be gone too, but not all of me, because part of me will always be here.

Victories:

𖤓 I have successfully converted my roommate Lexy into a loud and proud regency romance reader. Hooray! How’d I do it, you ask? With a light touch. No one likes to have something forced down their throat. I knew she dabbled in a contemporary romance from time to time, so I started her off with The Bromance Book Club. From there, it was only a hop skip and a jump to the Bridgerton series. I just received a message from her all the way from Italy, saying that When He Was Wicked was “BY FAR” her favorite. I always knew she had good taste

Other updates:

𖤓 I bought a sketchbook and small metal pencil sharpener that’s heavy in my hand so that I can draw with a sharp pencil. I haven’t used either yet, but I’m excited to…eventually. I’ve never been much of a visual artist, though I had my moments in middle school art class. Maybe now is my time to shine. Actually, now is definitely my time to shine.

Final feelings:

𖤓 Fall is coming!

𖤓 Life is beautiful!

𖤓 Love you, bye!