Just Bones
"Are My Autumn Outfits Reflections Of My Art?" and other things I've thought in the last 24 hours
Hi, how are you? When I wrote you last month, I believe I started out the letter with the same. Every text I send between the days and weeks begins the same as well. I have been hiding in the cast of days, folding myself between the body of work I made and the time before it gets to you. A friend said that this particular time makes author’s quite crazy. I agree. But what about it is so difficult?
On texts, Hi how are you, reflects back at me. Instead of answering, I spit the question right back because my answer would be to air-out the confidence and the deep vulnerabilities at once. It is a loaded question. Ernest Hemingway once gave advice on writing and moving past writing blocks which feels fitting for these past months.
The best way is always to stop when you are going good and when you know what will happen next. If you do that every day … you will never be stuck.
I stopped “knowing” the next part of the story a few months back. It’s difficult to “keep going” on the book train when although you’ve done it before, the body, the work, and the readers are changed. We all are. I know what happens next, like the beginnings of an outline, when what will be of a book is laid out in a few pages, thoughts, and possibilities. I often call a book’s outline, bones. Right now, this story after I’ve written Stand in My Window and before it gets to you, my thoughts and I remain a stack of bones. “Hi, how are you?” is a question I can’t answer. However, given the state of things this year for so many, I know that this is true with an odd and heartbreaking frequency.
Hi how are you, what’s new? said Steve.
Yesterday, summer turned into fall and I wore a chunky cardigan I’ve worn for years now. I attempted to style it differently, but no luck. I thought about reframing the way I even wrote that line to you, no luck. I remember writing something similar in my old blog days. Here we are again. But I am not. We are not. This is new terrain.
My outfits consist of the same small or vintage things. Additions make their way, but they’re gifts and small in size. I wondered yesterday (and likely all the weeks before that), if I’d ever move out of the box of dressing that I’ve become?
When do we get to the part of the story when I buy the very fancy clothes?
Where are my Prada sunglasses?
Do I even WANT Prada sunglasses?
When is the part of the story when I do not style an outfit at the cusp of fall exactly, nearly the same, despite the years of difference?
I can’t escape the vulnerabilities of a new project. It seeps into all the things, but most clearly, the clothes—the armor—I am supposed to wear to protect me in this season, so that I may (or the work) continues to possibly comfort folks.
When what could be were thoughts, nor conclusions or feelings, I met my friend Kelsey to style some fall looks ahead of summer’s heat. Tonight, I’ll be wearing this look for the most part with a few tweaks to an important work event.
Are my thoughts a reflection of my clothes?
Are my clothes a reflection of my art?
Is Stand In My Window driving me absolutely crazy? Yes.
I am grateful for the discomfort.
Just bones.
With Love,
L
7 Things I Imagined:
+ REGISTERED TO VOTE? HERE’S AN EXPLAINER I WROTE FOR CUP OF JO IN 2022
+ In the summer of 2023 I went to Accra, Ghana and fell in love with it in a short amount of time; always tinkering and edging on when and how to get back to a place mostly unknown but familiar. Years before that, I became a long term supporter and fan of Mini Rodini (many of you may know from when the kids were tiny). This autumn, they collaborated with the children of Besesaka Boxing and Education, on a capsule collection of sporty and cozy clothes. 20% of the clothes sold from the collaboration support the program, which only imbues the long-term nearly “mythical spirit of boxing in Bukom." Learn more here.
+ Jordan Casteel: Field of View
+ I married my best buddy yesterday and wore my grandmother’s vintage dress. I shared these words by bell hooks, which I’ll share with you today…
“A generous heart is always open, always ready to receive our going and coming. In the midst of such love we need never fear abandonment. This is the most precious gift true love offers - the experience of knowing we always belong.”
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+ You can pre-order a personalized and signed copy of Stand In My Window exclusively from BEM
+ A poetically reverent inspection of safety, embodiment, and inheritance through the lens of inhabiting space. wrote Kirkus Reviews
Hang on! You got married yesterday?? I read that wrong, right? Sending big appreciation as you cross the creek of this time on the narrow log of day by day. We look forward to reading!