Recycled Recipes: Sour Punch and Altuzarra
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Hello from the other side of the non-New York Times internet, wherein we write and share on our personal platforms all the while abstaining (for 24 hours) from reading, writing, and watching theirs. My habit of listening to The Daily (quite daily) is on pause, because I stand with the more than 1,000 union workers in their very basic requests for wages that mirror today’s current climate.
That said, I do not have breaking news, besides the fact that it is 50 degrees and I am currently writing a piece on being intentionally single, and the quotes other women have offered me on the subject has filled me with equal amounts of joy and power. Speaking of power, the other day I skipped work and went to see Just Above Midtown at The MoMA for the second time in a month with a dear friend, and nearly cried about both aforementioned subjects. I didn’t nearly cry out of sadness, it was out of a clarity that I’m not sure I’ll be offered again in this lifetime. The kind of clarity that I couldn’t ignore even if I wanted to. The kind that asks me to be slow, caring, and giving to myself and others. It asks that I take notice and note. That I keep listening, and if I am able, keep creating, in the way Linda Goode Bryant outlines so very clearly throughout the show; “I’ve always had a fundamental belief that no one has power over me that I don’t give them.”
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