The Longest Light of the Year
A collage letter of things I'm watching, reading, and doing
Dear Friends,
I walked south towards the No Kings Protest. I watched the first wave of protestors cross the foot bridge from City Island. Heard the chanting.
It took 30 minutes for the group to cross.
I don’t know what the protest will do, but it felt good to oppose with my body, in a crowd. Got literal goosebumps, a physiological response I am not prone to when in awe.
I am also scared in protests. I think of the woman who was killed in Charlottesville by a car. I kept looking around for guns aimed out of cars zipping past or a riffle on the boat that docked nearby. My body tensed to run at every moment. Unlikely… but not unreasonable. I felt like my body had been dunked in electricity. Took me two days to come down. And then the Minnesota murders…
To write anything while a world war kicks into gear because a man with a tiny dick wants to feel powerful feels absurd.
On any given day, I could most easily write about writing being hard. This may, in act, be the most writerly thing about me.
I have learned that I don’t actually dislike any on-screen genre. I will in fact watch anything in any genre if I love the characters enough. “I don’t watch medical shows”… I loved The Pitt. “I don’t do horror”… Get Out is genius and I’m planning on watching Sinners. “I don’t do monster fighting video games”… The Witcher seems right for me because of the people in it.
I watched the Materialists *spoilers ahead* and its such an odd movie. Beautiful to look at. Pretty people. There was such tenderness and mutual care between Johnson and Pascal. But the film is also deeply cynical? But also tried to be romantic? It was hard not to root for Johnson and Pascal over the absolute chaos of choosing a life structure she fundamentally didn’t want with Evans. Because it’s “easy” to love some people and not others? Because love happens to you? I don’t understand.
I had the same doubts about the character’s choices when I watched Bridgerton S3. Penelope gets the chance to be mistress of an estate, live independently of her husband (who is a good man) with deep respect between them—and instead gets finger fucked in a carriage by her childhood friend (and subsequent passionate fiance) who doesn’t know her secret identity and somehow that is supposed to make more sense…I AM GETTING OLD. That’s what this means. I’m probably the cynic.
Back to the Materialists. The whole assault was upsetting—how the film seems to resolve the plot because the woman ultimately stops suing the company and goes back out there to date. UGH. Felt so strange for it to come from the same director as Past Lives which I adored.
If you want to see Dakota Johnson play exactly the same character she always plays in gorgeous lighting across from a swoony Pedro Pascal and a meh Chris Evans (can’t believe I just wrote that) while saying things that aren’t exactly profound about modern dating, worth it.
Also watched Life of Chuck. Everyone sat still in the theater after it finished as if it had blown them apart and they needed to put themselves back together.
I… left as soon as the credits rolled. Am I heartless?!
Don’t think so. I sobbed the last 30minutes of Dying for Sex that same day.
But damn Tom Hiddleston can DANCE. That scene captures the joy of improvisational movement in a way I’ve never effectively seen represented in a movie. How erotic, full of life and vitality, while not meaning the two dancers will end up together in any way.
Let’s dance, little sister.
Finally read my purchase from Persephone Books in Bath, England, The Victorian Chaise Lounge. I expected exactly zero of what happened.
Natural follow up is to read John Greene’s new book on tuberculosis which I am now understanding as a venue/container for gender violence throughout history.
If you can, order from Persephone Books or visit it in your travels. Incredible shop and project. I’d love to see more presses and journals create spaces and experiences like this to feature their work.
I still haven’t looked at the group photos from my trip to England. But I keep dreaming about it at night. My dreams are peopled with fellow pilgrims.
I’ve become a gym-goer. Who uses the gym sauna after I work out and carry heavy things. I never saw this version of me coming. I think one of my favorite things about the years passing through me is always finding new things to love about being myself.
We had a solstice / house warming party. It was exhausting and magical. 51 people came through. Music held the street. Kids ran around and rode scooters and bikes and made up stories. I didn’t know most of these people a year ago. Almost zero of them two years ago. Some of them I met the day of the party. We’ve built a life here and that feels like a gift.
When I can’t see a way forward in the world, I remember my neighborhood and everything this community does to take care of each other. The ways I get invited to care for it too. Do I love that the Dauphin County Prison board chose a badly rated healthcare provider? Nope. Do I love that someone knew I’d want to write a scathing email about this problem to the county commissioners as part of a campaign? Yep. Mhmmm. I do love.
With Love,
Dana
Just saw materialists last night & had all the same feelings… there was absolutely no takeaway hahha but loved that her name was Lucy. Thank you for having us at your solstice party ❤️