notes & things | 1/19/2025
Yesterday, even as a new cold snap took hold of the city and shook, I ventured out for the first time in two weeks to catch a screening of Grand Theft Hamlet, a delightfully clever piece developed during covid when two actors and a filmmaker decided to stage a Hamlet production inside a video game. As auditioned actors /players and kept getting shot / blown up /attacked by the police, it brought to mind Station Eleven, which I read shortly after it came out and then loved the HBO short series a couple years back, which also involves a group of Shakespearean players performing under apocalyptic distress, so much so, I've suggested that J and I watch it this week. Mostly for that similar theme of making beauty, telling stories, amid the horrors of whatever your current circumstances happen to be.
Even as the nation teeters on much badness (someone on BlueSky just described it as that moment at the top of the rollercoaster where it quiets for a second and you can see for miles in the silence before the screams) there are things of beauty to be found. Pancake breakfasts cooked or fancy croissants ordered surreptitiously by J while I am still sleeping. Pretty gray sweater dresses and tights. Good coffee. Raspberry seltzer. Soft and exquisite paper that arrived for the wedding invites. Poems and editing chaps and designing covers. Working on the thrifting memoir in bits.
It's tempting to face the next four years as I faced 2020--an endless series of doomscrolling and doomspiraling, but I am going to try not to, limit my time one socials to just morning updates, avoid the news mostly. If I want to scroll or spend time on the internets randomly, I'll look at Pinterest which is much more inspiring than doomish.
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