Dear friends,

How are you doing since I last wrote in March? Is it almost mid-April already? The past few weeks have felt like a Monet painting, a blur of days made of small individual brush strokes that only differentiate themselves when you stand really close. (By the way, if you didn't receive my first newsletter and you're wondering what the heck this is, start here--there was a small glitch when it sent out and a few of you didn't get it!)

What has given you small moments of joy recently amidst the Lysol haze, grocery strategizing, work upheaval, and panic from every throat tickle? I have cherished the terrible puns and ratty teddy bears neighbors place in their windows. The fact that I can do awkward dance moves to stretch in between meetings without my coworkers seeing me. Silly new routines like Friday night frozen pizza. Playing Zoom Pictionary at a friend's virtual birthday party. A conversation with two retired graphic designers chalking Easter eggs onto the sidewalk--I didn't realize just how much this extrovert missed random human connection until that moment.

It has been painful and infuriating to watch this pandemic amplify the ways in which our systems are fucked (no better synonym for this--sorry, mom). On more optimistic days, I tell myself some of the lessons of this time will hopefully remain if and when a vaccine becomes available. That we will realize how truly awful "normal" was for so many people, from marginalized folks to low-wage workers to artists to our isolated elders to medical professionals. That we will remember many people have experienced life in a body that other people fear every.single.day, not just in these social distancing months of deftly weaving around each other on the sidewalk. That we will vote for better leaders.

But on days when this all feels so overwhelming, I try to embrace this poet's notion that we manage most when we manage small. How are you supporting your well-being? How are you taking care of your family, friends, and local community? Whether you are bringing groceries to an elder or supporting local farmers, engaging in political activism or hosting virtual seders, I hope you have found a way to manage small during this strange blur.

Warm wishes,
Natalie

{Read}

Poetry
I've been posting poems on my 'ol blog every day of April in honor of National Poetry Month so just mosey on over there for some of the verse that's been grounding me these last few weeks.

Essays and Articles
I'm still thinking about the time I saw John Prine live in San Francisco five years ago. Poet and writer Hanif Abdurraqib on the unique sadness of Mourning Musicians Who Helped Us Grieve. Hala Alyan, clinical psychologist, poet, and novelist offers a beautiful reflection on interdependence and empathy from her Brooklyn apartment.

All day I think about my body in relation to other bodies. Everything is a calculation of intersection nowadays. [...] This pandemic seems to have at its core a lesson of kinship. What do we owe each other?

The Last Days of the Art World... and Perhaps the First Days of a New One. Roxane Gay's notes on power in a pandemic. English professor and poet (ok, so I have a thing for articles by poets apparently) Phil Metres writes a letter to his students, colleagues, and friends on how to expand the confines of moral imagination during quarantine. A fable for our time in Teju Cole’s new short story "City of Pain."

How many times do you use or read the phrase "I don't have the bandwidth for that," especially lately? I've been feeling uneasy about using that phrase for a long time now and this 2019 essay helped me crystallize why.

{Laugh}

I dare you to play this 90s video at the beginning of your next Zoom meeting. Poorly Drawn Lines always gets it right. John Krazinski brings us Some Good News. Saturday Night Live shoots their first episode from home hosted by Tom Hanks and it's so terrible it's almost funny (the Middle-Aged Ninja Mutant Turtles was especially bleak).

{Listen}

Thinking of three of the artists who passed from COVID-19 in the last two weeks. Blow up your TV, throw away your paper, go to the country, build you a home. Give country-folk singer John Prine a listen, shed a tear at this duet with Bonnie Raitt, and then check out this Tiny Desk home concert paying tribute to him. Jazz legend Ellis Marsalis and his incredible legacy. Adam Schlesinger was a gem well beyond Fountains of Wayne songs like Sick Day and Valley Winter Song that instantly take me back to high school.

{Watch}

TV
Despite all the buzz, I could only handle about five minutes of Tiger King before I had to switch it off. As a narrative addict, the show I can't tear my eyes away from now is the crime drama Ozarks about a couple who have to flee Chicago to the Ozarks after a money laundering scheme blows up in their face. It is not light by any means, but I'm one of those people who admittedly finds high-intensity dramas to be a welcome break from reality. And speaking of intense dramas, HBO is streaming several of their shows for free this month, including another favorite of mine, Succession, which follows the lives of a fictitious media titan and his family. Tune in for biting social commentary and an amazing mess of dysfunction, power struggles, and characters so detestable they make your stomach churn.

Movies
Ok to make up for those two heavy recommendations, try East Side Sushi and Uncorked for delightful movies that blend inspiration and levity without being fluffy. Just know that both of these films center around food and if you watch them at night you will find yourself very, very hungry and nostalgic for restaurants.

{For Your Kids}

Parenting During Coronavirus: You Are Enough. The Believer magazine spins off The Believer Jr. for your precocious 4-8 year old hipster. The Center for Puppetry Arts brings the fun to you. Cool educational tools from The Nature Conservancy. A collection of online storytime resources.