Reader and lovely human Amy Whitney sent me this poem after my last newsletter. She, too, is a creature of winter.
The Flame God, give us a long winter and quiet music, and patient mouths, and a little pride—before our age ends. Give us astonishment and a flame, high, bright. —Adam Zagajewski tr. Renata Gorczinski and Clare Cavanaugh
Poetry, recommendations, enthusiasms—I love to receive them. Share with abandon!
One of my greatest enthusiasms is social justice, including the right for people to live free from the threat of violence at home and in the world. I take a moment here to honor the life of Tyre Nichols, Black American, artist, son, father. His life was taken from him by six Memphis police officers in an act of terrorism against all Black Americans (otherwise known as a traffic stop). If you don’t know, that terrorism has always been the raison d’être of the police in the United States. (The historian Jill Lepore provides a good primer here.) Nichols’s funeral is today; Vice President Kamala Harris will attend. Policing in the U.S. has never been just, regardless of whether good and sincere people work within its system. I support abolition.
Today, February 1, is the eve of Imbolc, Candlemas, St. Brigid’s Day, a significant holy day in the Pagan calendar. Brigid was an Irish Goddess before she was a saint. She is most often depicted at her forge; she is a Goddess of smithcraft, fire, inspiration, poetry, and healing. Joanna Powell Colbert writes in her newsletter today:
Reverence for her has continued unbroken throughout the centuries, just as it has for Kwan Yin and the Virgin of Guadalupe — three Mothers of Mercy. Beloved as St. Brigid, her sacred flame was kept alight for over a thousand years but was extinguished during the Reformation. It was relit in the 1970s and has been burning ever since, kept alive by the Brigadine Sisters of Kildare.
In Great Britain, this is the time of the sheep’s lambing, and their milk has provided sustenance for humans, too, during the long cold winter. “Imbolc” means “in the belly,” and I always think of the gift of mother’s milk, including the animals’ milk, at this time of year. (But I should more accurately, and less romantically, speak of human mothers’ milk as simply “human milk,” for not everyone who lactates and feeds their child this way is a mother or a woman.) This substance, the milk, is both a miracle and the most everyday common thing, and that is a good definition of holiness for me.
Tomorrow, on Brigid’s day, I’m leaving for a long weekend at Saltonstall, the artists’ colony near my home, to work on the book I’m writing. I’m looking forward to long, quiet hours alone to live inside the world of the story, to sink deep into my imagination and stay there for more than an hour or two. I’m preparing food to take with me and stocking up on snacks, seltzer, and tea. It’s supposed to be very cold outside, so I’m taking the winter gear I need to walk the land. I’ve been looking forward to this for months. If you’re a writer, photographer, or visual artist residing in New York State, you can book a stay at Saltonstall during the off season, paying $35 a night for a room and quiet studio space, shared kitchen, and private walking trails. They have accessible space for artists with movement disabilities.
Things that are getting me through right now:
Finally, some cold and sun
Workouts with my trainer extraordinaire, Kathy Lucas, and classes at 5Sisters dance studio
Anticipation of Broadway (“Hadestown”!) in mid-February and hot spring-fed pools in Aurora for my birthday in March
The Odyssey choir is back in rehearsals for the spring.
Nora spicy tempura seaweed snacks (you can find these at Wegman’s in the Asian food aisle)
A devastatingly good Gua Sha facial with Holly Green at Norabloom
The prose in Lidia Yuknavitch’s Thrust
My holy grail skin care product for my very finicky skin, A313
My public library and the interlibrary loan program
My winter CSA share—fresh lettuce in winter, need I say more?
As always, my spouse, my kid, my kid’s friends, my friends
And beauty
Enjoy Saltonstall! It's a wonderful place to hunker down for a winter weekend. I hope the time is fruitful.
Lovely post, Sara. I notice in the picture in your home a statue that looks like a Vinblad. I have some of this art that was collected by my mother, and I very rarely see it. Your retreat sounds absolutely wonderful. May it prove very fruitful for your writing!