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Weekly Waxing #1

So here I am, humbly returning to the public page after a few months away, with greater clarity about the shape and purpose of this writing project in my life—as well as a Rumsfeldian reminder that I don't know what I don't know.

Hello from my Hermit Hole for the first time since April!

I've just turned 28, and one cliché proving itself true in this birthday season is that the older I get, the less I know. This is something I love about the Tarot: it's a mystery full of mysteries, a set of archetypes deeply rooted in the human psyche bound to shake loose all kinds of ancient and bizarre truths.

What I'm trying to say here is that I thought I knew what the Hermit was about, and as I live through my Hermit Year, I am learning with each new dawn that I had no idea at all, and that each day is its own lesson. Life said, You think you're a student of life, you want to learn what it means to turn inward? You want to know true hermitage? And it showed me.

So here I am, humbly returning to the public page after a few months away, with greater clarity about the shape and purpose of this writing project in my life—as well as a reminder that I don't know what I don't know.

So here, and hopefully on a more regular basis, I'll share some slices of life: what I'm thinking about, reading, listening to, participating in, mulling over, learning from. And on a less regular basis, I'll share longer, meatier essays and prose poems as I'm able to turn them out. Sound good? (Good!)


Weekly Waxing #1

It's the third week of Cancer season, the Gemini moon is waning, and I'm waxing on...

What's blooming in the gardens

As expected in early July, flowers are coming into bloom across my garden plots. In the back garden are the bright yellow faces of the black-eyed susans (Rudbeckia hirta) and prairie coreopsis (Coreopsis palmata).

In the center garden, I tend four beds and countless containers of fruits, vegetables, herbs, and forbs. Blooming this week are the blanketflowers, echinacea, butterfly milkweed, calendula, lobelia, hollyhock, vervain, and anise hyssop.

Two garden trellises and the edge of a garden bed. On the left trellis is purple vervain, on the right trellis are pink hollyhocks and peppermint. In the bed are red and yellow blanketflowers and deep red lobelia.
Two garden trellises and the edge of a garden bed. On the left trellis is purple vervain, on the right trellis are pink hollyhocks and peppermint. In the bed are red and yellow blanketflowers and deep red lobelia.

As I write here beside the bed, a tiny zinnia bud is making its way open, and we've also seen the first open blossom of cucumber. I started both of these plants indoors from seed this spring, something I had hardly ever done before. If I tried to put words to my pride, the word processor might explode.

A star-shaped yellow cucumber blossom leaning against a cedar wood trellis. It's surrounded by the fuzzy green vines of the cucumber plant and a few green calendula leaves.
A star-shaped yellow cucumber blossom leaning against a cedar wood trellis. It's surrounded by the fuzzy green vines of the cucumber plant and a few green calendula leaves.

I've also been delighted by the blooms on the moth mullein in both the back garden and along our front fence, by the milkweed patch. They are so cute! Who would I be to weed them out?!

Two tall, tapering, green moth mullein plants. Each stalk has two stalks growing from it, and each stalk is tipped with soft yellow blossoms.
Two tall, tapering, green moth mullein plants. Each stalk has two stalks growing from it, and each stalk is tipped with soft yellow blossoms.

What's on one-track repeat

She's my queen, and she's the devil's daughter / knowing all about it makes it easy

Listen. I don't know a damn thing about this song, or the artists, or their collaboration. I just think it's neat. Hard to beat a simply plucked guitar and a spare, intriguing story conveyed via lilting harmony. The tale in the lyrics reminds me a lot of the (excellent, horrifying) short film "Her Only Living Son" by Karyn Kusama, which was featured as the fourth and final short in the 2017 Netflix horror anthology XX.

I've had this track on and off rotation since Spotify's nefarious algorithm pitched it at me back in the spring (sorry, sorry). I usually do love to contextualize my music intake as much as possible, so if you ride for Kacy & Clayton or Marlon Williams, please be a reply guy about it.

What's been on my screen (and in my stomach)

For my birthday, Kal and I watched Woodlands Dark and Days Bewitched: A History of Folk Horror and WOW was it good. It's a documentary on folk horror in film with a companion watchlist of over 200 films, of which I've seen maybe 10. I was enchanted for every moment of the 3+ hour runtime (although we did watch it in three or four sessions because we are, after all, millennials).

I'd be a fool not to mention that for my birthday, my beloved baked me the world's cutest cake: strawberry with strawberry filling, swiss meringue buttercream, and a heart-meltingly charming starry sunset theme.

One hot take

I don't care about Barbie or Oppenheimer, but I might double feature them on opening day because a dear friend asked nicely (pending a panic attack in the bathroom during/after the nuke movie).


Thanks for sticking around to the end of this weekly waxing! As always, I welcome your thoughts and shares—you can reply to me directly by replying to this email. Feel free to forward to a friend who might enjoy it as well.

Wishing you an easeful, restful end to this lunar cycle. 🌘❤️

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