I’m not really sure where to begin, and I know commas aren’t strictly supposed to act as pauses, but I use them like that anyway. It feels as though as some point in the last two months I fell into a pond, and only now am I beginning to climb out because in some ways the pond was quite a comfortable place to be. In fact I probably began to climb out of the pond when I exited the bathtub last night, having sat in there for perhaps two hours.
Sample of reasons for feeling like I had fallen into a pond:
A manuscript deadline
Anxiety with a similar ferocity to the invasive rhododendron species here
The piling up of tasks
The piling up of large questions
The pain that comes with noticing the entire world
I ignored many things in the days before submitting the manuscript, including all of my emails and the concept of acting rationally. If you haven’t heard back from me lately, it’s because I was in the pond.
What I’ve been thinking about since putting feet back on damp land is that it’s terribly easy for people to be under illusions, which can feel like being underwater but also just like breathing. These illusions are usually things like thinking that we are taking time to rest, or believing that we are being kind to ourselves, or that we are listening to what others are saying, or that we are living the right and good life. It is so, so easy to live alongside this sort of illusion.
I’m thinking this because I noticed that I never choose to wear the socks I prefer above all the others, instead wearing the socks that are thinning on the heels followed by the socks I have no particular attachment to, and by the time I’ve reached the socks I think are charming, I’ve already washed the unremarkable socks and the whole thing starts over. Whoever heard of saving socks for some perfect and nonexistent moment? This is a ridiculous thing to be telling you but it is an example of such an illusion: I believe that I believe in myself yet I never allow myself to wear the nicest socks. Precisely why am I saving those socks? Do I, in fact, not believe that I am deserving of those socks? She has likely lost her mind, she is talking about falling into metaphorical ponds and spends a paragraph talking about socks.
The point I’m trying to make is that these illusions can be tucked away inside very mundane things, and this makes them all the more difficult to notice, or even suspect. Revelation can come swiftly: ‘Oh—I have not worn this pair of woollen socks in four years ergo my entire life may not be what I need’. It probably won’t be socks, but what I’m asking is—what are you keeping from yourself? What are you categorising as ‘too good for these imperfect moments’ or ‘saving for a nameless day’? How large is the chasm between your believing and your living? Is that chasm filled with your ‘nice’ socks?
(I’m very much still working on solving my own illusions because this morning I put on a pair of unremarkable socks.)
WORK-RELATED NEWS:
The manuscript for Everything, Beautiful is now being initial-edited which is a relief because I feel I can sit down for fifteen minutes (more illusions). Prior to submitting that manuscript I also completed all of the hand lettering for the Italian and German editions of Close Again, and height-of-excitement because the head and tail bands for the small book were decided upon during May, which might have been one of the last decisions before its publication in the autumn. (Head and tail bands are those cotton-y strips on hardback books at the top and bottom of the spine, where all of the pages meet each other—for Close Again these will be an olive-ish green.)
Between now and September I will illustrate 208 book pages, and also channel some time into two more projects for Orion magazine. I will be like a river delta seen from the air. I will also try to figure out if I need to pull myself together more because at present I feel very strewn, but it might be that I actually just need to allow even more flinging.
THIS WEEK I FELL IN LOVE WITH:
Work by photographer Federico Clavarino.
Library update:
1 book to return (Rachel Cusk)
7 books on hold (all Rachel Cusk)
(The library was closed today and I couldn’t know this until the door didn’t open when I pushed it; a great sadness.)
The end.
“The piling up of tasks
The piling up of large questions
The pain that comes with noticing the entire world”
I have thought about these lines many times over the past few days, and they have helped me explain my worries to myself and to my best friend. I also relate very much to the saving of special socks. You managed to capture that strange behavior perfectly. Thank you for taking the time out of your very hectic days to write this newsletter. I wish you some calm amongst piles of paper and thoughts and days going by.
I have a whole wardrobe of clothes that I have been saving for a 'special day' and these are perfectly everyday type clothes, yet somehow it is tough to steer away from the two sets of old clothes I rinse and repeat. Your analogy of socks is very accurate. It is the point which we pass everyday and on that point, each day, the choice we make also makes our illusion.
Loved to read this, thank you for the effort you put in this. :)