This is literally everything I watched, read and listened to in August.

I wolfed down ’s incredible addiction memoir How To Murder Your Life — how someone who went through so much psychologically and was able to write such a truthy, bouncy and fun book about pill-popping is high-key inspirational. That bitch can write, she has a voice. I love her. I plowed through Lipstick Jungle after that, which is like barely a book, more like reading a TV show, but I enjoyed it too.

I also revisited the book An Honest Woman by Charlotte Shane, which is about love and sex work. It’s one of the most tightly and thoughtfully written books I’ve read in the last few years. I loved this passage:

Though I’m not quite an adventurous person, I crave certain types of excitement: strong emotion; intense relationships; the acquisition of secrets; edification, insight, and the opportunity to obtain it through close observation of others. When I started puberty, these budding proclivities expressed themselves to me as horniness, curiosity, and a formless longing. I just have this big overpowering wanting in me, I wrote in my journal, some sort of desire for something I feel like I’m never going to find. I couldn’t understand what I wanted when so much was outside my realm of experience, but I was restless from the call.

I also listened to a book called Change Me Prayers by Tosha Silver, who remains one of my favorite writers on spirituality and god, simply because she’s so lighthearted and makes having a personal relationship with the divine seem obvious and not stupid.

I’m still thinking about Marfa, just in general. Obviously I wrote about that two weeks ago, but what I didn’t really touch on is just how difficult it is to do nothing. That said, there’s almost nothing better for your body, mind and spirit to do than unplug completely. I feel more clear, and more joyful, after a true week of taking actual time away from my regular life.

This Bjork song.

This Hovvdy song. — This is my favorite working band. I love this album so far, I listened to it while writing this, heartfelt, always tasteful. And they’ve been at it for so long. I don’t know, it feels rare that music feels MALE to me in a way that’s sort of beautiful and sensitive without being indulgent. One of their best — I like the songs Starry and Wannabe a lot too.

This Chiffons song.

This Natalie Merchant song covering The Chiffons song.

I’m also very excited to listen to the new L’Rain record, but haven’t yet.

My family friend, wrote a very beautiful essay about his brother that I absolutely loved. You can read it here. Bob will be in ~~~ fabulous person ~~~~ soon.

Also been reading everything from , impossible NOT to love. She did a fabulous person interview here — she’s such a good writer, and I particularly like how she writes about her work. I like reading people processing their life AS they live it. Excellent.

A few food-related things: I ate at Bordo and couldn’t stop talking about it for days. Probably the best thing I’ve eaten all year.

I made this soup for Miriam and her new baby from this Alison Roman recipe that my little brother said had been on heavy rotation for him. Say whatever you want about Alison Roman, but she’s the real thing. I saw her once walking on the street in New York. She had red lipstick on and walked with purpose, we made eye contact and I didn’t say hello even though I wanted to. She looked busy. The soup is tangy and full of dill.

We got back into making ice cream this month. Almost immediately, the ancient ice cream maker that had been collecting dust in the garage broke the second time we tried to use it. My mom ordered this attachment for the KitchenAid mixer, which requires no rock salt or ice, and freezes the ice cream in under an hour. Even though it is very easy, part of me misses the fuss of buying rock salt and hearing that fucker churn. Can’t have it all. However, I think the ease of use here is actually life-changing and warrants telling you about.

Jen showed me and Ari The Fifth Element, which I’d never seen. I fell asleep halfway through which I loved, because falling asleep during a movie with other people is the safest feeling of all. So I don’t remember most of the plot, what I did see I loved. We also watched Practical Magic, which is a perfect movie, as well as the thriller crime show Maximum Pleasure Guaranteed on Apple TV… I try not to watch television because I get SUCKED IN and have to know what happens, and then hours and days are lost FINDING OUT what happens. But I did really enjoy it, even though I think it’s likely the reason I had night terrors two nights in a row (cute!)

I also watched a movie that Charli xcx referenced recently in a TikTok, called Unzipped about designer Isaac Mizrahi preparing for his 1994 show. The colors are so beautiful, and he’s got a huge personality, so it’s just incredibly fun. Photos from the 90s are shared online so often, somehow I forget that these are/were real people, making real things, that none of this is ancient history, even though the world has changed so much. Also a good reminder of how challenging and rewarding creative endeavors always are, no matter how necessary or unnecessary they might seem.

I also watched Marc Duplass’ movie The Puffy Chair, an early mumblecore movie. I think I remembered who Marc Duplass even is because of this article in the New York Times about his relationship with his wife being crazy codependent, which I honestly thought was cute. Duplass and a couple other legacy filmmakers all spent the 90s in Austin, something I wasn’t aware of until I read more about the film. I think it premiered at SXSW in 2005 or 2006… The feel and vibe of the movie overall reminded me a lot of my ex-fiancé and some of his friends, that early aughts vibe was something else, so stupid and fun. There’s Spoon songs in the soundtrack, you know what I mean? It holds up well and is well-paced. Mostly it reminded me of my own twenties, all of which were spent looking for my own version of The Puffy Chair. It made me want to make a movie, which is probably the point.

I don’t have Netflix, so I wasn’t aware that they just did a remake of the movie My Brilliant Career — which is an Australian classic from the late 80s, and was based off a book of the same name which I also read a long time ago but don’t remember anything about. One of my homeschooled friends really loved this movie, and I have a vivid memory of eating cornbread and beans while watching it at 15 years old… However, it went over my head as a teen — though there is this scene where Judy Davis and Sam Neill hit each other in an extended pillow fight sequence that’s honestly so erotic and still so beautiful that I remembered it almost perfectly fifteen years after initial viewing. Very charming, and it hit home more than I anticipated when I watched it again this weekend. Great acting too.

Occasionally I get the feeling that my taste has stalled out — fortunately, the solution is to simply learn & absorb more. So much to know.

I leave you with a quote from intuitive Laura Day:

“When you know your goal, intuition stops making you crazy and starts finding your opportunity.”

I like that. Anyways.

Until next week.

Love,
Mary

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fabulous person all about the inner lives of generative people.

I love people & love learning how they operate, what their proclivities are, what they do in private, their routines etc., all probably in hopes that their attitudes and interests would in some way inform me about how I could live better.

fabulous person is my answer to this question.

A few weeks ago, I chatted on the phone with Malek Lazri, a self-described fabricator and tool nut who makes internet-famous fleshlights among an array of other unusual objects. I laughed a lot during our conversation & it was so fun to learn more about him and his life. The following interview has been edited for length and clarity.

You can follow Malek here on Instagram.

I don’t really do it for anybody else.

Who are you? Where do you live? What do you make?

My name is Malek. I’m in Nashville essentially. Living in the country. I kind of like it. I like it maybe 25% of the time. I like being in the country again. I lived in LA for quite some time, and I lived in Las Vegas. It’s cool and fun to be back doing country stuff, but it’s just a pretty lonely existence. I was coming here for three months, and then ended up staying for nine. So, it’ll be nine months when I leave [for New York]. Basically, a baby could have been born in the time I lived here.

I like to build things. Maybe I’m a fabricator. I’m a tool nut. I just like tools and what they can do for you. I really like processes.

What’s something that people might not know about your process? Obviously, you make fleshlights. You make all different kinds of things, you make props…

Essentially, at the end of the day, what I’m passionate about is just doing it yourself. Doing it the right way. Like I have a real commitment to — I don’t want to say excellence, but sort of like — the way it should be done, the way it has been done throughout history. I’m very anti-technology in a lot of ways.

Have you always just been somebody who made things? How did you end up in this world?

It’s a good question. My dad is a collector of fine objects across the board — watches and mid-century furniture — but he was never quite a maker. Like he would be like [a] commissioner. I was more interested in actually making things, because we would go and visit the people he would commission, and visit welders, and one of his good friends, this Polish guy, was a stained glass maker, one of the only ones in Texas, and had a super sick studio. So I’d go to all these studios, and I was like, oh I’m trying to be this guy.

What was the first thing you made?

As a kid, I was involved in an inner-city art program downtown in San Antonio, and they have this thing within the program called First Friday. They would have a gallery show at the end, where we were able to sell whatever work we made. And so the first thing I ever made was a biplane out of cut-up Coke cans. And I sold it for like 400 bucks. I was in fifth grade. I was like, damn, $400. This is sick, you know, like this is tight. I quickly found out that art doesn’t really work that way all the time, but it was tight at the time. I was never really interested in the painting thing, you know. Painting, if you want to be an artist, is the way to make money. You’ve got to work extra hard to make it as a sculptor artist.

Through all of this making, and all these different things that you’ve done, how do you stay grounded? I assume you’re working on all these different projects, and sometimes they hit and sometimes I assume they don’t… What pulls you out of a rut, emotionally or physically with your work?

I think what keeps me grounded is that I don’t really do it for anybody else. I mean…I’ve never really like tried to make it a career. You know what I mean? So like if it doesn’t hit, it’s like it doesn’t bother me. I will say this though — the reason I’ve continued to make fleshlights is for the people. So, in a weird way, I do it for other people, but it’s kind of just because they love it so much, like, I can’t rob them of that. As soon as they stop liking it, I’ll stop doing it because I don’t care, you know.

The stuff you’ve made it so joyful in a way, like yes, they’re fleshlights, but they’re so fun, they’re really magical. There was one earlier that I just — I was going through your Instagram, and I was just fucking cackling.

It has to make me laugh as well. I’ll never make something that’s not funny.

Where do these things come from? Are people giving you things that they want to see, or are these just off the cuff for you?

In the past, oh man, people would send me suggestions nonstop. And a lot of times it would be really like sick, sicko suggestions as well. There’s some real perverts out there, I’m blocking, reporting some fools, you know, over the years… What’s funny about that is like, I was the one doing it, right? So it’s funny when somebody sends me a suggestion as if I’m not sitting here, thinking about all the possible options… Nine times out of 10, you send me a suggestion, bruh, I thought about that and how it would go. I do not take suggestions. That’s sort of my one big rule. Never have, never will.

Literally too, because I have sort of a code that keeps it out of the chomo arena, you know, in my opinion… Because we’re toeing the line here, I hate chomos more than anything, let the record show. But almost everything that I work on or take from is from my childhood. You think about Toy Story, that’s from my childhood. You know what I mean? That’s no Frozen. You know what I mean? I’m not making Frozen. I’m not making Moana. You know, that’s not my childhood. That’s for children. But like Aladdin, you’re not gonna tell me that Aladdin is for the kids. Just because it’s still popular isn’t my problem.

Do you have a song or a piece of music that you continually return to?

I’ve gotten in trouble for this in the past, but I don’t really like music all that much, or as much as the next guy. I keep it to a minimum. I use it as a treat. How many Tom, Dick and Harrys are just playing music 24/7. Like, bruh, you’re playing it out buddy… For the most part, I prefer silence. But if I am to listen to something, I mean, sure, I take in all the hits, and I know what’s out there. I’ll listen to things once and be like, “Oh, that was cool. If I am gonna throw on some music, it’s gonna be just straight classical, I have a lot of classical tapes, or like old country if I’m feeling kind of froggy. Like I said, I only kind of listen to tapes, and I reserve them for occasions.

What are you most excited about right now? Like, what’s been bringing you the most pleasure lately?

Right now, I’m building a Slip N Slide at the moment. Building it to the nines. This isn’t your average Slip N Slide. This is a real deal installation. I’m also working on a few fleshlights that I think might be quite, you know, quite tight.

How long does each one take you to make each fleshlight?

Especially like during COVID, when I was unfettered, I would whip one up in a week. But these days I don’t really have a lot of time for it. You know, I wish I did.

List three to five items you can’t live without.

Number one, cannot live without a belt. Unfortunately, I’ve got no ass, and my pants are always saggy. I’m like to the point where I’m trying to get a BBL or something, or like a peptide that grows my ass. I need to keep my pants up, because all day, like 20 times a day, I’m lifting my pants up.

To that point, there’s a thing called like a leather punch, right? And you use it to add holes to your belt. Number two, leather punch. Keep my pants up.

Number three, can’t live without my boots.

Four, can’t live without my truck. I have a 2002 Toyota. When somebody tells me they have a Tacoma. I look at them — you might as well be wearing jeans with sandals. You don’t even have a truck bed at that point, right? The bed’s like a foot deep.

Are you gonna take your truck to New York?

Yeah! I’ve been saying this for a while. You know the trope you see in movies is like “Driving in New York is a nightmare!” It’s almost like, so many people have been convinced of that, that the roads are semi-clear, you know? Everybody thinks it’s not possible. The propaganda has been working for so long that it has actually cleared the streets in a way that it’s like, for the heads. It’s doable. You know? When I first started driving in New York like 10 years ago, I was like, wait a second, this ain’t even bad.

A few weeks ago, I watched a viral video — a man described how in his early twenties he worked at a restaurant. At the end of every shift, every server was required to combine the bottles of ketchup. Without fail, the man’s coworker simply would NOT combine the ketchup bottles, he just wouldn’t do it. The man goes home and bitches to his roommate about the ketchup thing, raging about how the coworker “wasn’t doing his job.” The man’s roommate listened to him complain for a while, until he finally interrupted him and said, “Dude, you need a bigger world.”

You need a bigger world.

I’ve been thinking about this sentiment so much lately — how most often, most of my problems and true errors in life have stemmed from forgetting about the bigger world outside the limits of my regular life. I feel myself experiencing other people, experiencing the environments around me, experiencing myself experiencing all of it, and then forgetting and forgetting some more, until I resurface back into the present.

You need a bigger world.

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Today is Monday, & I just ate most of a slice of Italian cream cake. Lyle Lovett was sitting next to Zoe when I met her at the coffee shop in Westlake. His belt buckle said LYLE in giant gold letters. I would’ve said hello, but it felt rude to bother him when he’d clearly just finished lunch and was obviously with his family. It is stupid hot here right now, and makes me feel like my brain is short circuiting. Am probably dehydrated. I look up “what to do about bad dreams.” Last night I dreamed someone draped sea anemones on the back of my neck and I woke up sweating. I get back on dating apps and immediately delete them. I think about how babies don’t see in color until they’re five months old. My taste feels like it’s really expanding right now, but I’m afraid my abilities can’t keep up. I reluctantly schedule out my week. I write and then delete everything I’ve written today. I feel antagonized and inspired by everything on the internet. I pick at the Italian cream cake. I wish I’d said hi to Lyle Lovett.

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I’ve been deeply disturbed by the horrible, horrible Reggie Watts story from Rolling Stone, which broke over the weekend, thinking about how everything detailed in the article is so sickening — but the story about a woman dissolving completely because of a man feels ancient and painfully familiar. I used to see them out at events in LA. You never really know anyone. Sick.

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Last night, unsettled and unable to sleep, I got out of bed and sat on the porch in the middle of the night with Booboo. The air was warm, but the breeze was cool. Sometimes I swear I can smell autumn before it’s even arrived, it has a different energy. The moon was so bright that all the trees cast dark shadows. Being outside made me feel better. I remembered the bigger world. I thought about a quote from my favorite book as a teenager, from painter Maira Kalman called The Principles of Uncertainty:

How are we all so brave as to take step after step? Day after day? How are we so optimistic, so careful not to trip and yet do trip, and then get up and say O.K. Why do I feel so sorry for everyone and so proud?

Yeah.

Love,
Mary

I wrote this on Saturday.

Out in Marfa for the week with Jen and Ari, working on projects. Even though it’s hot, the air is so dry it feels light on my skin and reminds me of California, which I miss. That’s the problem with California is that it gets under your skin and never lets you go. Here, the country is so flat that you can see for miles and miles, you can see the rain in the distance, coming down in soft rectangles until it touches the ground. Mostly it rains here in the afternoon, and burns away by evening.

There are so many hot guys here, just walking around — men who look like they can build and fix things, men who have well-trained ranch dogs that jump up into the cabs of their trucks. Ugh. This all feels like enough of a rarity to be publicly commented on. We went and got sandwiches at Bordo — honestly one of the best sandwiches I’ve ever had in my life?? Maybe the best salad I’ve ever had in my life? They bake the sesame-crusted bread right there, in a wood-burning oven, and it’s chewy and the mortadella sandwich has a snowy shower of Parmesan and crushed pistachios on top… We went back again today to eat, and it was even better than yesterday. Floored. Everyone working there was so fucking sexy, and it reminded me how rare it is to see fucking sexy people just out in the wild — baking bread, having perfect forearms. I was telling Ari too loudly about my gut problems before announcing to the guy running the cash register that yes I would like a peach Bellini or spritz or whatever and then it occurred to me that this is not endearing or attractive behavior. Obtuse obtuse obtuse.

I had a feeling about a month ago that I needed to be out here — I wanted to stay for a month, but now we’re here for the week, which must be enough. I sunbathe naked in the backyard and think about how one time on mushrooms I acutely understood sun codes and how that knowledge has never left me. I think about the last time I really tripped mushrooms, which was a few years ago with JM. He got all annoyed with me because I started freaking out about Ariana Grande and celebrities and bodies, and he wanted to know why I couldn’t just have a spiritual experience instead of talking about eating disorders — but look at the dialogue and the world now! It really was a download from beyond, not that it matters because I have nothing to say that hasn’t already been said, other than that I swear I had a premonition of what was to come culturally. We were at a Pixies show in Portland that night, and for some reason we missed Cat Power as the opener, which I was unhappy about. Portland was shocking to me in its lushness and green green green beauty. There are so many apples there, people just let them fall to the ground. That all feels comfortingly distant now. The years pass, and then they don’t stop passing. The spiritual teacher whose books I read talks about how chapters of your life are like movies, and then sometimes there are gaps between the movies. I am in the gap.

We drank Lambrusco last night, and I woke up sort of feeling startled, and my stomach felt off. Walked to the coffee shop got a coffee. There was a big cowboy guy standing there, with yellow boots and a pistol in a holster attached to his belt, watching me. I fucking hate open carry. I walked elsewhere and got a taco, called Zoe, and she picked up even though it was 8am, and I gave her the same microscopic updates about my life that I usually give her. Most of our conversations begin with me going “I thought about XXXX,” and her going “Oooh why do you think that is??” And then we psychoanalyze my microscopic thought, a process which will repeat ad nauseam into infinity until I find someone or something new to hyper-fixate on. While we talked, I fantasized about having a simpler and different life out here. A life where there is room to breathe and think, where I can eat flawless mortadella sandwiches showered in parmesan whenever I want. I could be someone different in the desert. I wonder if that’s what I want.

Being out here feels like wiping the windowpane of my brain, which is good. I like that writing keeps my antennae tuned to life — but I often wonder if it’s even worth it or worthwhile. But the fact that I like doing it, is a good enough reason to keep doing it. I like that I’m capable of output, that it ensures chronology and occasional bursts of internal excitement, even though I find being publicly sincere weird. I very badly want to know what comes next in my life, even though I know that mostly what this demands is just deciding. I walk around and look out at the sky, enjoying how quiet it is, thinking about how being in untouched nature is one of the luckiest things. I notice the animals: dozens of small quail, finches, sparrows, a tarantula slowly crossing the highway, a great horned owl, a tiny agile bunny. I feel the fragility and grandeur. I think about the pure evil happening right now in Big Bend — you can sign the petition here. Sometimes, two mating hummingbirds zoom by us, and you can hear their wings vibrating for seconds, even after they’ve flown away. When the sun sets here, it’s giant and spectacular, more giant and more spectacular than normal. We sit in a stock tank filled with water in the backyard, and I feel the sun heating up my skin, making me sweat. Ari tells me that the sun is actually considered an ordinary star. This shocks and delights me. Jen reads us a page from the last book written by Lebanese painter and poet Etel Adnan:

“The thing left to do is to be willing to go to the end of just anything, like burning your eyes, metaphorically and physically, by staring long enough at the sun, like when you were a child… and tears were running down. Those were moments transcending.”

My new column: fabulous person all about the inner lives of generative people.

I love people and I love learning how they operate, what their proclivities are, what they do in private, their routines etc., all probably in hopes that their attitudes and interests would in some way inform me about how I could live better.

fabulous person is my selfish answer to this question.

is a musician. She’s also the founder of an online music discovery platform called turntable and runs the popular Substack Record Store.

You can follow her on Instagram, read her Substack or check out her Spotify.

I own every bell that tolls me.

Who are you, where do you live, and what do you do/what do you make?

My name is Amaya and I live in the Bay Area. I’m the writer of the music newsletter Record Store, the lead singer of the band Bike Lane, and the founder of the music community and curation platform turntable.

What’s something about your working or creative process that most people don’t know about?

I think a lot of people come across my work as a curator without knowing I’m a musician or vice versa. I think they probably also assume that these practices are completely separate but in reality I think my curatorial work completely informs what I write for Bike Lane and vice versa--not to mention how all this experience really shapes how I’m thinking about turntable as a platform and community space.

What helps you to stay grounded emotionally in your work/life? What pulls you out of a rut (emotionally/work/life)?

Being outside and exercising. I think I’m kind of like a big dog--I need to be exercised to be normal. Also driving around listening to music in my car; my car is my safe space (her name is Stella).

What’s your guiding light, philosophy or principle for living?

There’s a Neko Case lyric that I love that goes, I own every bell that tolls me. either that or not my circus, not my monkeys.

What’s a song or piece of music you continually return to?

Radio Cure by Wilco

Tell me about a lesson you’ve learned in the past year.

Patience! The universe has continually been trying to teach me patience. I really want turntable to get funded NOW, I want the album to come out NOW, I want to figure it all out now. but the process is so valuable and my work is so much better for the time it takes. I’m learning a lot through patience.

What are you most excited about or obsessed with right now? What brings you the most pleasure lately?

I’m obsessed with sheer articles of clothing used as layering pieces. I’m obsessed with Jeep by Kim Petras. I’m obsessed with my own coffee setup--it brings me such joy to nail a routine.

List three to five items you can’t live without.

My laptop (can’t do anything on the phone), an ecoquoa A6 notebook (unlined), Refy brow gel, my milk frother (back to the coffee routine), wired headphones

Until next week —

mary

🪷

As a teenager, I loved dancing and also cooking. I was homeschooled, and in many ways, looking back, was a very private teenager. I didn’t have many friends, most of my time was spent alone. I was obsessed with ballet and jazz. I rented Ingmar Bergman movies from the library and watched them in my room. I played piano. I was obsessed with niche food writers like Jeffrey Steingarten and MFK Fisher. I liked reading about parties and weddings in New York City, in the New York Times. I don’t know why I liked any of this. Looking back, I occasionally wonder how I might have been different if I’d had a more normal coming of age. Not going to regular school imbued me with a sincere distrust of authority, an overwhelming desire to party and belong, and also a recurrent feeling that I was destined to always be an observer, rather than a participant in my life — a sensation that thankfully faded (mostly.) That said, I still find myself returning to, or referencing things I absorbed between the ages of 14 and 18 — especially when it comes to food and restaurants and recipes. I don’t know how to articulate this, beyond the feeling that I know enough to know better. When I was in Mexico last year, I felt almost spiritually relieved — like things tasted the way they were supposed to taste, things tasted more. I’m not a snob or a purist — I eat grocery store sushi and hot dogs. But I’m convinced I know when things are actually good, which is separate from the optics of eating and drinking at chic and boring restaurants with small plates and biodynamic wine (I ONLY like this kind of thing when someone else is buying, unless the vibe is immaculate. I’m not paying to leave hungry bitch!!!) I’ll never forget the advice of a friend from college — “eat where the old people eat and drink where the young people drink” — a maxim I mostly abide by and still think about all the time.

I recently read New York City restauranteur Keith McNally’s memoir — I Regret Almost Everything, which I enjoyed. I most appreciated the way he thought about putting a restaurant together — he couldn’t even cook, but is the maestro of vibe:

After spending over forty years in the business, I still don’t know what makes a restaurant successful. I know what makes one successful to me though. It’s a restaurant that’s conducive to engagement, where the customer can fully connect with their dinner companion. I’d rather eat mediocre food in an all-night diner and forge a connection with the person I’m with than eat in a four-star restaurant and have nothing to say to my companion…. When building restaurants I always make them on the small side. In general, I can’t bear large tables, specifically two-tops. There’s nothing less intimate than sitting thirty inches or more from the person opposite. All my tables for two are twenty-six inches long by twenty-four inches wide.

I was thrilled that his ideas about table dimensions exactly confirmed my exact feelings on the issue. The sexiest restaurants only have teeny weeny tables, everyone loves sitting at these, likes the excuse to sit close and pushed together. We don’t touch each other enough. I also liked this —

If often said that a near-death experience puts things into perspective. After my stroke, the only perspective I had was the certainty of not having one.
When you’re sick, everyone bangs on about the importance of family, yet it was work, not family, that pulled me out of my despair. During a personal crisis, the importance of work is often undervalued. “Take time off work,” people typically say when someone’s depressed. My advice would be to work more, not less. When all else seems lost, work—of any kind—provides the one thing we need to keep going: a sense of purpose.

The larger point today is that I’m sharing with you my most treasured pie recipe, one that I loved when I was sixteen, fortunately it stands the test of time. I recently watched a TikTok where the girl was like — “it is our duty on earth to eat fruit, because god literally made fruit delicious and abundant and ready to eat, you don’t even have to do anything to prepare it — eating fruit is real abundance.” Oddly this mirrored a thought I had at the beginning of my #healingjourney, when my therapist asked me what I could do to make myself feel better, and I surprised myself by announcing that I needed to eat a lot of fruit. So there you go.

We had a surplus of summer blueberries and peaches, so I made a blueberry and peach pie last week — a true earthly pleasure. I hope you love it too.

Love,

Mary

Blueberry Pie

from Dorie Greenspan’s Baking: From My Home To Yours

Tart! Perfect! Infinitely satisfying. You can add peaches.

2 1/2 pints fresh blueberries

1 cup sugar, or a little more for dusting

1/2 cup all-purpose flour

pinch of salt

coarsely grated zest of 1/2 lemon

squirt of fresh lemon juice

1 large egg, beaten with 1 teaspoon water (for egg wash)

Getting Ready:

Butter a 9-inch pie plate (Dorie uses a standard Pyrex pie plate).

Working on a well-floured surface (or between wax paper or plastic wrap), roll out one piece of the dough to a thickness of about 1/8 – inch. Fit the dough onto the buttered pie plate and trim the edges to a ½ inch overhang. Roll the other piece of dough into a 1/8 inch thick circle and place it on a baking sheet lined with parchment or a silicone mat. Cover both the circle and the pie plate with plastic wrap and refrigerate while you pre-heat the oven and prepare the filling.

Getting Ready to Bake:

Position a rack in the lower third of the oven and pre-heat the oven to 425 degrees F.

Put the berries in a large bowl and gently stir in the sugar, flour, salt, zest and juice; let sit for about 5 minutes. Taste the filling and add more sugar and/or lemon juice, if needed.

Remove the pie shell and top crust from the refrigerator. Sprinkle an even layer of the breadcrumbs over the bottom of the shell. Give the filling a last stir, and turn it into the crust.

Using your fingertips, moisten the rim of the bottom crust with a little cold water. Center the top crust over the filling and gently press the top crust against the bottom. Either fold the overhang from the top crust under the bottom crust and crimp the edges attractively or press the top crust against the bottom crust and trim the overhang from both crusts even with the rim of the pie plate. If you’ve pressed and trimmed the crust, use the tines of a fork to press the two crusts together securely. Using a small, sharp knife, cut 4 slits in the top crust crust and cut a circle out of the center, then lift the plate onto the baking sheet. (If you have time, refrigerate the pie for about 30 minutes. The pie can also be wrapped airtight and frozen for up to 2 months. Glaze and sugar it before you put it in the over and add at least 15 minutes to the baking time).

Brush the top crust with the egg wash, then sprinkle the crust with a little sugar, just to give it sparkle.

Bake the pie for 30 minutes. Reduce oven temperature to 375 degrees F, and bake the pie for another 30 minutes or so (total baking time is about an hour) or until the crust is a beautiful golden brown and the filling is bubbling up through the slits. If the crust seems to be browning too quickly, make a loose foil tent for the pie.

Transfer the pie to a rack and let it cool and settle for at least 30 minutes before serving.

Pie Crust

Basic Pie Crust from BAKED → This is probably the single most used, most important recipe maybe in my life? This crust is sturdy and holds up well, very earnestly, it’s fail-proof. I will never stray :)

1 cup (2 sticks) butter

3 cups flour

1 Tablespoon sugar

1 teaspoon salt

3/4 cup water

In a food processor whirl together the flour, sugar and salt. Cut the VERY COLD BUTTER into small pieces and blend until the mixture forms into pea-sized chunks. Dribble in water and whirl until dough just comes together.

Take dough out of processor and knead until dough comes together. Divide into two, wrap in plastic wrap and place in freezer for one hour before using.

🪷

fabulous person is all about the inner lives of generative people.

I love people & I love learning how they operate, what their proclivities are, what they do in private, their routines etc., all probably in hopes that their attitudes and interests would in some way inform me about how I could live better. fabulous person attempts to answer this question.

David Garza is a legendary Grammy-winning artist, songwriter and producer from Texas. In addition to the 28 records he’s released on his own, he’s produced acts like Fiona Apple, Midland, John C. Reilly and many more, and worked with a laundry list of icons that you can read about here. He graciously agreed to an interview over the phone last week. I’m honored that he took the time to speak with me.

You can listen to his music on Spotify, follow him on Instagram or check out his website here.

I’m curious about your relationship with spirituality and even with God? Many people you’ve collaborated with describe you as a musical shaman or someone who helps the artists get in touch with their own inner child. In a very day-to-day way, how do you stay tuned in to yourself and the world?

David: I mean, anybody that plays a monophonic instrument can know what I’m talking about, by monophonic, I’m talking like a saxophone or a trumpet, you know, not a piano or a guitar — something that can only make one note at a time. Because we’re all, in a weird way, monophonic — we only have ourselves. And that’s why we people look for drugs or alcohol or addictions, little shortcuts, to create polyphony in ourselves: “Oh, if I drink this whiskey or whatever, then whiskey is with me, and then I’m not alone.” That’s why they call it drinking spirits. You’re literally drinking it, drinking in something. And you have to just believe in the magic of one-of-one. You have to… because that’s all it is, you know? There’s a holy text that says where two or more, I gather in my name, there am I in your midst. To me, two or more notes — that’s music, that’s harmony. That’s the beauty of collaboration.

I try to be whole. A whole person. A whole not divided. So that when you look at me, I may just be a banjo. I’m not like a fancy banjo. I’m not like a banjo with a pickup or a wah-wah pedal. You just know what you’re getting. I’m just what I am. And that’s the problem with all the thousands of influences pervading our brains. It just keeps us doubting and doubting and wandering and doubting and FOMOing and wondering and second-guessing…

You are enough, and you are weird enough, just as you are. Just as you are. It’s just that we’re so used to ourselves that we forget how weird we are… The spirituality thing… I believe in music, and I believe in art, and I believe in harmony and dissonance, and all those things are found in music. The crazy thing about the mechanization of so much music is that all these plug-ins, and all this stuff was just made by people who love music as much as we do. They’re made by people. I try to let other people use that stuff. I don’t even know how to push a space bar. I don’t work in that world. I’m a different generation, a different world. My faith is in my hands and my voice.

What’s one thing that you’ve learned in the past year?

David: You have to generate magic of your own accord, of your own making. You have to conjure. You have to get dirt under your nails, to get the smoke in your eyes. You can’t expect somebody else to do it for you. You can’t hire someone, you know, a publicist, to create smoke for you, and fire for you. It has to be lived. I think I realized this more and more this year. And that includes joy. You have to generate joy. You can’t wait for anything that makes you happy. It sounds like such dumb advice, you know, or dumb realizations, but, you know, I’m 55 years old. I mean, it took a lot of years to gain this stuff. I’m just as guilty as the next guy.

You know, I write hundreds of songs, and I’m like, why? Why do anything? When I’ve done so many? And I don’t have any #1 songs. But they’re all hits to me, you know. You know, like I say, I’m, I’ve never been a million seller, but I’ve had a million hits. Every time I strum and sing, it’s a hit to me. You know, stars are in the sky 24 hours a day. We just don’t see the ones in the daytime because the light of the sun is blocking them out. It’s the interference. And sometimes we are in the wrong sky. And we are stars. You’re a star. I’m a star. We just… the sky is not right for us. And we have to move into a different sky that will contrast and let our light shine. That’s why I say to collaborate with people, because every person you collaborate with is a different sky.

Is there a single person or artist or producer or non-musician who touched you in such a way that it changed the way you worked from that point on?

David: I mean I’d have to say my wife. She’s it.

They’re all hits to me.

-david

See you next week.

Best,

Mary

Saturday, August 1st was the 3 year anniversary of my house burning down and my life changed overnight. I think I’m (mostly) done talking about that, but I’ve been reflecting a lot on what I wish I’d known then about navigating so much change, so quickly.

For the entire year that followed this, I was so busted… I was grieving and also dealing with what I now think was just straight-up burnout, which was a different experience than depression. I’d been depressed before, but grief is a different thing, a different inner landscape. I was on a quest to feel better. Feeling better, when you feel very bad, is extremely time consuming and can easily morph into seeking truly unproductive distractions from suffering, or into a general rootlessness, malaise and ambivalence that’s really hard to shake. At the time, being anxious about the future felt productive, but looking back I mostly wish I’d been kinder to myself. I felt so much shame — convinced that I had ruined everything, convinced that everyone else was smart, but somehow I was stupid, convinced that everyone else knew how to live and be grown & that I did not, that everyone made better choices than me, if only I had known better, if only I had chosen a better partner, if only the house hadn’t burnt down, if only I’d taken that job more seriously, if only I’d said no, if only the relationship wasn’t a failure, if only I hadn’t been weak…

But this is how life is sometimes — this is how a person learns.

Most of us, unfortunately, suffer at some point and in different ways. Especially in the last few months, I’ve had a lot of conversations with people about navigating change, and how hard it is, even when the change is wanted and positive. I’m often surprised by the complexity of emotion people have around living out culturally applauded events like new love, weddings, babies, or better employment. Stasis and the comfort of the known are a hell of a drug — it takes so much courage to be new, to begin again, to try something different. Even when you’re ready for it, it’s still scary.

Two revelations about navigating change came to me last week, and I wanted to share them with you, since I think these ideas might have helped me three years ago, and are helping me now:

The Floor

In a moment of existential dread last week, I booked a session with a coach I found on TikTok (I know, leave me alone.) And the best thing he said was that “to create momentum that moves the needle of your life forward,” you need to “establish your Floor,” i.e. 3 to 5 daily actions that you repeat and do not deviate from. In working with creative clients, he said that most often this is 1 marketing action, 1 creative action, 1 spiritual and 1 physical activity that keeps you grounded. Instead of always aiming to achieve MORE in a day, you strive for consistency and self trust, which over time amounts to a drastically improved life. He said you need to commit to and stick with a strategy for months at a time. I like The Floor methodology a lot.

The Frame

About a year after the fire, Anna told me that she thought it was likely that I would need two years before I felt fully normal, and she was very right. This known demarcation of time was helpful, it gave me something to measure my inner progress against. You need to talk to people who are going through or have gone through experiences similar to your own.

I wish I’d known about putting frames around chapters of time. There’s a lot of stuff online about changing your life in a week or a month, but looking back I wish I’d pushed myself to consider sustaining the daily actions over three or six months — and labeling those chunks of time so I could have given more grace for how long it takes to heal, so that I could have seen gradual improvement in some areas of my life, or acquired skills in a way that felt both low pressure and also aligned.

In the past few years, this idea has grown in popularity — The 12 Week Year! Winter Arc! 75 Hard! — often these chunks of time are oriented around body or career goals, but I like the idea of naming the next chapter of your life so that you can align “The Floor” with “The Frame,” not necessarily even for what you want to accomplish, but how you would like the chapter to feel. This summer I’ve been Texasmaxxing, which mostly means that I’ve been on boats and gone swimming in the river and grilled, this has been my Frame. Even when I was simply enjoying myself, I felt on track, in agreement with my life. It’s made ordinary things feel more special, it’s helped me make decisions more quickly.

We’re only able to see in the rearview, of course, but I wish, especially in the first six months after the fire, that I’d told myself that I was in my “Healing Era” (lol) and decided on how long I would give myself to take a beat before I decided what to do next. My fear and inability to think clearly about the future tormented me. The reality was that I just wasn’t ready. Having lost so many dreams, I couldn’t conceive of new ones. It took actually living life to begin to dream again. I wish I’d taken my foot off the gas, I wish I’d stopped wondering when I’d “bounce back.” It happened eventually — it’s still happening(!), but now I wonder if naming the container might have helped, or eased how much stress and sorrow I privately harbored.

🪷

Occasionally, I still touch the emotional scar tissue from that time, surprised by the things that still make me sensitive, though I am filled with gratitude for my life now. It’s hard not to regret time spent being unhappy. Maybe there are things that you just never fully recover from. The wound heals, but it changes you, and that’s kind of beautiful. I like it when people say, “I’m the summation of everyone I have ever loved.” It really is true, and it makes the months and years feel less like a waste and more like a story. The coach talked to me a lot about the idea of “self-authorship,” which I liked. Conceptually, the idea of self-authorship makes the project of adulthood feel more manageable, like something you can organize, as opposed to something you must grapple with.

On Saturday, when I had a pang of sadness about the last few years, I remembered that above all, the goal isn’t to be happy, the goal is to experience life in its fullness. When this is my measurement, I feel better, I feel lifted, I feel like a success.

Wishing you all the best. I’m so glad it’s August — one of my favorite months, always a month for things happening. Feeling lucky.

Love,

Mary

fabulous person all about the inner lives of generative people.

I love people and I love learning how they operate, what their proclivities are, what they do in private, their routines etc., all probably in hopes that their attitudes and interests would in some way inform me about how to live better. fabulous person is my selfish answer to this question.

I met on LinkedIn. Lu is a former Miss USA winner. She then went on to work as a news anchor at KTLA for many years. She’s a six-time Emmy Award winning journalist and has covered everything from major political events to natural disasters. Over the course of her career, Lu has interviewed authors, musicians, politicians, and celebrities — including Kendrick Lamar, Larry King, Matt Damon, and Aretha Franklin, to name just a few. We finally met in real life in May when I was in Los Angeles, and hit it off. Lu emits an innate warmth and light. I just loved her, and hope you will too.

You can follow Lu on Instagram, or read her Substack Her Voice Rising here.

A career will never love you, so chase it with caution rather than with reckless abandonment.

-Lu Parker

Who are you, where do you live, and what do you do/what do you make?

Hi. My name is Lu Parker and I live in Los Angeles, CA. What do I do/make? That’s a big question. For the last three decades I have been a television news anchor. I am so used to identifying myself that way, that it’s a bit strange to write here that I no longer work in news.

Instead, I am spending time finding what makes my soul come alive. I’ve been writing on Substack, speaking about transitions and finding your voice on stages and spending time reflecting on what my next chapter will look like. It’s been a blessing to slow down and have time to really get to know myself again.

What’s something about your working or creative process that most people don’t know about?

When I am working on a project or a piece of writing, I love the house to be quiet. No tv. No music. Sometimes there are occasional sounds of my dog snoring — my favorite sound.

What helps you to stay grounded emotionally in your work/life? What pulls you out of a rut (emotionally/work/life)?

I am learning to feel my feelings when they show up but not to dwell too long. I also turn to nature when I need to clear my head. I often take my dog Moose on a hike here in LA. Walking on a dirt path with trees surrounding me calms my nervous system. Breathwork has also become a saving grace in my life. It’s healing and allows your body to process emotions/memories that may be stuck. I highly recommend it.

What’s your guiding light, philosophy or principle for living?

I love this song lyric by the Grateful Dead: “Sometimes we live no particular way but our own.” I believe that the words speak to living authentically- following your own path rather than someone else’s expectations. It is something I continue to work on.

What’s a song or piece of music you continually return to?

Lately I am loving singer/artist Kelly Boesch. Her single “Not Made for the Cage” is everything for me right now.

Tell me about a lesson you’ve learned in the past year.

I have learned many lessons lately-
~Realizing a career will never love you, so chase it with caution rather than with reckless abandonment
~There is magic in letting yourself be still
~People can only meet you as deeply as they’ve met themselves

What are you most excited about or obsessed with right now? What brings you the most pleasure lately?

I am obsessed with deep meaningful conversations and speaking my truth.
And this piece of art by Catherine Dzialo Haller brings me pleasure - It’s called “Leaning of a ‘57 Chevy.” I am thinking of buying it because it reminds me that women in the 50s, 60s and even 70s were not afforded the same rights that we have today. We can choose to work in a career, have a family and/or both. I often think of the women like the one in the painting holding a camera wanting to be a professional artist but likely wasn’t allowed to be. That thought reminds me to stay in a place of gratitude.

List three to five items you can’t live without.

Face serum, my morning protein shake, books, coffee with oat milk...

Anything else you want to share? Upcoming projects/releases/shows/events etc.

For upcoming projects, I hope to write a book one day. Meanwhile, I’m putting words to paper on my Substack Her Voice Rising — hope if you are reading this, you can join me there. xoxo

Until next week…

Love,

Mary

But back to damselflies.

There were so many mating damselflies everywhere, on every surface, floating over the water, flying around haphazardly. Hornyass kinkyass damselflies, the male damselfly GRIPS the female damselflies’ NECK (like a lock in a key, said the video we watched about it later on YouTube) and then they fly around like that for a while. Evidently they’re the only insects that fly in tandem. When they finally have sex, their bodies form the shape of a heart. During mating, the male damselfly’s dick scoops out the semen of all of the other male damselflies the girl damselfly fucked that day, and then he inseminates her, and the girl damselfly lays hundreds of eggs before they both do it all over again.

Later, the same video talked about dragonflies, which are some of the oldest creatures on earth, hundreds of millions of years old, apparently the side effect of having perfect bodies, something the documentary said over and over again. Now, every time I see a dragonfly, which is actually quite a lot, I think to myself perfect body perfect body perfect body.

Nature is so freaky.

I’m into The Cardigans and The Sundays right now, and this bizarre record from the early aughts, from a literal slumber party of eleven-year-olds who had an arty mom who set their freaky songs to electronic music. They called the band they made, X-cetera… all of this feels like the subject of a Sophia Coppola movie. Anyways, a few copies of the record they made were distributed as CDs, which then went viral during the pandemic. The whole album was re-released by Numero Group in 2023, and I learned about this just now.

I recently did a session with a career coach, who asked me what I write about on Substack. I tried to explain the reiki and the eyes of the flower, how he didn’t get it and I realized I should have just said that I “write about pleasure.” The call was only an hour, and it was expensive, and he didn’t smile once, nor did he fall for my usual tricks to make him smile. I don’t know why this bothered me so much, I guess he just seemed a little strung out. In the moment, even though his points about my work were valid, I realized I would do almost nothing he suggested. People either get it or they don’t. I could tell he thought I was being ridiculous — and I didn’t mind. In the days since I spoke to him, when I worry about my career, or the other things I’m making, I return to the river in my mind, and think about the thousands of procreating damselflies forming sex hearts. I think about dragonflies with perfect bodies. I think about laying in the clear green water in the river, how nothing seemed that urgent or important when I did. I think about how things always change around this time of year.

As we tilt into August, the real heart of summer, I’m preparing for everything to move and shift again. I hope you like the playlist, really trying to not overthink it.

Love,

Mary

Subscribe now

My new column: fabulous person all about the inner lives of generative people.

I love people and I love learning how they operate, what their proclivities are, what they do in private, their routines etc., all probably in hopes that their attitudes and interests would in some way inform me about how I could live better.

My guest today is who I found via her wonderful Substack, Oyster Roast. Shortie is a textile artist with a range of items for sale here, I covet her dresses. She also runs a biannual arts magazine out of Atlanta called Shortie Country.
You can follow her on Instagram and Substack, or check out her website.

“I spent most of my early life being pathologized or medicalized for my emotions, and felt myself that there was something uncontrollable within me. I carry an intrinsic belief that emotions are like fevers you sweat out so the emotion is “performed” in our lives, in positive and not positive ways. I live for the height of the feeling, but to get it down accurately you need to be meticulous. I keep detailed diaries and mine from them like a script.”

- shortie

Who are you, where do you live, and what do you do/what do you make?

Shortie, Atlanta, GA. I am a textile artist. I make feelings you can wear. I also edit the magazine Shortie Country.

What’s something about your working or creative process that most people don’t know about?

I am specifically interested in histrionics. I spent most of my early life being pathologized or medicalized for my emotions, and felt myself that there was something uncontrollable within me. I carry an intrinsic belief that emotions are like fevers you sweat out so the emotion is “performed” in our lives, in positive and not positive ways. I live for the height of the feeling, but to get it down accurately you need to be meticulous. I keep detailed diaries and mine from them like a script. There is an element of humiliation to the work, but I acknowledge that. I have people talk to me about how embarrassing it might be to post the work I make, and that’s just a self-read because I don’t feel that, lol. Or, at least, I can handle it. We have this weird cultural thing about not being a real emotion haver and I’m like “I will cry if I can’t suck your dick again,” and it’s like, that is a FUN way to LIVE.

What helps you to stay grounded emotionally in your work/life? What pulls you out of a rut (emotionally/work/life)?

I am soooo bougie and it is what it is. Nothing gets my digestive system (the power house of the emotional body) right like a night out in a great outfit, lots of cocktails, and a lot of laughing. I need that on the reg. I get a massage at Ritual Bodywork in Grant Park and turn into a beautiful baby. I like my morning passionfruit matcha. Pilates also is a necessity for my mood. Pilates treats my body and mind like a rubix cube, like a problem to solve, and I really need puzzles.

What’s your guiding light, philosophy or principle for living?

I turn 30 in a few months and have recently made some life choices where it’s like, I’m really all in on my craft. There is no going back. It’s all for the art, it’s all in the art, and I’m ten toes down on that.

What’s a song or piece of music you continually return to?

50 Cent’s album Get Rich or Die Tryin. I only knew about it because of a boy when I was like, 14 years old but I took that album and made it mine. Nothing feels like my flavor heartbreak and success. Many Men and If I Can’t Do It are lifelines to me.

Tell me about a lesson you’ve learned in the past year.

Limitations are 100% self generated. I have held myself back in so many ways for so long because I was afraid or didn’t think I deserved it, or could have it. It is possible to do the hard thing and once you take the plunge, stuff really does work out.

What are you most excited about or obsessed with right now? What brings you the most pleasure lately?

This year has been so intense and crazy and wild that I feel scared and bold and excited all of the time. The emotions are high. It’s like every time I make one brave decision, I am emboldened to make another. It feels like the sky is the limit in how radically different you make your life. I am excited by information and the information I am gaining just in living on this timeline, I am excited to go to Mexico City in a week and just go to museums and Leonora Carrington’s house. I am excited by demanding everything I want in this life. I feel pleased by the unknown, and I’m head first.

List three to five items you can’t live without.

Pilates, Mark Twain’s Letters from Earth, my diary, oranges, YSL Lash Clash mascara in BLUE

Anything else you want to share? Upcoming projects/releases/shows/events etc.

Check out the third issue of Shortie Country on shortiecountry.xyz

I am excited by demanding everything I want in this life.

-shortie

see you next week.

love,

mary

My new column: fabulous person all about the inner lives of generative people.

I love people and I love learning how they operate, what their proclivities are, what they do in private, their routines etc., all probably in hopes that their attitudes and interests would in some way inform me about how I could live better.

My guest today is Max Bennett Kelly — Max is a musician, actor and writer. He’s made a sitcom, and wrote a novel in addition to releasing his second full length album, True Modern Romance in 2025. I found him on TikTok where he makes funny and insightful videos about being an artist in Los Angeles.

You can find him on Instagram, TikTok & Spotify.

“Everything, good or bad, is a beautiful learning lesson, and sometimes it takes Years & Years to understand the lesson especially when you’re stubborn like me. But by the end of my life I can only hope I’ve painted my canvas with as many of these lessons as I possibly could. Or something.”

- max bennett kelly

Who are you, where do you live, and what do you do/what do you make?

I am Marcello and I have an Artist Project™ where I call myself Max Bennett Kelly. I live in Los Angeles. I started making music now I also act and I also wrote a novel but I am never doing that again.

What’s something about your working or creative process that most people don’t know about?

Until recently, I’ve been making almost everything on my own, whenever possible. I used to take a lot of Pride in this but I’ve come to learn it’s actually a Hindrance. Collaborating requires a lot of Trust & Faith and doing everything on my own has actually shut out a lot of amazing people and limited how good the art can be. So I’m learning to undo that and make art fun and communal again.

What helps you to stay grounded emotionally in your work/life? What pulls you out of a rut (emotionally/work/life)?

Ohh boy. I really struggle to stay grounded. I used to think living an Unstable & Unpredictable lifestyle was necessary for making art, so I got in the bad habit of encouraging the creation of personal chaos, hoping to induce some artistic breakthrough. This worked for a while but I reached Maximum Entropy and everything blew up in my face, so I’m learning now for the first time to ground myself. Lo and behold, I get just as many Good Ideas when there’s peace in my life. So as I rebuild the ground beneath me, I’ve found prioritizing my family, my friends, my dog, and Getting Good Sleep are the bare minimum non-negotiables. Without them I will spiral upwards and write another novel (please let me never write a novel again).

What’s your guiding light, philosophy or principle for living?

I believe your life story is your Big Art Project. When people say Everything Happens For A Reason™, I take that to mean that whatever Happened contributed to the growth of your soul. Everything, good or bad, is a beautiful learning lesson, and sometimes it takes Years & Years to understand the lesson especially when you’re stubborn like me. But by the end of my life I can only hope I’ve painted my canvas with as many of these lessons as I possibly could. Or something. I also really like Pokémon.

What’s a song or piece of music you continually return to?

New Friends — Pinegrove; Musician — Porter Robinson, Chocolate — The 1975; Kyoto — Phoebe Bridgers; Saturday — Fall Out Boy. Over Before It Began — Joyce Manor.

Tell me about a lesson you’ve learned in the past year.

I’m not sure which aphorism is best here but I’m settling on Life Is Long. What this means is, Truly, ANYTHING can happen. This year, I lost all my credit cards, my passport, my scooter keys and my car broke down all in the span of a week. I got back in touch with 3(!!) separate extremely important people to me who I never thought I’d hear from again. I fell in love with a good friend who I never looked twice at before. When the insurance adjuster went to inspect my car he squatted and split his pants and was too embarrassed to do a proper look-over and approved a bigger reimbursement than he probably should have. Final Fantasy Versus XIII is going to be reborn in the form of Kingdom Hearts 4. Anything can happen, and the only way things don’t come full circle is if you stop playing the game.

What are you most excited about or obsessed with right now? What brings you the most pleasure lately?

This sounds so Boring but right now I am most passionate about Getting Good Sleep. I don’t know what it was the last 6 months* but I have gotten 8 hours like. 10 times since January? I didn’t even realize I was feeling Crazy until I got prescribed some sleeping pills and Got 3 days in a row of Good Sleep and felt like myself and again and was like. Yeah. Okay buddy. This has to be your priority. Everything else you’ve ever wanted in life will come to you if you start here.

*I do know, it was the most Stressful & Unstable but also Emotionally Rich & Vivid 6 months of my life.

List three to five items you can’t live without.

Gum and/or Altoids. My shitty red convertible Mustang. Apple Earbuds. Dishwasher. The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron.

Anything else you want to share? Upcoming projects/releases/shows/events etc.

I am not going to overpromise anything, but just know something Extremely Big & Incredibly Cool is going to be announced “Soon.”

The only way things don’t come full circle is if you stop playing the game.

see you next week.

Mary

Sunday night, feeling restless. Feeling like I’m lacking fortitude lately. Went to the pool yesterday and got absolutely NAILED by mosquitoes. Covered in red welts all over my back and legs. Read Annie Ernaux’s Simple Passion over the weekend, which made me feel both smarter and more stupid. She writes:

I experienced pleasure like a future pain.

I sit on my porch and think about all the times I’ve felt like this and how her writing touches on something dark and eternally feminine. I felt similarly when I read Getting Lost in Wyoming last summer. I want to go back to Wyoming. I keep having this craving for wide open space.

Today I got certified for Reiki Level 2.

Reiki has been an interesting side quest this year… About two years ago, I was having very intense psychosomatic pain in my throat, and an acquaintance suggested that I try Reiki. I went to the first person I found online, a very kind man named Ivan who now has a space in an office building off of MoPac. He floated his hands over my body while I told him everything that had happened to me. I also mentioned that I was having nosebleeds from stress. I lay there and cried and felt soothed after the session, but it was only in the days and weeks that followed that I was stunned to notice that the pain disappeared, and also, I had one final nosebleed, and then it never happened again… I was instantly a convert. Reiki also helps if you’re hungover… I don’t fully understand how it works, but I do know that it does.

I did my first Reiki class at the beginning of March, with three other women, one of whom had clearly just had her first psychedelic experiences and really wanted to talk about them and also seemed very sad. The two other students were both very eccentric. Today, the class had a steadier and more professional energy, both of the other women were preparing to become full-blown practitioners and charge for their services. We practiced sending each other “distance Reiki” by having the giver sit inside, meditate, and send healing energy to the receivers, who sat outside in the parking lot. Sitting outside in the parking lot was calming, even though we were close to the highway. I closed my eyes and chanted “I am open to receive” to myself, occasionally feeling undulating sensations in my chest and in my body, almost like a ripple in a pond. But my mind kept wandering, and I kept trying to bring it back. I spend a lot of time walking in silence, but I don’t really meditate, so trying to quiet the noisiness of my thinking mind felt hard. One of the women noticed a big red-tailed hawk perched in a tree, and Ivan said that at one of his offices, whenever he was actively doing Reiki, he would notice that birds would often gather in front of the window. This sounds like hooey unless you’ve done psychedelic drugs and had trees laugh at you, or noticed that animals and spiders are suddenly unafraid and will approach, except for the one time I took mushrooms by myself, and my dog was so thoroughly disgusted he refused to sit by me. The sense I got from him in the moment was that he thought I was being emotionally indulgent. In hindsight, he was right.

Afterwards we all discussed what giving and receiving energy felt like. The other two students were clearly pretty tapped in. Ivan was my partner for giving and receiving energy, and he seemed pleased by whatever it was I’d sent him, which was a relief. It felt easier to send than to receive. One of the women said she was exhausted after sending, but Ivan said that this will pass, you won’t get tired because the energy isn’t yours, you’re just the channel.

You’re just the channel.

Around the time I first started going to Ivan, I was seeing a lot of healers and medium-type people. One girl who did an aura healing for me over the phone (not real), a guy who did past life regression (spooky), a psychic (spooky & real), an acupuncturist (real), kambo (real)… Anything, anything at all to make me feel better. Lately I mostly feel good, except for right now because of the bug bites. Anyways. I’ve been listening to a lot of Pretenders and Kate Bush. I listen to this song over and over. Chrissie Hynde is so cool. I love this quote from her:

“I wanted my voice to take life by the throat and rattle it until it made sense.”

Sort of how I feel right now. Next week I’ll have a proper playlist for you.

In the meantime, all my love.

mary

one

Right now I’m obsessed with this cafe near my parent’s house that serves homemade sausages and eggs that are too greasy. I get a stupid fucking six dollar Bawi or an orange juice or sometimes a coffee, but lately coffee is hyping me up too much and making it hard for me to focus. I pull out my little laptop and sit at the exact same table every time and hype myself up to work on whatever it is that I’m supposed to be doing that day. There is one employee here who likes me, and he is always coming over and asking me if I want some more water? I always want more water. He says, do you need anything else? And I say, no I’m great and smile really big, but I am thinking about all the things I need. I’d ask him to hang out, but then I probably couldn’t come here as much unless we fell in love, so I don’t. I like his water-filling levels of devotion. The psychic told me not to date for the next few months, that I need to focus on my spiritual growth. I know she’s right, but it gets boring. Almost all of my friends are in relationships or married. Sometimes I feel ensnared in an ouroboros of my own aloneness — lonely in a way that feels eternal and is incommunicable unless you are in the exact same situation and life phase. Sometimes the feeling is so intense, it feels like my skin is literally hungry. Update, he just showed up for his shift and asked me if I needed anything. Okay, I love him. Forget about being alone. I realized the other day that the only thing I miss about being in a relationship other than regular access to cuddling and sex, is watching TV in bed with someone. I really miss that. The AC is running almost too cold in here and I wish I’d worn a different shirt. When it’s this hot outside, my appetite gets weird and nothing sounds good to eat other than watermelon and hot dogs. I’m posting trial reels like my life depends on it and hoping this changes my life. I feel like I’m overdue for my life being changed.

Everyone is talking about the World Cup but I’m still recovering from the Spurs breaking my heart, so I’m not engaging with anything. My bandwidth is too limited for that. Going to the studio later to re-track my vocals for an upcoming song later today, then Hayden and I are going to crank another track for a song we wrote a few weeks ago, just for fun. My tastes have shifted significantly in the past year, which is good because it means I’m making progress, but it’s a little annoying because it means I have to re-work things I thought were finished. Process process process.

two

Ben DuBois the other day reminded me about this amazing songwriter named Dailey Toliver, who worked on all of Molly Burch’s albums. I hadn’t known that Dailey had put out a record of his own. It’s incredible. I listen to this song over and over again:

If I remember correctly, Dailey also toured some in Devendra Banhart’s band. I think about Devendra and when he dated this model who made embroidered undies that were semi-viral. Some people really just live wonderful lives. THIS is the gray matter that fills up all the cracks in my brain. I like Devendra a lot, mostly because he’s an artist’s artist. I like his paintings too. I wonder what Devendra is like sexually, either he’s amazing or he’s the worst. There’s no in-between with a guy like that. I bet he’s amazing.

My brothers FaceTime me from a bar in Berlin. Jacob tells me that Michael has been bossy all week. Their friend weighs in to the FaceTime to confirm that Michael is, in fact, being bossy. Who is that, I ask. That’s Garrison, they say simultaneously, you’ve met him so many times.

three

Went to bed last night feeling ragey, woke up still feeling ragey. Made a long list of everything I’m mad about, felt a little better. Walked, did my exercises, warmed up my voice, sang a little. Hayden texts me that we should write a bridge to the new song to flesh it out, which means we’ll re-record it. I’m glad.

Now I’m back at the cafe typing.

Thinking about when Cat Power crowd-funded her rent or something because she’d run out of money because she hadn’t been able to go on tour for a while, and how insane that is. Not that she’d run out of money or whatever, but that a literal goddess of indie music had so few financial guardrails, especially given how impactful her music has been, however many millions of streams she’s accumulated and records she’s sold over the course of her career. She said something, I’m paraphrasing, but it was something along the lines of — my peers started podcasts and substacks, but that is not what I do. I have admiration for this — not everyone needs to everything. God put her on earth to write music and sing, why should she be forced to do anything but her gift??

Ordered a hot dog and drinking some cold brew. Working on a project, emailing people, texting people from my computer. Claire is here and working across from me in my favorite booth, eating avocado toast. Sat next to two gay dads, their baby keeps staring at me. They tell me that their baby seems like he likes me which is unusual because normally he is very shy you must be special. I feel extremely special. The baby stuffs a finger in his mouth, his mouth is filled with crinkle cut French fries. One of the dads drinks a beer. I wonder if I should drink a beer and just resign myself to doing nothing over the Fourth of July weekend but that feels illegal. I’ll come here tomorrow and the next day and the day after that until my life feels like it’s sorted out.

The Fourth of July is such a weird holiday. I think about a Fourth of July weekend when I was in college. I worked at an Italian restaurant as a hostess. I was always encouraged to dress up and wear heels, which I always enjoyed. I loved working there, it was so adult and I was so young. Sometimes the servers would fish olives out of the cold case for me to eat, or sneak me sips of wine even though I was underage. Alejandro Escovedo and ZZ Top would come in sometimes. One time David Byrne came in for dinner with a really gorgeous woman who was his age, she smelled amazing. My favorite server was a guy named Reid who would always preface the dinner service with guests by saying, Do you wanna go to The Ranch or The Beach, meaning did they want steak or did they want fish? I loved him. He was never pervy towards any of the girls, and he was protective of me and Lucy. I wore fuschia Revlon lipstick and a silver Anthropologie dress that night that always made me feel like the moon.

That night I got cut early and went to Priya’s house and hung out with Carlo and Luca and Sam and Jane. I knew I looked nice, but so much of my life then was governed by intense self-consciousness. I don’t remember anything else about that night, beyond the fact that I wore the silver dress, and it was very hot, and I craved being liked. The city felt dead. People drank beer and smoked cigarettes, and acted cool and I felt nervous but a little better because of my outfit. One of the better things about the fire, is that it broke my brain so completely that I lost a lot of my social anxiety. Occasionally, it still peaks through, but for the most part, the worst case scenario grounded me in a way that has seemingly changed my life for the better. I don’t get nervous like that much anymore. The craving to be liked, unfortunately, remains.

Cafe Boy arrives. He asks us if we need anything. I can’t think of anything I can ask him for. I need my draft written, I need my video clips edited, I need to send 50 emails, I need to practice more, I need to stop thinking about what to text XXXXXX. I ask him what he’s doing for the Fourth of July and he says that they’re having a big party here so everyone can pregame the fireworks. I say I’ll probably be here because now this is so firmly my routine I can’t imagine doing anything else with my life. He tells us to let him know if we need anything.

I ask Claire if there’s anything in my teeth. She says no. I wonder what happened to the silver moon dress.

I think I threw it away.

Those who have known me for longest, know that for most of my adult life I've been interviewing people in some capacity (in the last decade I’ve interviewed culture movers like Alessia Cara, Colin Mochrie, Chris Coady, Eliana Gil Rodriguez (), Avery McClure, … the list goes on…) I love people and I love learning how they operate, what their proclivities are, what they do in private, their routines etc., all probably in hopes that their attitudes and proclivities would in some way inform me about how I could live better. For a while I tried having a long-form podcast, but the grueling nature of editing, scheduling etc… as well as the fact that I’ve gradually decreased my own time spent listening to anything other than music, made me want to try again, and try something different. Also, I like having a reference point I can return to.

So this is my new column: fabulous person all about the inner lives of generative people.

My first guest is Hannah Louise, a multidisciplinary artist, photographer and dear friend based in Arizona.

“The idea that I can be an artist or even just nothing at all, simply a person, is so beautiful.”

- Hannah Louise

Who are you, where do you live, and what do/what do you make?

I am Hannah Louise, I live in Arizona. I curate home goods, take photos, make jewelry, watercolor, and lay on my back on the hot cement patio and stare at the night sky looking for UFOs.

What’s something about your working or creative process that most people don’t know about?

I remember how do to things in bursts and then I completely forget how to do things for years. I can design beautiful jewelry and then find myself completely incapable of recreating the same style a few weeks later. I move best when I flow between mediums and go where my inspiration leads me.

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What helps you to stay grounded emotionally in your work/life? What pulls you out of a rut (emotionally/work/life)?

Allowing myself to fail, allowing myself to move slowly, allowing myself to change my ideas, allowing myself to disconnect from outside influences.

What’s your guiding light, philosophy or principle for living?

I get all the answers on my sunset walks, when I’m stretching my body, and in my dreams. I believe we have been here before, I believe I am very old, I believe I am very young.

Tell me about the relationships that have had the biggest impact on you.

My most painful failed romances and friendships have given me the deepest insights and mirror into my own psyche. I see myself in all of these people and I am deeply grateful to each of them.

What are you most excited about or obsessed with right now? What do you keep coming back to?

I am working to open a store with my various collected home treasures, art prints, jewelry and more. The thing that excites me the most about this is understanding the energetics of value and creating a channel to begin sharing special heirlooms with other people, and in that way becoming a part of their inner world.

I recently decided to retire from working as a freelance photographer and designer. This is the kind of work that becomes a persons entire identity, especially with social media. It was work that swallowed me whole and left me feeling hollow and inadequate against the pace of life these days. Since so many young artists dream of getting the kind of jobs I have been blessed to land, it seemed crazy that I could ever quit.

But now that I’ve done it, I feel like I can take a full breath of air. It’s like I have ten years of computer tabs open in my brain and they are starting to close one by one, like a waterfall of relief.

The idea that I can be an artist or even just nothing at all, simply a person, is so beautiful.

I am trusting that if people enjoyed one of my mediums, surely there will be people who understand my feelings through other mediums, and who will want to share my world.

Thanks again for being here.

As always, sending love, whoever and wherever you are.

xo

mary bryce

More recently, people have started asking me what I actually LIKE in Austin, Texas, and also they want to know what I THINK about it. Is Austin cool? Did anyone keep Austin weird? Is it lame? I believe that the inherent nature of cities is that they shape-shift and morph, who and what they serve and why is obviously fraught. However, if cities don’t change and grow, they die… That said, there’s been a massive influx of influencer-adjacent, wealthy, young people that were never here before. Presumably they work for companies like SpaceX, etc., but they’re everywhere and have definitely been a factor in the omnipresent ~vibe shift~ I read an article or watched a TikTok or something recently about how everywhere feels like everywhere now… You can find a matcha and go to SoHo House in like every major city. Which makes everything…. kind of lame. That said, I am a sucker and enjoy both SoHo House and matcha, so what do I know. It’s all a far cry from the Austin of my youth, which was quirkier and smaller and much more regional feeling. But again, this is the nature of change.

The most defining feature of Texas, despite the same-sameness and TikTokification of everything, for me largely lies in the land itself. The sky here really is bigger. Maybe it’s an optical illusion, but it’s somehow wider here. You get the sky in stereo. And I love that. One of the more underrated features of Central Texas, and Texas in general (that I bore people with at parties) is that all of the waterways here are public — no one is allowed to own river or beach access. I think this is one of the many reasons why Texans are so friendly, they’re constantly forced to mingle regardless of race or class or political affiliation, in order to swim and get reprieve from the heat. This is arguably the best thing about a flawed and beautiful state. But I digress.

Barton Springs

This is the one thing you must do. A blessed and beautiful swimming hole that stays at 68F year round. Turtles and fish swim in the pool, and for the past few years there’s been a family of Egyptian geese that have babies every spring. In the summer, on the south side, it’s definitely a pick up spot where people go to see and be seen, which sometimes I am in the mood for but sometimes not.

Deep Eddy & Deep Eddy Cabaret

When I want a more private pool-going experience, I go to Deep Eddy, which is also beautiful but much smaller and more of a traditional pool, though it’s also filled with chilly spring-fed water. After, you can go to Deep Eddy Cabaret and crush a few cold ones with the boys. I decided that this would be my bar this summer, but I’ve only gone once.

Carpenter Hotel

I’ve never actually stayed here, but I’m a loyalist about the coffee here for some reason. I like the interior decor and the mirror in the bathroom. I exclusively get their cold brew, which always has a flavor profile similar to that of chocolate milk. My friend Sister Palm sometimes does palm readings here, check the Carpenter events calendar to see if you can book with her.

Donn’s Depot

The best bar in Austin, old school and old-timey. They have a super incredible array of regulars, including a man who’s literally a hundred years old who sits at a table specifically reserved for him. He’s always wearing a shirt that says CHICK MAGNET. It’s a piano bar, and they play the classics, sometimes people dance. It’s gotten popular with a younger and bougier crowd, but I like that it’s always a mix of people across demographics. I’ve never had a bad time here. The bartenders are legendary and have been there forever. I always go here most around the holidays, but it’s wonderful year round.

Sagebrush

A newer honky tonk with a big dance floor. I go here almost weekly to sing with my friend Hayden Butler, who is my favorite songwriter in Austin, his band is incredible. Prior to the show, there’s a two-step lesson at 7pm. I believe it’s free. I recently learned that they have Gatorade on tap.

White Horse

I fell in love on the dancefloor at the White Horse with my now ex-fiancé. It felt like flying. We were probably not the first, and definitely not the last to have a moment here. It’s my understanding that the best night to go dancing here is actually on Tuesdays, because on the weekends it’s always filled with chicks on bachelorettes and fratty guys who are trying to party with chicks on bachelorettes. That said, it’s always lively and fun. The door is always cash, but they do have an ATM. I used to love the taco truck there, but it’s been a few years.

Polvo’s

Unpretentious, unfussy, and delicious for fast and wonderful Tex-Mex. I see a lot of people drinking margaritas here, but I always get a Corona and a platter of beef and vegetable fajitas, which so far have been unbeatable. It’s the real thing.

Justine’s

A classic French restaurant that always has great music. All of the employees are sexy and friendly, and it’s great for people-watching. I don’t often drink cocktails, but when I do, this is where I want to drink them. The food is good, the last time I went I had a truly lovely salad.

Community Garden

Great neighborhood spot that’s always filled with beautiful people. They have acai bowls and natural wine and cheap beer. Lovely vibe.

H-E-B

I never understood the fuss about Texas grocery stores until I lived elsewhere. HEB is the people’s princess here, similar to Texas waterways, HEB has heavy cultural sway and honestly could probably run the entire country and do it in a thoughtful and beneficial way for all. When the Spurs were facing off with the Knicks, I stood next to some guys from New York who kept shouting WHAT IS H-E-B.

Lockhart

• I go to Lockhart to visit Jen a lot, and every time I go I make sure to eat a smashburger at Old Pal. The fried chicken is also excellent. It’s adorable, and you feel very Texan when you’re here. It’s magical. I really like the drive out.

• Case Room for mixed drinks and Best Little for wines and French fries. I also strongly recommend you venture a little farther to Martindale or San Marcos to swim in the river.

• The best BBQ in Austin is actually in Lockhart, and it’s at Barb’s BQ. I’m also obsessed with the green spaghet, which is a creamy poblano spaghetti. They always sell out.

Ottine Mineral Springs

I also love going to Ottine Mineral Springs, which combined with Lockhart is a nice day trip. The mineral springs have lithium in the water. I think the facilities were originally built in the 20s or 30s to treat children with polio and have only recently been revived. The food and drinks are great, and it’s a very soothing and spa-like atmosphere. A great activity for a friend or two, nice to bring a book and mellow out. My parents went for the day, after about 5 hours I received a text from my dad that just said “this is awesome.” And my dad is a hard sell! The texture of my skin and hair after being in the water here always feels incredible.

I can’t think of anything else. I go to the same handful of places all the time. I know this list is lacking in restaurants, but I’ve become embarrassingly unfussy about food, especially here where it’s rare that things truly blow me away. Annie did tell me the other day that Casa Bianca blew her mind, I’ll go for dinner and tell you about it. Anyways. These are literally the only places I go when I’m here. I really mean that.

Love,

Mary

one

I think I’m overstimulated all the time, because my phone lately overwhelms me more than ever. I can’t handle the quantity of messaging — across texting, Instagram, and TikTok, phone calls, and then talking in real life, and then uploading things for different people, and then for myself and wanting it all to be liked liked liked. It’s so much input all the time. Eating banana nut ice cream in bed on the solstice. Booboo is under the covers. A few weeks ago, I did a session with a psychic hoping she would tell me that I’m about to have some kind of breakthrough. Instead she had me do a very intense visualization with her. We imagined a meadow filled with flower together with our eyes closed. Then she had me look at a flower in the meadow, and then she had me go inside the flower and look out through the eyes of the flower.

Sometimes I think I have a sort of faulty and lacking imagination — in some ways, I would say I’m a 2 maybe on the aphantasia scale?

I can visualize, but it doesn’t always feel crystalline.

I don’t know what happened, but suddenly, during the meditation I was in the meadow, I mean really in the meadow, and I was looking out through the eyes of the flower. I could view the meadow with a 360 angle, as if I were one big eye, but the meadow was suddenly blurry, as if the flower’s eyes were a smeary windowpane. I have never imagined something like this, or so clearly. I felt transported, as if I were somewhere else completely. The sensation was so shocking and so intense I opened my eyes. I was back in my room at my parents’ house, talking to the psychic on zoom. Her eyes were still closed. People love to tell me that they don’t believe in anything woo woo, but I’ve had so many inexplicable experiences that I see no other alternative. Just because there’s more than what we perceive with our human eyes, doesn’t mean more isn’t there. My heart was racing and I felt afraid. I re-entered the meditation, but more gingerly this time, opening my eyes every so often. Later in the session, she told me that she sensed my energy the most when we were in the meadow with the flowers. I just smiled. Something had happened, nothing had happened. She told me to stay in touch.

two

I felt the woah in the spring, at a party where I didn't know anyone. I made eye contact with a stranger. We talked for a few minutes. I thought woah.

It’s so weird when it happens. Different than lust, different than just regular attraction, woah like awe, woah like who are you, woah like something more. I think it’s only happened two or maybe three in the nearly three years that I’ve been single. It feels just like what it sounds like: astonishment, a golden thread of recognition that extends from one immaterial spirit to another. Alignment I guess, of body, heart, mind. It’s a rare feeling, so exciting that it makes it hard to sleep, different even than a crush, because crushes rely heavily on fantasy. But the woah is real, mostly because I believe it goes both ways because it’s felt so intensely in the body — this totally reciprocal moment of receiving and seeing, that lasts for just a split second. Maybe it’s the feeling of being recognized in a soul way. I woke up in the morning shaken and elated. Nothing came of it, we barely even spoke, but knowing that this feeling existed was enough to live on for a few months, maybe the rest of the year. Something had happened, nothing had happened, but I haven’t forgotten. I was moved.

One of the best books I’ve read in the past few years is An Honest Woman by Charlotte Shane, who deftly writes about her life during and after sex work. I was floored by the translucent quality of her writing, so earnest and clear. I tried to interview her once, but she very politely declined. I was honored even by her reply. The most touching part of the book however, is when she talks about meeting her husband:

I know every love is incredible in the truest sense of the word, meaning so extraordinary that it exists beyond the horizon of belief—though love is incontrovertible, the direct experience of belief itself. I’d been carried away and consumed by romantic obsession before, but I’d never loved like this. It was a state change, a metamorphosis. With him, there was everything at once: the friendship, the attraction, the passion, the fascination, the intimacy, the trust. Each element that I thought could only dance with and orbit the others was pulled into the same center and joined with so much force that they exploded, and the explosion was inside me, perpetual and permanent. I became loving, the way spark becomes flame and then aflame, replenishing itself with its endurance. Finding him felt like an inevitability and also a miracle. Maybe miracles are always fated.

So beautiful. I hadn’t seen this acknowledged before — that fascination was an important part of romantic love. No one ever asks if someone fascinates you. They want to know if they’re stable, what they do for work, if they like your friends. For all of their faults (and mine), the very few people I have truly loved have fascinated me — not as puzzles to be solved, but almost as a sacred text or sedimentary rock that I was obsessed with and studied. They were so intriguing to me, and me specifically. I wanted to know everything and memorize everything, I wanted to know why and how they had become who they were, I wanted beginning middle and end. I would know, and that knowing would make me whole. Sometimes in these relationships, I used to get this feeling that I was a cup being slowly filled to the brim until I overflowed. I knew that this level of absorption was not good for me, and still I was so hungry to know, starving to know, that being known ceased to matter to me — even though deep down that’s what I really wanted. This does not make me proud.

Over the weekend, one of my oldest and dearest friends got married, and it was so sweet and charming. Beyond the cake and the party and the whole shebang, it all felt so ephemeral to me. Since my broken engagement, I’ve been cynical about weddings. To me, weddings are mostly business. But what do I know.

Occasionally, however, the grander point of the invisible bond, the weight of the promise — knowing that you are promising because of everything that can and will happen…. It makes me glassy-eyed and fearful and hopeful for people who are so brave. Love so thoughtful and reckless, a fated miracle.

three

A day passed.

I drink some spritz for Annie’s birthday. I go dancing in kitten heels, and feel girly and ridiculous. I think about how I’m taking everything too serious. The problems always arise when you take things too serious on the physical plane. Diagnosing myself for taking things too serious. While dancing I ask myself, What Would Cher Do? Cher said “I was bad, but I shoulda been worse.” I think about taking this really to heart.

WWCD.

I tell my therapist that I’m trying to weigh out the importance and relevance of events in my life with WWCD. She writes this down. She asks me, with this in mind, what does WWCD inform about your decisions moving forward. I say that I should probably buy more shoes. We laugh.

I think about this while I drive home more earnestly.

Cher would lean into woah. She would search for fascination. She would believe in fated miracles.

She would look out through the eyes of flower, and she wouldn’t be afraid.

So hot today that the plastic cup of cold brew I left on the hood of the truck fully melted in the span of about two hours. That’s Texas for you.

One thing I really like about being here is that there’s no filter between me and the environment — I sweat more, engage with the elements more. When I first moved to California, I was shocked by how little interest people seemed to have in the weather. Here, the weather is a personality, a full-blown entity that everyone interacts with and discusses all day long. Since this morning, the clouds have burned off, and the muggy hair is intensely thick and heavy. A few days ago, it rained so hard that the creeks flooded and filled with water. It hasn’t rained like that in a long time.

On Sunday, it was Lindsey’s birthday. They rented a boat, and we all rode around in a speedboat, doing lake rat shit. I was too scared to wakeboard. It was so fun, and when I finally got home, my skin was hot and taut feeling. I’ll die on the hill that having a little sunburn is good for you. Just every now and then. Occasionally you need to overdose a little sunshine in order to stay healthy and regulated.

I keep getting TikToks about the Schumann Resonance, and maybe it’s just propaganda, but I do like the idea that everything is connected to the electromagnetic pulse of the earth, that the tides of my own moods could be connected to something outside of myself. I find it comforting.

Anyway, here are two treats for you this week. A playlist I made for you called swimming. And a rendition of my favorite song of all time, “if I could only fly,” which was written by Texas songwriter Blaze Foley that I recorded last fall with Jack and Jen. I wrote more about it in the caption on YouTube :)

A lot of the songs on here are sentimentally summer songs for me. Ben Kweller! I mean… I intended this to be listened to AS you drive to wherever you like to swim. By the end it mellows out. Anyways.

More next week.

All my love,
Mary

Last night I went to an “embodied movement” class for women in the park. It was at sunset, and it was free. Probably because it was free, there were a handful of men there, including one guy whose literal JAW was on the FLOOR watching all of these gyrating yogic hippie chicks popping their coochies and breathing from their sacral chakra and practicing being “embodied,” while the instructor told us to circle our hips to release trauma. Earnestly, I enjoyed the lesson, and corny as these kinds of things often are, I think it’s sometimes necessary to be somatically guided in order to “drop in” physically. Occasionally I get this feeling of stuckness in my body that I can’t fully explain. It’s gotten a lot better in the past few months, but still, occasionally I get this weird sensation like my chest is energetically frozen. I thought the class would help. But the look on the man’s face was so awed and confused, and so obviously turned on… I dunno, it was so funny, I had to look away so that I wouldn’t laugh. It was nice to be outside on the grass, and to be inside of my body. There was a little bit of a breeze and I wondered why I never do this, why I never just go to the park and stretch and let myself really unwind. Perhaps this is the start. I stayed up late reading the new who I honestly think is the best writer on Substack. Someone get her a book deal. Inspired.

After that I wrote for a while in a Rollbahn notebook I bought in New York. I was a Moleskine loyalist for my entire twenties, and then after the fire, I had to throw away a bunch of my journals because they rotted from water damage and smoke — and it killed my urge to write in Moleskines. The Rollbahn thing feels important. I’ve almost filled one up, a micro accomplishment.

The Spurs lost on Friday, and that blows, but Jalen Brunson is literally so fierce and so fucking tough that it literally makes me want to root for the Knicks. He just wants it so bad. A true warrior. I can’t stop thinking about it.

I feel like summer is the best for getting back to the heart of the matter. It’s too hot for complexity, you know? I want components of food at their simplest, slices of watermelon or apple, crackers, or like a hot dog or something, or celery juice. Effortlessness is paramount. Even though I hate turning the oven on when it’s hot. Bread baking offers both purpose and nourishment. This is a recipe directly from Bon Appétit — that I have copied and pasted for you here. I love this recipe and have used it over and over again for years now. I proselytize about this focaccia. A perfect recipe.

The last time I mentioned it was in 2022. I wrote:

When I was in college and trotting all over Austin wearing Korkease and driving my mom’s beat-up minivan— there was this particular feeling in the air the fall that I was twenty— maybe something about the way the air smelled or just a sense that the world was changing… something feels similar this year… My brother calls me and worries about the future of the world and I try to not think about it and watch the clouds gently slide across the sky from my attic window. When I was 20 I was so excited to go to bars and go to brunch and coffee shops and exert my will on the world. I feel calmer now but that energy still shifts around inside of me.

This was four(!) years ago now, and think about how much that feeling of restlessness has been both the bane of my existence and also most essential life force. Strange. Anyways, today I am baking the focaccia along with this godly tomato compound butter from Thomas Straker. Compound butter gives me the feeling of infinity bounty, abundance and riches beyond my wildest dreams. It makes me feel like I can have anything I want.

It smells like it’s going to rain, which I want. I want it to rain and rain and I want the creeks to be so full of water that I can swim for weeks and sun myself on rocks and listen to other people listening to reggae.

Now I’m listening to Bob Marley. No one can tell me shit.

Who knows, the Spurs just might pull through.

Focaccia

1 (¼-oz.) envelope active dry yeast (about 2¼ tsp.)

2 tsp. honey

5 cups (625 g) all-purpose flour

5 tsp. Diamond Crystal or 1 Tbsp. Morton kosher salt

6 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil, divided, plus more for hands

4 Tbsp. unsalted butter, plus more for pan

Flaky sea salt

2–4

garlic cloves

Step 1

Whisk one ¼-oz. envelope active dry yeast (about 2¼ tsp.), 2 tsp. honey, and 2½ cups lukewarm water in a medium bowl and let sit 5 minutes (it should foam or at least get creamy; if it doesn’t your yeast is dead and you should start again—check the expiration date!).

Step 2

Add 5 cups (625 g) all-purpose flour and 5 tsp. Diamond Crystal or 1 Tbsp. Morton kosher salt and mix with a rubber spatula until a shaggy dough forms and no dry streaks remain.

Step 3

Pour 4 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil into a big bowl that will fit in your refrigerator. This puppy is going to rise! Transfer dough to bowl and turn to coat in oil. Cover with a silicone lid or plastic wrap and chill until dough is doubled in size (it should look very bubbly and alive), at least 8 hours and up to 1 day. If you’re in a rush, you can also let it rise at room temperature until doubled in size, 3–4 hours.

Step 4

Generously butter a 13x9” baking pan, for thicker focaccia that’s perfect for sandwiches, or an 18x13” rimmed baking sheet, for focaccia that’s thinner, crispier, and great for snacking. The butter may seem superfluous, but it’ll ensure that your focaccia doesn’t stick. Pour 1 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil into center of pan. Keeping the dough in the bowl and using a fork in each hand, gather up edges of dough farthest from you and lift up and over into center of bowl. Give the bowl a quarter turn and repeat process. Do this 2 more times; you want to deflate dough while you form it into a rough ball. (We learned this technique from Alexandra Stafford, who uses it to shape her no-knead bread.) Transfer dough to prepared pan. Pour any oil left in bowl over and turn dough to coat it in oil. Let rise, uncovered, in a dry, warm spot (like near a radiator or on top of the fridge or a preheating oven) until doubled in size, at least 1½ hours and up to 4 hours.

Step 5

Place a rack in middle of oven; preheat to 450°. To see if the dough is ready, poke it with your finger. It should spring back slowly, leaving a small visible indentation. If it springs back quickly, the dough isn’t ready. (If at this point the dough is ready to bake but you aren’t, you can chill it up to 1 hour.) Lightly oil your hands. If using a rimmed baking sheet, gently stretch out dough to fill (you probably won’t need to do this if using a baking pan). Dimple focaccia all over with your fingers, like you’re aggressively playing the piano, creating very deep depressions in the dough (reach your fingers all the way to the bottom of the pan). Drizzle with remaining 1 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil and sprinkle with flaky sea salt. Bake focaccia until puffed and golden brown all over, 20–30 minutes.

Step 6

Hold off on this last step until you’re ready to serve the focaccia: Melt 4 Tbsp. unsalted butter in a small saucepan over medium heat. Remove from heat. Peel and grate in 2–4 garlic cloves with a Microplane (use 2 cloves if you’re garlic-shy or up to 4 if you love it). Return to medium heat and cook, stirring often, until garlic is just lightly toasted, 30–45 seconds. (Or, if you prefer raw garlic to toasted garlic, you can grate the garlic into the hot butter, off heat, then brush right away.)

Step 7

Brush garlic-butter all over focaccia and slice into squares or rectangles.

See you next week <3

Only some months matter. June and August matter. July is irrelevant.

Something is always happening in August. We moved to LA in August. The fire happened in August. Two years ago, when I moved back to LA for the second time, I sublet from Chloe in a house that I think burned down a few months later in the Altadena fires. It was August again. I wasn’t doing well, in hindsight, it was probably too soon for me to have moved, but there I was. I was really into wearing long, long ribbons in my hair, and one of those slutty American Apparel cheerleader skirts with big oversized button-downs and kitten heels. I went on an amazing Hinge date with a guy who was an amazing kisser who ghosted me immediately after, but then I started texting him whenever I was bored, so we texted for a year after that. Such is modern love. On our one date he took me to a drag race, the kind where they race busted cars. I think that racetrack is closed now. I remember everything with precision. Later that month, Luca and Celeste had a truly beautiful wedding, I wore a pink dress. I was thinking a lot about love, but more so about pleasure. I read ’s book I’m Mostly Here to Enjoy Myself, which has formed a sort of ideological bedrock for how I’ve tried to approach my life these past few years. I wrote an essay called the thesis is pleasure. I went to the beach a lot. I was trying to heal. It was August. August has weight.

But now it is June. June is a weightless month.

June will never change your life for the worse. June is a puffed cloud floating in a wide blue sky, June is warm pavement, June is waking up and not caring what you do or who you are because it’s summer. June is eating a mango. June is getting high with Lucy in the creek when I was 22, except I got so high that I had to walk home, and my brothers laughed at me while I hallucinated throwing ping pong balls into a starlit sky, and the ping pong balls became stars, and seriously, I never really smoked weed again after that. The summer I was 22, it rained so much that everything flooded and for months everyone would go swim and drink beer, and when the beer got warm you could keep it cool by holding it in the creek water, and we would hike up to Swirl, and Gus Fruh, and I would lay in the shallow water, just six inches deep with all the smooth white rocks, feeling so peaceful with everything. I had my tonsils taken out that summer. I fell in love that summer. The time goes so quick. I text Lucy i’m so happy it’s summer. Lucys says, Bitch me too I’m having an incredible summer so far. And we are only like one week in!

Zoe tells me this is Ordinary Time, which, according to the Christian church, is after the liturgical year has ended, and nothing was really happening after the ascension of Jesus, ecclesiastically speaking. The unbound nature of time right now feels so good. I’m trying to really work this summer, make something out of my stupid and busted and beautiful and perfect life. When I am not typing away on my computer, I tell everyone that the theme of my summer is Texasmaxxing. I’m going to have the most Texan summer anyone has ever had, ever.

I went to Chalmers over the weekend with Steven and Lindsey and they saved me a seat right up at the front next to the big screen, and we watched the Spurs win, which is huge if you are from Texas. The game was so exciting and wonderful, and during the commercial breaks everyone was dancing, with a DJ playing Selena and hip-hop. This very big tall guy came and asked this short girl sitting right in front of us if she wanted to dance and they danced together in front of everyone, and they were so cute together, everyone was cheering and so excited. It was darling. I couldn’t remember the last time I was surrounded by that many happy people. And then the Spurs actually WON and the lady standing behind us was literally crying and I jumped up and down like a kid, and everyone was screaming. It was pandemonium and so euphoric, and everyone was honking their horns and chanting Go Spurs GO. Steven told me that after we all left the bar, he and Lindsey just drove around honking, and everyone was honking back because it was so exciting. I thought to myself, if the Spurs can win, anything in life is possible, if the Spurs can win, I can do anything. I must be a warrior, I must be as strong as the Spurs. I hope they get it together on Friday.

Exactly a year ago, I put out my third book of poetry, Father Sky. I didn’t promote it much, I was in a moment of trying to really push my life forward, and talking about it at the time just felt redundant. But I like this one. It’s nice to have written. The windows are fogged from the AC and the humidity and the rain this morning. I am late to write this week, it takes so much time to have something to say. Booboo is grumpy. I’m going to listen to my new favorite song “angel” about 100 more times. I am ignoring my work. It’s okay.

This is just Ordinary Time.