March-making
White Desert & where i have been
Hi, readers-like-friends,
At this time of year, ideas become displays, concerns turn into nightmares, and the days pass at the rate of anaphoras at 2 in the morning. The state of the world is terrible, worse, worst, yet I persist in finding joy, in finding myself and art everywhere I go.
And I DO FIND ART, BUT AT THE COST OF WHAT?
I try to convince myself that all my efforts are paying off. Even when the end results seem to be saying otherwise. Am I just beginning, though?
I sleep less, read more. Eat less, swim more. I am now writing about the things that I have always wanted to yet I feel like I have lost many days just being nothing to feel something, to get somewhere.
“I’ve acquired the detestable habit of putting off until the morrow all my duties, even the most pleasant of them.” - Baudelaire
Nominated for the Best American Essays by Hayden’s Ferry Review, the year 2025 came as such a SWEET VALIDATED SUPRISE to me; it's the type of unexpected turn of events that sometimes tells you- you are doing it and doing it your way.
I was recently accepted for the Bread Loaf Environmental Writer’s Conference to be held in Vermont with scholarship(!!! dreamy) and longlisted for the DISQUIET Poetry Prize 2025 and Virginia Center for the Creative Arts (VCCA) 2025 residency.
Also, here is the cherry on top: my hybrid poem is out in the spring issue of Puerto del Sol, one of my favorite magazines. I entered my MFA journey, reading Puerto magazine, and now I am published in it with a fantastic array of thinkers and academics! So grateful and blessed :)
Some day is here, now.
From the safety of my four insulated walls in Iowa, I am writing this letter amidst a mountain of shame, guilt, longing, and anticipation of fear that overshadows celebration. The sound of Cribs episodes where celebrities sashay through a stack of glass houses fills the background, tomato basil soup scorches my lips, and my inbox is bursting with life-affirming emails and incredible newsletters that I can't wait to dive into. I also have a box full of submissions to go through, and now that I am swimming weekly again, I am trying to read as much as I can, and there is another wall full of books waiting to be read—I am tired yet not spent.
I almost waste my time (as some around me say) staring at the sky, looking at constellations, or feeling depressed with the political and statelessness of this world we live in—but then, some days, I celebrate who I have become (as what my guardian spirits ask of me to do).
I also exhibit my celebration from time to time, yet these celebrations have become a shadow of my anticipations-
The above picture is from Mainframe Studios, Des Moines, where my multimedia painting was exhibited in February—a VISUAL ELEGY for my efforts as an artist and writer—the two cannot live without one another, and this exhibit was proof.
If you liked what you read and the work I put in this free yet not cheap letter, kindly consider gifting $$ via Venmo @belladonnaoflavender(THANK YOU FOR YOUR GENEROSITY) or by simply liking, commenting, and sharing this letter because I am always in search for more like-minded peeps to hold me and I to hold them <3
Wrote this letter listening to Dave Hollister - One Woman Man