Best mail day, etc.

It felt like my birthday when I went to the post office and picked up a package from Mend My Dress Press. Not only had they sent me the Isle Content Anthology by Alexis Wolf that I’d been looking forward to, they also sent A Traveling Song by Colleen Borst, a purple notebook, a telegram-themed notebook, a bunch of zines, and a little purple keyring (I’ve written about safety objects before, and I feel the need to note here that keyrings are a good little safety object to have; when I decided to move, I bought myself a Hello Kitty keyring to put on my new housekey, and now I have a purple one to put on my mailbox key), everything all wrapped up in tissue paper. Holding An Isle Content Anthology in my hands filled me with excitement for the upcoming publication of my own zine anthology; the creme pages of typewritten photocopies of stories & letters & prose were so unspeakably beautiful, and I was reminded that soon enough, I’ll be holding a book of my own creation in my hands, and sharing it with you. Dreamy!

Mend My Dress care package!

What else have I been up to lately? Learning how to do nothing, or do less. I’ve been so busy lately, writing my endless to-do lists, constantly working on various writing projects, dealing with my buzzing brain that never stops, yet always falling behind. I’ve also been getting my shit together to move next week. Busy bee! Anyway, I need to calm down. I need to stop thinking that I need to do & write everything immediately. What I wanna do the most right now is get everything together for the making of my book, catch up on my boxful of snail mail & unread zines, hang out with my cats, hang out with my partner, and create a new home. I’m really looking forward to Autumn!

My diary, flowers, amethyst. Writing about dreams, dresses, and writing.

Hostas growing in Dave Cave’s front yard.

Marigolds in Dave Cave’s backyard.

Dave Cave’s new home.

I often take pictures of houses I find intriguing, and I imagine my life there, if the house were mine, or if only a little corner of the house were mine. A couple weeks ago, before I went to Lindsay, I spent the day in Toronto and went to a Picasso exhibit at the Art Gallery of Ontario. Across the street from the gallery was a café where I had a delicious french vanilla coffee, and a few doors down was a gorgeous yellow & purple house with a cat in the window. And of course I got lost in daydreams of everything I could do with that house if only it were mine.

A dreamy house in Toronto.

Amélie and Lily-Biscuit snuggling in my bed.

I also want to share this article with you, Going Public with Depression, especially this quote:

Now, 25 years later, I’ve lost too much time and too many people to feel any shame about the way my psyche is built. How from time to time, for no good reason, it drops a thick, dark jar over me to block out air and love and light, and keeps me at arm’s length from the people I love most.

The pain and ferocity of the bouts have never eased, but I’ve lived in my body long enough to know that while I’ll never “snap out of it,” at some point the glass will crack and I’ll be free to walk about in the world again. It happens every time, and I have developed a few tricks to remind myself of that as best I can when I’m buried deepest.

What have you been up to lately? What are your plans for Autumn? What do you wanna do before Summer ends?

Dreamily Yours,

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