Included Below: Ships / Ascension by Wonder / The Audacity / You Gotta Fight! / Fan Fiction. Click HERE for further information about this newsletter. To those from before and those who are new-
I. WELCOME
I’m thinking of sending a letter to a tree.
In northern Germany, near the Baltic Sea, there is an oak tree out beyond farmer’s fields that has helped hundreds of lonely people find love. This myth reaches all the way back to 1890, when two forbidden lovers left notes for each other in the knothole of the Bridegroom’s Oak. They eventually married, and by 1927, the tree was so overwhelmed with notes from people looking for love that the post office made the unusual decision to give it its own mailing address. There is only one rule: if you open a letter and don’t respond, you must place it back in the tree for someone else to find.
This month marks a year where some of us have been living alone, largely communicating and interacting with people through screens and masks. This has made me think a lot about relationships, friendships, all sorts of ships. With relationships, there are the big things we all think about - cohabitating, marriage, kids, etc. - but what about the little things? The witnessing of each other’s lives? Knowing another person in such an intimate way that they know you better than anyone? Someone who knows that you don’t like cilantro. Their morning routines. When they need some space and when you don’t.
I fear that I have quickly learned how to live without truly witnessing the intimate life of another. I fear that I will even forget what intimacy means and how to recognize it. But, I hope that I will remember as quickly as I forgot. So, maybe all that’s left is to send a letter in the mail to a grand old oak tree and hope that someone reads it. And since this was all such a bummer, I suggest reading the story about the Bridegroom's Oak - spoiler: it really does have a happy ending, somewhat.
Hello dear stranger, If you like to laugh, enjoy the quiet moments of life, then you should definitely contact me. When you’re alone, everything is half as much fun. — A letter left at the Bridegroom’s Oak, The Tree with Matchmaking Powers, The Atlantic.
II. TALES FROM THE DREAM ROOM
Each month welcomes an exclusive story from a parallel world.
The Dream Room is a place that where everything is interconnected. The sights and sounds and people that inhabit this world feel familiar. The tales pulled from the Dream Room are sometimes true and sometimes fiction, they may scare you or make you laugh. If you’re ready to enter, read the excerpt below and click on the link for the full story.
ASCENSION BY WONDER: After several weeks, we sat out on the porch with cups of tea. “It’s almost time,” The Musician said. “For what?” I asked.
“You see, I’ve taught you how to press records and how to operate the recording equipment. One thing we haven’t talked about is the music. This is the only time we’ll talk about it. The world is constantly changing, and it should change. It should evolve. But there are some things that people rely on. Rely on to get through difficult times because we all have difficult times. The music created between these walls has existed for almost a century, and it needs to continue, through all the change, it needs to endure. It is a responsibility that no one will know rests on your shoulders. All I can tell you is that the music must come through you. It doesn’t have to be perfect, actually imperfection is sometimes better, but you’ve got to listen to the world around you, take it in and digest it, and allow it to flow through you. And one day, someone will show up here, much in the way you did, and you will be released from your responsibility.”
The Musician stood up, put on his black fedora, and stepped off the porch. I watched him walk far into the distance until he was gone.
Read the whole story at this link.
Q - What are some things that you are passionate about?
III. PAUL’S PICKS.
A recommendation of something watched, read, or listened to.
I am still relatively new to newsletters and am finding my feet. It helps to read others. I’ve mentioned Roxane Gay’s podcast (Hear to Slay) before and she recently started her own newsletter called The Audacity. As Dr. Gay describes it: “People curate what they put from their lives into the public sphere but a good writer makes what they curate one hell of a story. That’s what I hope to do with this newsletter—tell one hell of a story about the world we’re living in, the culture we consume, the things that bring me joy, the things that infuriate me, the things I think we should talk about.”
In addition to regular posts from Dr. Gay, she features essays by emerging writers and is hosting a book club that includes works by underrepresented American authors. I always look forward to getting these emails and Dr. Gay’s writing continuously floors me with every posting. She is also so generous with her knowledge and just published this guide to sharing, processing, and healing from trauma through writing - Writing into the Wound: Understanding trauma, truth, and language.
This particular essay from the February newsletter about family and relationships, deeply resonated with me. She writes about being alone and finding love, but it’s not in a performative way, just authentic and honest:
I lived alone for many years. I dated but did not cohabitate. I became competent in basic life skills. Some of my relationships were very good, I remember them fondly, but earlier entanglements were with people who did not like me and were open in their contempt. There was something almost erotic about it. I somehow convinced myself I deserved that contempt. I convinced myself I was attracted to it and then I hated myself for that attraction. Sometimes, there would be other people in my home—friends hanging out, a lover spending the night—but mostly it was just me, only answering to myself. I arranged my things the way I wanted. I wrote late into the night and watched bad television. I concluded that I was going to die alone. I was being melodramatic, but I was living in the middle of nowhere, so my prospects for healthy, long-term companionship were pretty grim. Then Debbie came along. — Roxane Gay, from The Audacity.
Q - Do you have any newsletter recommendations?
IV. FROM THE ARCHIVES.
An old story brought to you in a new way.
YOU GOTTA FIGHT (December 22, 2019): This article was about the last live theatrical performance I saw before going into lockdown. I’ve been listening to Stars going on 20 years and was really blown away by this hybrid of part concert and part theatre. I miss live shows, especially comedy, improv, and plays. They have an affect on me unlike anything else, and I grasp on to a deep sense of hope that artists can hold in there and make it through. We are going to need them to help us make sense of the past year, to reflect it back to us, to unravel the confusion, anger, and pain.
This show was put on by Crow’s Theatre, a venue with great programming and one I found myself going to more and more. I know money is tight for a lot of people, but places like Crow’s Theatre appreciate any type of donation and support, big and small. Torquil Campbell (one of the lead singers of Stars) and Ali Momen are currently the podcasters-in-residence at Crow’s Theatre and you can listen to Soft Revolution wherever you get podcasts.
My heart goes out to all my artist friends and colleagues who are regulated to trying to make online shows work. It’s not easy, and a year (or probably more) is a big hole in the life of an artist. Keep fighting, for all of us. We’re all doing our best online, but there is just something about being in the same space as the performer. It does stuff like this:
And I lost it, sitting by myself at the very back corner of the theatre. I went to the show myself, as I often do. I like to not be a bother to anyone, and find a seat that no one wants. I crawled up all the way to the back and took the seat as far up as I could find. The way the lights were, I was in the darkness, like I wasn’t there. Fine by me. Torquil talked about his dad and when he was done, he stood up and scanned the crowd. He took the time to look from one end to the other, giving us the time and space to fully digest and process what he talked about. And he settled on me. Back in the corner. Look, I know there are theatre lights and as a performer, you can’t really see out in the crowd. He wasn’t looking at me, but it doesn’t matter. I felt him looking at me.
Read the whole story at this link.
Q - What was the last live performance you saw?
V. WATCH, LISTEN, READ, OR DO.
Something to take with you.
As a gift to myself, I got a Mystery Bag from my local bookstore, Type Books. You fill out a questionnaire and they curate a pile of books for you. One of those books was Pew by Catherine Lacey. I loved the book so much that I checked out other books by the same author and came across Nobody Is Ever Missing: “Without telling her family, Elyria takes a one-way flight to New Zealand, abruptly leaving her stable but unfulfilling life. Her risky and often surreal encounters propel her deeper into her deteriorating mind.”
I had to read this because I wrote a book called Dreams of Being a Kiwi, and is basically about a person escaping to New Zealand where risky and surreal encounters propel him deeper into his deteriorating mind. The parallels between the two books extends to more than just the story, but also in the way the main characters converses with themselves.
I told some friends about this and one suggested that I write some fan fiction involving these characters. Books have largely existed as silos to me, the characters living in their own worlds. However, I have to say, it was fun to imagine these two characters running into each other in New Zealand. Maybe they could have become friends? Maybe they could have helped each other?
These two books kind of really complement each other. If you’re so inclined, you can purchase a copy of Nobody is Ever Missing here and a copy of Dreams of Being a Kiwi here. If you have a Kindle, I would be happy to send you an ebook of Dreams of Being a Kiwi - just respond to this email.
I had heard, in the past, lots of people say that nothing has ever happened, that no one is here or not here, that no object is more than its action in a moment, and if all this business about the present moment is true, and I am still inclined to believe that it is true, then all I was at that moment was a set of senses held captive in a wet body in wet clothes in the piss of a cloud, stranded on the centre of a bridge and I was just that and nothing else, and the past, the recent past, and the less recent past were not a part of me, just something gathered around me, an audience for what I would do next. — Catherine Lacey, Nobody Is Ever Missing.
Q - When we can travel again and you have the means, where would you go first?
You’ve probably noticed that I’ve included a question at the end of each section. No, this isn’t required homework. However, if you are compelled to write to me with your thoughts, I would love to hear from you. Who knows, I might even share some of the answers in future newsletters (anonymously, of course). Email me here: jpd@pauldore.com.
February 2021 Edition: Connections / Storage Space / Small Axe / So Close / Stories We Don’t Tell Book.