twinkly

there is light ahead (there has to be)

dark and shimmering yule
the golden light at the end
the silver spark of a duel
a flicker in the frosted night
unrelentingly cool
by the break of the ice at
the sharp of the right tool
and beneath dressed firs
forgiven the longest fuel
something blessed just to burn
something dressed just to mourn
the quiet in the cold, the
silencing properties of snow
the infinity of a frozen forest
the liminality of the night at its purest
as luminous as the dark is old

it’s been a while since I’ve posted. it’s been a while since yule, too. things have been really hard! nothing is turning out the way we planned! I scream it into the void that is winter, and then I shrug.

if yule is the longest night, then light is ahead. that’s witch math.

I do feel a little lighter, but I resent that it is the kind of relief that comes when life beats you down over and over and teaches you in the hardest way, not to take it all so seriously.

since samhain, catherine had her baby shower; we celebrated thanksgiving; I went to the last zine fest on my tour; I went to a latte art throwdown; I had a bridal shower; we celebrated yule and then christmas and then new year’s. now that the holidays are over, I can finally slow down, as winter intended.

I mean, not a lot, because I have a bookbinding class on the twenty-second, a wedding to plan, a birthday to soak in, a career to create from thin air again, so so much to catch up on. I think I’ll spend years catching up from this season of life. some things take time.

my bridal shower theme was yule. we gathered in a cozy wine room for brunch. I made miniature yule log party favors. I wore a white tulle dress (on sale at anthro!!), white lace tights, a pink cashmere Kimchi Blue cardigan, a crescent moon necklace, my silver shoes. the beautiful women in my life (and Andrew) spoiled me and celebrated Jacob and me. afterwards, I had another round of rosé in the restaurant with three of my oldest friends and started to plan the bachelorette trip. it was a magic.

christmas was different this year. we stayed home instead of going to see my mom in texas for the first year since she moved there. we had breakfast with Jacob’s family and dinner with my dad and his wife and watched stranger things in between. it felt weird, not seeing my mom, but a lowkey holiday was a balm for my overstimulated soul.

Jacob and I followed our new year’s tradition of having a glass of champagne and going to bed on time. I put on my rhinestone skirt and lit a sparkler in the backyard just to see the shimmer and take some pictures (worth it). for breakfast new year’s day, I made us cortados at home (btw I got a home espresso machine, and it’s life-changing!) and a brekky charcuterie board with croissants, jam, and a sweet goat gouda. we had second breakfast at biscuit belly before seeing the stranger things finale at the theater. we got so many snacks too? I don’t know what we were thinking, but it was a nice day.

on yule, I built my altar. we walked the tinsel trail for five minutes. I rested. that was enough this year.

on my altar:

• yule log shower favors

• dusty rose fellow kettle

• violet glasses from Jacob’s mom and sister

• my 3rd place hoedown throwdown patch

• art sticker and matchbook by lavie

• the corsage my mom got me for my bridal shower

• zines from gobble gobble hey!

• cards from the shower

• new Altaria pokemon card

• chunks shooting star portrait barrettes (still need to print out some tiny pictures for them)

• coffee sleeve art by dylan

• angel blind box figurine from my sister

• tea from my Piper & Leaf advent calendar

• jam from my Bonne Maman advent calendar

• cherry blossom co-ferment coffee

• tiny clothespins from catherine’s baby shower

I’m rebuilding again. I’m finding my place at work again, meeting new people again, slowly leaving the house again, even more slowly starting to write again. the grief is lifting again. I ruined a lot of things, and a lot of things ruined me. last year taught me how to let go, or at least it tried. mostly I feel like it ripped my plans from my hands, clawed and bleeding.

we keep on. we don’t have much choice. suddenly, it’s the year we’ll marry. it’s another chance to make art, soak in the seasons, love more, go to more zine fests, visit new coffee shops. there is more ahead than behind; there has to be.

xo, teacup 🌟