UNAPOLOGETICALLY CREATIVE
Coping Strategies, The Most Inspiring Project Runway Alum, Art Keeps Us Young, Cool Stuff from Fellow Stackers
If you enjoy this post, hit the ♥️ button, leave a comment, or restack. Those actions help others discover my work. Thank you!
Hiya Friends,
Hope everyone is hanging in, especially my fellow Angelenos. It’s been heartbreaking and devastating to witness the destruction from the fires here in my beautiful home town. A few of our friends and countless former colleagues, acquaintances, and strangers have lost their homes. While we are safe and still have a roof over our heads, I can’t say that we’re "okay."
On the one hand, I’m relieved that thousands of people managed to escape the flames and make it to safety. The outpouring of generosity during this time of crisis has been an incredible sight to behold. I’m beyond grateful to the fire fighters, first responders, local businesses, civilians, and non-profit organizations working 24/7 to keep everyone out of harm’s way, fed, clothed, and comforted.
At the same time, though I’ve donated to several GoFundMes, delivered supplies and meals, and baked a cake for fire victims, I’m gutted, rattled, and plagued by a sense of helplessness. My brain isn’t functioning at full capacity. It’s difficult to focus on any one task. Writing this post hasn’t been easy. If I’m not carb-loading, or struggling to remember what day it is, or monitoring the Watch Duty app to keep tabs on the fire containment, I’m trying to figure out what I should be doing to help someone in need.
Last week, bits of ash rained from the sky and covered everything in a layer of white flecks and grey soot. We dug out our Covid masks and changed the filters in the air purifiers. Our house (circa 1923) is old and drafty, and there’s a gap under the front door that Jared has attempted to seal off with a bath towel—not the most effective preventative measure when you’re opening and closing the door all day. According to the air quality index on the weather app, the air is suddenly all clear (nothing to see here, folks!), but medical experts disagree.
“Homes and buildings are full of all kinds of materials that are toxic when burned—plastics, oil products, asbestos, metals—and the Air Quality Index does not pick up on that. Another limitation is in the unpredictable, shifting winds. You don't know if the air quality data that you're viewing is up to date. What may be an ‘acceptable’ level of air pollution one minute may be a very different level half an hour later. It's the unknown that makes this situation so dangerous,” said said pulmonologist Jeremy Falk, MD, associate professor of Medicine at Cedars-Sinai.
A couple of days ago, the city passed a temporary ban on leaf blowers to avoid kicking up and spreading dangerous particulate matter. Now, every time I hear the whir of a motor, I flap around the house like Chicken Little and stare out the window in horror as a gardener (who clearly didn’t get the memo) blasts a stream of toxic brown dust and debris hither, thither, and yon.
Meanwhile, there are people hell-bent on politicizing this tragedy and/or reveling in the destruction of "Lib-land." What is clear is that disasters bring out the very best and the very worst in people. It saddens me that some folks prefer to point fingers and rant and rave rather than lend a hand. I can only hope that these poor souls recover from whatever trauma has made them incapable of empathy, and perhaps, some day, they will manage to scrape away the crust from their cold, dead hearts.
The fires are not yet fully contained. This crisis is far from over. We desperately need rain. It’s going to take years to rebuild our city. But we will do it. LA is strong. Every day, Angelenos are rallying to support one another. Donation centers are inundated with volunteers and supplies. Friends and strangers have opened their doors to host displaced fire victims and their pets. Groups of concerned citizens have grabbed shovels and rakes to go and clear brush.
This really is a City of Angels. It’s the only city I’ve ever lived in (and I’ve lived in a few) where I know all my neighbors and we look out for each other. It’s also one of the most unapologetically creative places in the world. Here you’re free to pursue your dream without judgement. Whether you be a juggler, a potter, a psychic, a mime, an author, a glass blower, a tap dancer, a banjo player, an actor, or a ______ (fill in the blank), LA welcomes you and cheers you on. Even if you never make it to the big time (and very few do), you will feel a sense of belonging in this town that I’m not sure exists anywhere else in the world.
If you’re able to help with resources or donations, tons of people, pets, and wildlife are displaced and need assistance. More info listed here.
MY COPING STRATEGIES
ONE DAY YOU’RE IN. THE NEXT DAY, YOU’RE OUT.
I won’t lie. Even before the fires, what with the inauguration looming, and other tragic world events, I was having a hard time keeping it together. Jared walked in one day and found me glued to the TV, yet again. “You’ve been watching a lot of Project Runway lately,” he said in a voice that sounded mildly concerned for my mental health. It’s true. I have been watching a lot of Project Runway. Netflix recently added some old seasons to the platform that I’d never seen. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t watch TV during daylight hours. But after the election, I gave myself permission to not GAF and medicate as needed; Project Runway is my drug of choice.
For the record, I don’t follow fashion. I can’t tell you which fashion designer works for which house or anything about the latest runway trends. Still, I absolutely adore Project Runway — the reality competition where a group of fashion designers compete to win $250K to help build their businesses.
There’s something about watching a designer sketch an idea, piece together a garment, and deal with extreme anxiety and frustration that reminds me to embrace the creative process and take risks no matter the outcome. Throwing down the silk charmeuse and giving up isn’t really an option on PR. Even when contestants are plagued with self doubt, or the garment is held together with hot glue and straight pins, the designers can’t send the model down the runway naked, so needs must. Sometimes the risk pays off and sometimes it doesn’t. Or as they say on Project Runway, “One day you’re in. The next day, you’re out.”
Former PR contestants admit that the schedule on the show is punishing. The challenges are often back-to-back and the designers get little to no sleep. These people are physically, emotionally, and creatively exhausted. Competing on this show is an endurance test best taken on by youngins, unless you’re Nancy Volpe Beringer—the oldest contestant to ever appear on the show at age 64.
I loved Nancy’s down-to-earth vibe the minute she appeared on screen in Season 18. Early on, she reveals that at age 58 (!!), she decided to give up her corporate career and go back to school to study fashion design. As far as I can gather, the only “fashion” experience Nancy had prior to enrolling in the Master’s program at Drexel University was a few sewing lessons at age 11. Honestly, she’s a wonder and an inspiration. She tried out for Project Runway three times before getting cast. The tenacity of this woman is astounding! If you haven’t watched the show, I won’t reveal too many spoilers except that one of Nancy’s challenges involves designing a dress for an athlete who uses a wheelchair. That’s when Nancy discovers her passion for designing adaptable clothes for people with mobility issues.
When I Googled Nancy to see what she’s been up to, eerily I found out that she lost her home and studio to an electrical fire in 2020. Later that year, she established The Vault, "the world's only luxury resale platform that offers complimentary adaptive options for the disabled.” Isn’t she the best? I’m so in awe of Nancy fearlessness and talent. She’s proof that it’s never too late to live the dream and make a positive impact in an industry that has never cared about inclusivity. In fact, I’d say the allure of high fashion and haute couture is its inaccessibility. What a way to change the game, Nancy. Brava.
THE 30-DAY DRAWING CHALLENGE
While we’re on the “never too late” subject, I’m on a kick to learn how to really draw. I’ve always been a doodler and believe that drawing helps me think and absorb information. In high school and college, I took drawing classes and art classes, but I’ve never been consistent nor developed a practice. Last year I participated in Wendy MacNaughton’s 30-Days of Drawing challenge on Substack and I loved it so much, I signed up again this year.
Every day during the month of January, Wendy assigns a ten-minute drawing exercise to inspire and delight us. Once we complete our drawings, we’re encouraged to share our work in the group chat. The guiding principle of the challenge is to let go of perfectionist tendencies and enjoy the process. I’m not sure how many of us are signed up, but some days there are over 500 comments in the group chat. All the participants are incredibly supportive and today, I was tickled yellow to see my lemon drawing (the third one on the right above) included in the gallery that Wendy posted with today’s lesson! 😍
Yesterday, Wendy shared a video that’s been making the rounds. In it, Jane Fonda, age 86, and her friend Ashton Applewhite (the pro-aging guru) explain that a positive attitude, community involvement, and taking art classes can add 7.5 years to your life. I wrote about that study in a previous post as well. Watch the video if you have a few minutes.
A BIT OF HOPE
Last night, I attended a friend’s 60th birthday dinner. I’ll admit, I didn’t want to go. I worried I wouldn’t really know anyone outside of the guest of honor, and I wasn’t feeling particularly social. A recent article in The Atlantic titled “The Anti-Social Century” warns that this trend to avoid leaving the house and celebrating when plans are canceled is “making society weaker, meaner, and more delusional.” I’ve actually seen evidence of this in people I know who spend too much time alone, so I put on a cute outfit and headed to the party.
Since the birthday plan came together at the last minute, I didn’t expect a big turnout. Boy, was I wrong. The proprietor of the Indian restaurant kept pushing tables together until our lot stretched from one end of the room to the other. When my friend arrived and saw the room packed with about thirty of his friends, he got a bit weepy.
As predicted, I didn’t know anyone save for my friend, but I had the best time chatting with folks seated nearby. One guy, who’d been in a successful metalcore band as a teenager, said he’d been reading his old journals from his time on the road and wanted to do something with them. I encouraged him to transcribe that material and put it out there, either on Substack or somewhere else. Another guy regaled us with stories like the time he saw Prince at a secret show at the Palladium with only 20 people in attendance. A funny young woman explained that she’d put all her dietary restrictions into ChatGPT to figure out which entree on the menu would best suit her needs. The answer was Shrimp Vindaloo, to which the metalcore guy replied, “Do they even eat shrimp in India?” Lol. I’m certain that if that woman had really thought about a healthy entree, she would’ve come to the same conclusion without the help of AI. Nevertheless, she seemed to enjoy a robot telling her what to eat and who am I to judge?
What I loved about the night was that it truly represented a microcosm of Los Angeles. People traveled from all over the county to this sleepy restaurant east of Hollywood to celebrate an old friend, and likely made a new one in the process.
Today, as I walked to tap dance class, the sun bright in the sky, I spotted at least twenty goldfinches crowded around my neighbor’s feeder, just chirping away. As a city, we are grieving unimaginable loss, but the heart of Los Angeles beats on.
RECOMMEND READING!
My friend Sanjiv Bhattacharya wrote an excellent piece about the LA fires for the New Statesman. And check out his Stack, Minority Report here.
In solidarity with Los Angeles, friend and fellow Stacker, Jules Pickering shared a beautiful post and the song “Paprika Plains” by Joni Mitchell to try to help us conjure some much-needed rain. Check out the post below!
I’ve been reading the very poignant and funny memoir “Gotham Girl Interrupted” by the wonderfully witty Alisa Kennedy Jones—the writer behind the Stack, Gotham Girl. The book tells the story of Alisa’s journey navigating a later-in-life severe seizure disorder that left her temporarily unable to speak. Highly recommend!
Friend and fellow Stacker, Autumn Widdoes has a beautiful essay about her move to Las Vegas in the collection Desert Bloom. Check out her Stack and get your copy of the book here.
My friend Nancy Norbeck, writer of The Spark on Substack is teaching her Make Bad Art course starting on Monday, January 20. It’s designed to help you stop contorting yourself to meet others’ expectations so you can get in touch with yourself again. More info here.
Whenever I entertain at home, I alway set the table with the fine china I inherited from my Great Aunt Shirley. The dishes are decadent, with gold trim and delicate pink flowers that remind me of Shirley or “Aunt Shoo” as we called her—my grandma’s oldest and sweetest sister. These days, nobody wants fine china anymore. Young couples getting hitched prefer to register for honeymoon cash or a jet ski. A recent piece in the New York Times details the history of fine china and one woman’s struggle to preserve the set passed down to her through five generations. It’s a great read and details the rise and fall of fancy dishes. Free gift link here.
Okay, that’s a wrap for today. Thanks for being here. You all brighten my day. xo
It’s great to hear you’re finding ways through this Hilary. I’ve been thinking of you in LA. I love the drawing challenge and certainly relate to binging on PR.
Take care, keep celebrating the good and the goldfinches.
As always, your writing cheered me up and inspired me. You’re a treasure!