you’ve always been warm and good and honey and fennel
a long ramble consisting of the /point/ of these notes, my day yesterday, and my siblings. filled to the brim with love, i'll fill up your teacup.
hello my friend[s],
i hope you’re doing well and you’re safe and happy. are you making sure to bundle up when you go outside? you’re not forgetting a scarf and mittens if you need them? i don’t want you to catch a cold. it’s a bit hypocritical of me to say though, considering all the windows in our house are still open..
it’s 3:51 pm and i’m sitting on my couch watching kiki’s delivery service and drinking juice. it’s cloudy today and a big storm is supposed to come tomorrow. there are dishes in my sink that need to be washed, my bed needs to be made, there are sweaters littering my bedroom floor that need to get hung up. for now, though, i’ll sit and watch my movie and leave you a note for whenever you have the chance to read it.
***
i know i say take care all the time but i sometimes really forget how much of a difference taking care makes. the last week has been the busiest of this semester and won’t get easy until december and honestly, i don’t mind it that much. the issue is that it’s /so/ easy to prioritize productivity over personal wellness. while my assignments were getting done, my hair was getting greasier and my sleep was getting shorter and my fridge was getting emptier and i saw less and less of the sun.
let me tell you about my day yesterday- i had a free day. it was glorious. i slept long long long then got up and made a pot of coffee. i made a big, weird breakfast clearing out everything left in my fridge. i put on a nice outfit, grabbed our old lady shopping trolly which i <3 love <3, put on a playlist, and went shopping. i started off at the local korean market which is where i like to buy most of my food. i got pork belly and ginseng and beansprouts and pickled radish and more. i filled up my shopping trolly. then i went to the grocery store and got all the other random things like soap and milk and chocolate. [on tuesday i’ll go to the farmers market on campus for good, cheap, local produce and fresh bread]. from there, i went to a bookstore to pick up a special order [devotions by mary oliver. if you know, you /know/]. the sun was shining shining shining to say hello\the wind was blowing my hair in every direction\ the cold wind was making me love my jacket.
and god i was happy. i love being happy. i used to feel guilt when i happy, now, i just feel happy when i’m happy.
what did you do yesterday? were you happy? were you taken care of? give thanks to whoever cared for you, a family member, a friend, yourself.
i’ve been thinking about how maybe i’ve been talking about myself too much in these notes. but then i think again and i think i’m being ridiculous. these notes i treat like an open diary for whoever wants to read them.
here’s the thought process:
/i like to read things by other people [ about themselves like an open diary or conversation or a piece that’s theirs but not directly about them]
/i like to hear stories and thoughts no matter the way they’re shared
/i like to tell my stories and i’ll probably tell them no matter what
/i could either write my story with almost no feeling or i could write them the way my brain intends them\\ with personal pronouns and run-on sentences and less editing than i honestly should do
/i like it (the personal touch)
/it makes it human. it adds a warmth akin to cardamom and toasted cinnamon
/that all began with the letter i
/why should i think that no one could feel those things about my notes?
now, when i feel unsure about what i write, i think about that poetry podcast i like, the one with the irish guy, you know the one? i love it because even though i don’t even know the name of the host off the top of my head, he’s the reason i like james wright [even though, ironically, i know he’s not a big fan]. this host tells stories. he adds a human warmth to poems by sharing a related story about himself, and i could and have listened to him for hours. if you want more stories, i highly recommend them, my dear.
i think it’s time for a new story, don’t you? now, it comes to no one’s surprise that i absolutely love my siblings. they are my favourite people in the entire world and i would quite literally do anything for them. i know i talk a lot about honeyed words but i really think they have the sweetest.
last night 4/5 of us (the older ones) were all texting each other. the five of us are spread over four places right now, one on the west, one in the south, two in the middle, one in the east. going from point to point is a distance of 14,511 km. it’s awful, really. thankfully, we talk constantly, they send me paintings and poems, i send them recipes, we share our daily outfits, we find similarities in our day [today’s was eating peanut butter toast and playing
liability by lorde on various instruments]. they are my definition of distance makes the heart grow fonder {i didn’t even know i could get any fonder of them}
here are a few things they have said {to me and to each other}
I want to kiss u on ur forehead in the berenstain bears treehouse
I want to weave you my own spider web
I want to make you the warmest vegan egg drop soup when you get home on a winter day
I can’t wait to share my love with yall
“take a shot everytime p says goodnight but doesn’t leave”
“i don’t wanna miss out on the convo”
“she just has so much love in her heart”
can we eat fennel and hummus when you get back?
you’ve always been warm and good and honey and fennel
[context: do i show my love for you guys in a consistent way?] the ocean is still beautiful, i don’t care if its high tide or low tide
having people who love with their full heart is one of the most wonderful things in life. living unconditionally is so easy to do when you let yourself.
they give me proof that souls exist.
/////what else could feel so warm when they talk?
/they’re all the proof i need
here are some poems from devotions that make me think of them.
that little beast
That pretty little beast, a poem,
has a mind of its own.
Sometimes I want it to crave apples
but it wants red meat.
Sometimes I want to walk peacefully
on the shore
and it wants to take off all its clothes
and dive in.
Sometimes I want to use small words
and make them important
and it starts shouting the dictionary,
the opportunities.
Sometimes I want to sum up and give thanks,
putting things in order
and it starts dancing around the room
on its four furry legs, laughing
and calling me outrageous.
But sometimes, when I'm thinking about you,
and no doubt smiling,
it sits down quietly, one paw under its chin,
and just listens.
i have just said
I have just said
something
ridiculous to you
and in response,
your glorious laughter.
These are the days
the sun
is swimming back
to the east
and the light on the water
gleams
as never, it seems, before.
I can’t remember
every spring,
I can’t remember
everything—
so many years!
Are the morning kisses
the sweetest
or the evenings
or the inbetweens?
All I know
is that “thank you” should appear
somewhere.
So, just in case
I can’t find
the perfect place—
“Thank you, thank you.”
the gift
[…]So, be slow if you must, but let
the heart still play its true part.
Love still as once you loved, deeply
and without patience. Let God and the world
know you are grateful.
That the gift has been given.
drifting
I didn’t intend to start thinking about God,
it just happened.
How God, or the gods, are invisible,
quite understandable
But holiness is visible, entirely.
It’s wonderful to walk along like that,
thought not the usual intention to reach an
answer
but merely drifting.
and here is a poem they have sent to me
serenade
Here's your letter the old portable
Pecked out so passionately as to crack
The larynx. I too dream of "times
We'll share." Across the river: MUTUAL LIFE.
Flush of a skyline. Owning up to past
Decorum, present insatiety,
Let corporate proceedings one by one
Be abstracted to mauve onionskin,
Lit stories rippling upside down in thought
Be stilled alike of drift and personnel,
Then, only then, the lyric I-lessness
At nightfall banked upon renew
Today's unfolder. Whose lips part. Heard now
In his original setting~-voice and reeds-
As music for a god, your page
Asks to be held so that the lamp shines through
And stars appear instead of periods.
is there a point to my story? just to share some love. i feel so blessed and i want to share it with you. counting my blessing right before the storm comes tomorrow. i can’t wait to go back home. please, tell me about your home. are you there? are you desperate to return? does it make your heartache?
somehow its 6:01 pm now, the sun has set without me noticing. soon i’ll get up and wash those dishes in my sink, probably read more of my book, perhaps go visit a friend, hopefully, do some more homework, start a new crossword. i’ll add a postscript to this note with some paintings i’ve been loving and some more words i can taste,.., i’ll leave you with supplementary readings.
i hope you had a good sunday, i hope you felt some sunshine on your toes, i hope you ate a good lunch, i hope you receive some unconditional love [scratch that, i know you have received some unconditional love because the only purpose of my notes is to gift you love, i just hope you got as much as you need]. i’ll peel you a pomegranate. i’ll comb my fingers through your hair.
be soft and have love. don’t forget to buddle up when it gets cold. i’m proud of you. your heart is good. i love you.
xx delphi
p.s. a few songs i think you’d like
ode to a conversation stuck in your throat by del water gap
devotions : a playlist by tata! [author of devotions the newsletter which inspired this one]
JANNABI’s small pieces I by JANNABI
BE by bts [happy one year anniversary to this album :’)] [special love to the first three songs on it]
p.p.s a few extra words
p.p.p.s
art by this user
you have absolutely filled my teacup, sweet delphi.
i smiled at your mention of devotions, of peeling pomegranates, of the irish guy on the poetry podcast.
i listen to that podcast almost every morning now. while i eat my breakfast.
emma chamberlain and lexie lombard are for when i do my makeup. and then i go upstairs to cook breakfast. and irish poetry guy is always there ready for me when im ready to eat.
i enjoyed reading about your siblings. and their sweet words.
there is always a glow in your words and your stories when you mention your siblings.
they sound just as lovely as you with their soft, buttery words.
it makes me wish i was as close to my sibling as you are with yours.
but instead i look for that warm relationship in the people i surround myself with.
and i have absolutely found that within you.
<3
p.s. looking forward to bumping into you on campus like we always seem to do. xx