Letters from the Homestead: July 2022
'Brontë Sister House Party' opens this month! Also, palmistry is neat.
Emily Dickinson called her Amherst home “The Homestead.” I lovingly call my apartment in St. Louis the same thing (although I definitely get out more than Dickinson). This monthly newsletter is my attempt to work through what it feels like to put down roots as a writer in my own Homestead. In it, I’m honest about what’s saving my life right now, what’s hard, and what I’m pouring my energy into.
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Brontë Sister House Party opens on August 17! 🎈
The time has come to party with the Brontë sisters.
Brontë Sister House Party has been in the works for 1.5 years, first with St. Louis Shakespeare Festival and now with SATE. This joyful party-play will run August 17-27, Wednesdays through Saturdays. Tickets are on sale now!
This has been an especially fun process for me because I’ve gotten to be in the room for every rehearsal. And that right there is such a gift. But it’s also a little confusing because I keep forgetting that I wrote the play. Yes, that may sound ridiculous, but it’s true. My brain tends to move from project to project very quickly, and sometimes this means I move on before I have a full sense of what it is I’ve made.
The way this shows up with writing a play is that I’ll watch a rehearsal and be like, “Wow, yeah, don’t remember writing that at all.”
I expect to watch opening night and be surprised the whole way through. And that’s just the way I like it.
While sitting in rehearsals, I’ve been working on a *secret project* while the ensemble rehearses. It’s amazing how much energy comes from watching people rehearse your work. It makes me want to make more work. So, yeah, spoiler alert: the *secret project* is part play, part something else. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever made. Which is good.
If you are a St. Louis-area friend, I hope that you will join us in purgatory for Brontë Sister House Party!
A list of things that are saving my life right now…
Befriending squirrels. At the beginning of the summer, my great hope was to befriend the neighborhood crows that fly over my apartment every day. Crows are fascinating creatures, and I got it in my head that they would choose me. Yeah, well, they didn’t. Instead, the squirrels came, and I decided not to fight it anymore.
I call them all “Frank.”
It’s weird how a morning ritual of interacting with a wild animal perks you up. They are both unpredictable and incredibly dependable. They show up every day. They are patient. They appear out of nowhere. They learn the sound of your screen door. They never fully trust you because you will never be fully trustworthy. It’s nice—I didn’t think it would be this nice, but it’s nice.
Learning how to do a tarot pull. I don’t have a lot of experience with tarot cards, even though I’ve got plenty of witchy pursuits. But my friend Emma inspired me to start doing one every day, just to get more familiar with the cards. So, while I eat my breakfast at the dining room table, I pull three cards: 1) what do I think is happening? 2) what is actually happening? 3) what should I do about it?
It’s simple and interesting and starts my day with a centering activity. On the plus side, it’s helping me learn the cards better, and I love that.
Pimento Cheese Sandwiches. This is one of the most southern things about me. I love a pimento cheese sandwich. Just pimento cheese on wheat bread (even better if it’s toasted). It has to be sliced in half (not diagonal) or it’s not right. It’s the purest kind of comfort food.
Volunteering. In the wake of Roe being overturned, I’ve found a lot of solace in volunteering as a clinic escort (coming up on two years of this!) and with an abortion access text line. I’m trying very hard not to lose hope. Showing up in these tangible ways helps so much.
Printing out physical pictures. Early this month, I visited with my family in Tennessee, and I took plenty of pictures that I wanted to frame or put on my fridge. To be honest, this is not an impulse I’ve had in my entire adult life. But something about being in my mid-thirties has changed things in this department… This picture below is one of the pictures I printed out, framed, and put on my mantlepiece.
A newbie palm reader who can’t stop looking at other people’s hands…
Summertime is for new hobbies, that’s what I say.
I wish I could tell you the origin of this new mini-hobby of reading palms, but I honestly can’t remember. (Hello, I am a Sagittarius.) One minute, I was googling things on the internet about palmistry, and the next thing I knew, a big book about hand reading arrived from Jeff Bezos.
I started reading it casually, but then I was engrossed. This is how it goes with the honeymoon stage of all hobbies: you find a new thing and then suddenly the new thing is your whole personality. Maybe that’s just me? Or maybe that’s just mania talking? Whatever the impetus, I like knowing things. Especially weird things.
Palmistry is one of the oldest forms of divination, and I’m a big fan of how the whole process lacks the bells and whistles of other fortune-telling set-ups. All you need is someone who is willing to let you hold their hand.
But a funny side effect of learning about palmistry is that I can’t stop looking at other people’s hands. Whenever I see someone, I immediately look at the carriage of their fingers and (if I can catch a glimpse) the inside of their palm. It’s a strange thing to be looking for when I’m around people, but I just can’t stop.
I like to think that I have a healthy relationship with most divination-adjacent things. I believe everything and also nothing. This helps a lot, actually.
But do you know what I like the most about divination, whether it be an I-Ching or palm reading? I love how just paying attention to someone gets them to tell you who they are. This also works if they tell you that your reading is completely wrong. Whatever the outcome, people usually tell you something they wish others knew about them.
That’s the real gift of the whole racket, regardless of if it’s true.
What I’m reading this month…
I forgot to take my usual picture of the books I’m reading for the month. But I’m so tired from spending so much time at play rehearsals that I don’t have the energy to do it. Also, there’s zero fiction on this month’s reading round-up. I’m unsure what to make of that?
The Art and Science of Hand Reading: Practical Methods for Self-Discovery through Palmistry by Ellen Goldberg and Dorian Bergen. See above. This is the book I’m using to introduce me to palm-reading. It’s weird and unusual and exactly the kind of summer distraction I need.
Daybook: The Journal of an Artist by Anne Truitt. I pick up this book once in a blue moon, and I’m always glad that I do. The sculptor and painter Annie Truitt did an amazing job of writing her way through her creative life, never hesitating to include all the boring bits (bills, cooking, etc). If you like reading the section of this newsletter where I tell you how I make money as a working artist, then you’ll really dig Truitt’s book.
The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity by Julia Cameron. I read this book every year. Now, my sister-in-law Michelle and I are reading it at the same time. I love how this book recharges me, and, this time around, I’m especially struck by Cameron’s stories of her sobriety and how this has impacted her creative output. An oldie but a goodie.
How I made month this month $$$
I believe freelance artists should be more upfront about how they support themselves financially, rather than maintaining the illusion that they are fully supported by their art (they usually aren’t). This is me attempting to live out that principle. So, here are all the ways I brought in money to the Homestead for the month of July.
Facilitating online graduate literature courses. This picks up in the summer because I’m mainly teaching secondary educators who are looking to get certified for different courses or get a pay bump for the next academic year. I’m spending a lot of my day job time grading papers these days.
Workshop reading for my artist friend Evangeline. My friend Evangeline is working on a new play, and she invited me to be a part of the workshop reading. It’s so fun to help others make cool things.
Teaching artist work for Prison Performing Arts. I’ve been helping these artists develop a showcase play that features their writing over the past few years. This play will go up in October in St. Louis.
Romance Novel writing. I’ve pulled back from romance writing this month to make room for all this grading, but I’m still on contract to write Lady and the Camper Van. I’ll finish this one by the end of August.
Paid Substack subscriptions. Thank you to all my paid subscribers. I’m so grateful for your support of my work.
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Don’t stop fighting.
July has been a hard month. I’m still reeling from the loss of my bodily autonomy in Missouri (abortion care is now 100% illegal in my state), but I’m trying to keep fighting in small ways: volunteering, continuing to make new work, and taking care of myself and my mental health so that I’m always prepared to fight.
I hope that you’re taking care of yourself, too, friend.
Tonight starts a new month.
Yours ever & etc., etc.,
Courtney, Mistress of the Homestead, and Noble Midge the Cat 🐈⬛
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toasting the pimento cheese sandwich is essential. Too squishy otherwise. Cheers to a hard month survived. Onward.
Your southern roots run deep sugar! I had a pimento cheese sandwich this week (toasted).