Hard to believe we are in the middle of August and just a few weeks away from Labor Day weekend - the bookend of summer.
Coworkers of mine, before we were remote, listened to a similar statement as I pulled up my chair with coffee, month after month, “Ah, can’t believe it’s October 1,” and sometimes again mid-month, “Wow, Halloween is only 15 days away.” It’s on my mind even more now.
Time stopped in 2020, and then it elongated, stretching far. The world reopened, and time snapped as if the timeline was within an imaginary rubber band. Now we are halfway through 2021 shaking our heads. “Hard to believe it’s… [ ]”
I entered a wedding vortex this summer and watched the couples wait an additional year or so after their original date- replanning, conversing on the replanning, waiting. Finally, the wedding comes. Queue a whirlwind of glass clinking, dancing, toasting, and saying goodbyes. Even as a guest, it’s like watching smoke evaporate after blowing out a candle. The weekend over-poof. A drifting memory.
Life is one long vanishing moment, like a snowflake falling into our hands. It melts away before we can grip it, but we feel its presence on our palm. There is another falling to observe.
When I review my writing from the pandemic, my favorite notes are when I wrote about a particular moment in time. What if recording moments in language is a tangible way to strengthen our relationship to time? We appreciate Timehop reminders of photos from years ago, but something about the written word lends us additional depth into a memory.
Not all readers to the Tea consider themselves writers, but that doesn’t matter. I mentioned in another Tea that my friend, a financial advisor, left-brained, and self-declared-non-writer writes a sentence a day in a journal.
I capture imperfect phrases on my notes app or send an IMessage to myself when I want to remember a line someone said or a specific quick moment.
Below is an excerpt of texts from the day walking through New Orleans with my dad. I remember the names of the places I visited and what we ate. I wrote his 61st birthday card from blue bubble texts.
Botany lessons from Chuck and Grace, Penny Martin Roses, Daiquiri, Split Banh Mi, Split Oyster Po Boy, Split Barracuda Tacos. Dutch, we go vegetarian dutch.
Here are texts I sent myself from a best friend’s wedding: ‘Hey Jim, you played us with the rain,’ best friends-no one questions, Sue’s shoulder lace, cups of tequila (& milk?), it shined in between.
These fragments, lists, quotes, notes are pleasurable to look back on. When we notice, and stop briefly on a mini-moment, we pull ourselves into the power of an active memory before it passes. We work with time by observing and enjoying. Saving details helps us discover moments in our daily lives that bring joy, in order to build in more.
Your creativity does not need to fit into a box, but sometimes it’s affirming to know when it does. Zuihitsu, a Japanese writing genre encompasses these fragments of texts, observations, lists, letters, diary entries, and notes. This form dates back to 1000 AD. I learned about it in a recent writing course at Poetry Forge.
The class studied American poet Kamiko Hahn who used the technique in her collection The Narrow Road to the Interior. She described the form as a “disorder that feels integral.” Or another, “This “space” includes all of those traits women have been assigned, usually with negative connotations: subjectivity, intuition, irrationality (what short essays or lack of formal structure might suggest). What is wrong with subjectivity anyway? My facts. The Fact of my experience.”
One fragment of Hahn’s: “The smell of hibiscus. Gardenia. I think of my grandmother.”
Do you have any or want to try jotting some down this summer? Holly, Poetry Forge’s founder, asked each student to provide a sentence to collect at the end of the course. I'm borrowing this idea. If you want, share a fragment with me. I’ll make an anonymized list of Tea reader’s summer notes for another newsletter.
If you want more reasons to capture fragments/notes here is a list of ways you can use them.
Send it in a postcard or in a gift to someone
Write it out in an email instead of the usual “my weekend was great!” Friends love details (clients too)
Tweet it
Use it as an Instagram caption/TikTok video
Place the note in a photo book if you build one for an experience
Put it in a journal or on your Google calendar to look back on
Text it in a group chat after
Save it as your iPhone or computer background
Thank you for being a part of the Tea. I feel lucky to throw ideas out into the ether and have them land to some readers.
Enjoy your August. Get a summer ‘21 fragment in!
Xx
Colleen
https://poetryschool.com/new-courses/follow-brush-making-zuihitsu-poetry/
https://www.poetryforge.us/
After the storm: dead ash trees on the roads, new air, and steel colored waves.
Seeing old school friends at the beach: from 20 yards I recognized Pilar’s smile, though it had been 20 years.
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We found a baby snapping turtle and returned it to Tucker Lake.
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After dinner we got ice cream cones at Laker Shakes.
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Driving home we saw five deer and two sandhill cranes.
I love goldfinch! I saw one this morning at Morton arboretum and it made my morning so I especially loved your poem today.