It’s like thunder. Lightening. The way you tell stories is exciting.
I think we should cue song, “Knock on Wood,” but not the original one by Otis Redding, or the Tina/Ike one, but the disco one with brassy horns and vibe.
Not that your writing is disco. It’s celebratory like disco.* Yet at the same time your writing has an evergreen feeling.
How cool would it be to revisit all your work in a coffee table book?
“I’m going to have say it—if only to plant a seed,” I say.
The above has been a preceding thought each time I manage to comment on your beautiful work.
It goes to show we have a nostalgia for nostalgia and your is your matter.
(That was a riff off of Ursula K. Le Guin’s “Words Are My Matter.”)
💋
—
*Oddly: Just when I think the 70s and disco is dead, it kinda comes back. I mean, what was Jesse Ware thinking? I start seeing bellbottoms and music gets that hustly beat. I thought I escaped it completely in the 90s but I’ve seen it emerge after Grunge.
Comparing my words to disco is, I'd say, one of the best compliments I've received! Thank you, Tess. I want people to hear my brassy horns (and their own) when they take in my stories. And feel the same edge of excitement I feel with the smallest, most ordinary things.
Thank you for planting the best seeds about where my work can go. I have often dreamed of a coffee table version of Kate. Ursula K. Le Guin would probably approve, right?
(On a side note, I listened to RuPaul's memoir on my cross-country drive and appreciated immensely how much disco informed the emergence of her art. So disco has been in my brain the last few weeks!)
You, RuPaul, Dua Lipa and Jesse Ware …bringing the disco back—which reminds me of that documentary about The Bee Gees.
Somewhere in my memory I make an interpretation—with disco we were more racially united.
Disco didn’t have a color. Once punk then new wave came along, I believe it segregated us. And The Bee Gees were like, “What!? I can’t be all new wave and punk.”
In terms of genres, though, your writing is deeper than disco and eternal.
Oh, Kate, you've done it again! Actually, I'm not surprised. You're a truth teller. Someone I can learn from. I stress a little every week that people aren’t going to like this week’s essay as much as they liked last week’s! It is about the responses...to a degree. I love getting positive feedback on my writing, and I'm learning to accept those responses with less doubt, more humility, and a huge load of gratitude. I've also said to myself numerous times that I can't be too invested in other people's opinions of me. That's a hard one. I do understand that it's an inside job. I have to approve of me, and if my words resonate for someone else, that's fabulous. Keep up the amazing work. I'm a true fan and a true believer!
Yes! It is an inside job, absolutely - and if what you're sharing matters to you, that is enough. That is always enough. It can be so hard to detach from others' reactions to our work. For me, it's very difficult not to take any gesture of indifference or negativity towards my art as a personal blow. But I am learning that my art isn't for everyone. And that's okay. It's for me, though, and that's the best part.
Thank you for reading and for sharing. I'm a true fan and a true believer of you right back!
Stories are the lifeblood of humanity, and you always knew and opened your heart freely, come what may. You are not only brave, but a beautiful soul full of brilliance, compassion, and love. Keep letting your light shine; we all need you now more than ever. ❤️
I will keep shining it until (and beyond) the end! Thank you, Brenda. I couldn't agree more - stories keep us alive, and they are as vital as food, water, and rest. Thank you for seeing my own love of (and capacity for) storytelling so many years ago when I couldn't quite name it, for encouraging it, for celebrating it. I am absolutely more capable of opening my heart freely through my writing now because of your championing of it so long ago. Thank you!
It’s like thunder. Lightening. The way you tell stories is exciting.
I think we should cue song, “Knock on Wood,” but not the original one by Otis Redding, or the Tina/Ike one, but the disco one with brassy horns and vibe.
Not that your writing is disco. It’s celebratory like disco.* Yet at the same time your writing has an evergreen feeling.
How cool would it be to revisit all your work in a coffee table book?
“I’m going to have say it—if only to plant a seed,” I say.
The above has been a preceding thought each time I manage to comment on your beautiful work.
It goes to show we have a nostalgia for nostalgia and your is your matter.
(That was a riff off of Ursula K. Le Guin’s “Words Are My Matter.”)
💋
—
*Oddly: Just when I think the 70s and disco is dead, it kinda comes back. I mean, what was Jesse Ware thinking? I start seeing bellbottoms and music gets that hustly beat. I thought I escaped it completely in the 90s but I’ve seen it emerge after Grunge.
Comparing my words to disco is, I'd say, one of the best compliments I've received! Thank you, Tess. I want people to hear my brassy horns (and their own) when they take in my stories. And feel the same edge of excitement I feel with the smallest, most ordinary things.
Thank you for planting the best seeds about where my work can go. I have often dreamed of a coffee table version of Kate. Ursula K. Le Guin would probably approve, right?
(On a side note, I listened to RuPaul's memoir on my cross-country drive and appreciated immensely how much disco informed the emergence of her art. So disco has been in my brain the last few weeks!)
You, RuPaul, Dua Lipa and Jesse Ware …bringing the disco back—which reminds me of that documentary about The Bee Gees.
Somewhere in my memory I make an interpretation—with disco we were more racially united.
Disco didn’t have a color. Once punk then new wave came along, I believe it segregated us. And The Bee Gees were like, “What!? I can’t be all new wave and punk.”
In terms of genres, though, your writing is deeper than disco and eternal.
Oh, Kate, you've done it again! Actually, I'm not surprised. You're a truth teller. Someone I can learn from. I stress a little every week that people aren’t going to like this week’s essay as much as they liked last week’s! It is about the responses...to a degree. I love getting positive feedback on my writing, and I'm learning to accept those responses with less doubt, more humility, and a huge load of gratitude. I've also said to myself numerous times that I can't be too invested in other people's opinions of me. That's a hard one. I do understand that it's an inside job. I have to approve of me, and if my words resonate for someone else, that's fabulous. Keep up the amazing work. I'm a true fan and a true believer!
Yes! It is an inside job, absolutely - and if what you're sharing matters to you, that is enough. That is always enough. It can be so hard to detach from others' reactions to our work. For me, it's very difficult not to take any gesture of indifference or negativity towards my art as a personal blow. But I am learning that my art isn't for everyone. And that's okay. It's for me, though, and that's the best part.
Thank you for reading and for sharing. I'm a true fan and a true believer of you right back!
Stories are the lifeblood of humanity, and you always knew and opened your heart freely, come what may. You are not only brave, but a beautiful soul full of brilliance, compassion, and love. Keep letting your light shine; we all need you now more than ever. ❤️
I will keep shining it until (and beyond) the end! Thank you, Brenda. I couldn't agree more - stories keep us alive, and they are as vital as food, water, and rest. Thank you for seeing my own love of (and capacity for) storytelling so many years ago when I couldn't quite name it, for encouraging it, for celebrating it. I am absolutely more capable of opening my heart freely through my writing now because of your championing of it so long ago. Thank you!
Believe me when I say, it was my honor.