August Wilson‘s “Two Trains Running” was in town for one night at the Diana Wortham theater in downtown Asheville. It was a spectacular performance from The Acting Company. August Wilson is a phenomenal writer. His plays make you think, and then think some more.
Maybe a spoiler? Read on…
(more…)This link was forwarded to me, and it’s fun to make a guess about where in the world you might be. It reminds me of the Carmen Sandiego game from years ago! And when you place the pin on the map correctly within a certain range, confetti flies. Who doesn’t love confetti?
Our local Art Museum is sponsoring an exhibit by artists who live and work in the areas affected by Hurricane Helene. I was overjoyed to see so many people at the opening. Events that bring people together are so important now. One of my favorite pieces from the evening was by Jon-Delia Freeman, a digital photograph titled “Pine Sap (Tears of Helene), 2024.” It was a reminder of all the tears that have been shed since September, and how we are all interconnected: people, animals, spirits, and the land.
During October, much of my time was spent among fallen trees. Picking up branches that had fallen in my yard, chainsawing trees that had fallen to the ground, chopping bucked trees into firewood, stacking firewood to allow it to season. There was one log that was particularly difficult to split. I used a maul, I used a wedge, I used an axe. And when it finally opened, this amazingly beautiful pattern presented itself. Even among the destruction, there is beauty.
I subscribe to Roxanne Gay’s The Audacity newsletter on Substack. It’s fabulous. Each newsletter contains links to thought provoking articles. And my favorite newsletter is the Emerging Writer Series, in which a new writer’s work is featured. I cherish the 15-20 minutes I’ve spent reading a new writer’s work. Sign up – you won’t regret it.
“So… did I hit your car?”
I was 16. I had had my driver’s license for mere months. I was driving to my sister-in-law’s house, across town, shortly after she had given birth to my nephew. The rain pelted down, a semi tractor trailer cut in front of me, I hit the brakes while also attempting to swerve out of the way. I learned quickly this was not a good combination. I remember spiraling out of control, maybe I shut my eyes, I thought I hit something, and then I was still. I got out of my car, saw I had no damage, realized I was okay, and I began to think maybe I imagined all of this.
“So… did I hit your car?” I asked the middle aged man standing outside of his brand new BMW with the paper tags. Then I looked down. I had sliced his car from front bumper to rear. I started crying. “I’m so… I’m so sorry.” He asked me if I was okay. I told him I was. He asked to see my license and insurance. I showed him, and he said, “I’m on the way to the airport. I need to get going. I know your Dad, and will reach out to him. Are you sure you’re okay?” I assured him I was and apologized profusely. He told me not to worry and to take care.
Today I was engrossed in making Samin Nosrat’s big lasagna for the ten guests I was expecting at 6 pm. The doorbell rang at 4 pm and I assumed it was a delivery person notifying me I had a package. I opened the door to two upset young people. They kept apologizing. “I’m so sorry; I’m so sorry…” They had hit my car parked in front of my house; the rear tire was severed, brake fluid leaking on the road, the car pushed onto the grassy median.
I remembered all those years ago when I was sixteen and frightened. I took a deep breath. “Are you okay? Let’s take a look.” I surveyed the damage, and asked if they could start their car to move it out of the street. They did, and the young lady had already called the police. My initial thought was that I was so grateful they had told me they had hit my car. Maybe they could have hit and run? I told them I appreciated them letting me know what had happened and invited them inside out of the nearly freezing weather. I gave them water and tried to make conversation to distract them from the shock of what had happened. They had come to Asheville from Charlotte to get tattoos. After a few moments of silence, I awkwardly asked, “So, how do you decide what to get a tattoo of?” And as soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt like a 100-year old granny. They graciously answered, talking about favorite artists, designs seen on the internet, etc.
The police arrived quite a while later, and told them their car would have to be towed; it wasn’t drivable. We stood outside for a long time until the officer gave us a copy of his report, and said he’d wait for the tow company. I asked if we could wait inside, and he said yes. They told me they’d called their brother, who lived in Charlotte, to come pick them up. It would be at least 2.5 hours before he arrived.
I excused myself to continue to make lasagna and prepare for guests. I invited them to make themselves at home. He helped me set the table and center the long tablecloth over the leaves. He offered to fill the water glasses as I cleaned the kitchen. The guests arrived and I made introductions as if everyone was supposed to be there.
Folks piled small plates with appetizers and we chatted in the living room. After a bit, everyone came to the kitchen to make a plate and join around the table. We scooched closer together to make room for the two extra guests, and brought out folding chairs. Over dinner we talked about tv shows, dating norms, family dynamics, relationship norms. As we were clearing the dinner dishes to get ready for dessert, they told me their ride had arrived. He hugged me tight, and said this was like a real life Hallmark movie. He couldn’t have known that was the largest compliment he could have given. Hallmark movies were Mom’s favorites. Because no matter what the plot, things worked out in the end. And today worked out.
WNC Artists! Apply for HEAR:
A New Residency Project in Response to Hurricane Helene – Deadline to apply is Friday, January 3
In response to the devastating impact of Helene on so many regional artists, Trillium Arts recently launched a new project, Helene Emergency Artists Residencies (HEAR) for artists residing in Western North Carolina.
Trillium Arts will offer four HEAR awards in early 2025, at no cost to the artists. In fact, awarded artists will receive a $700 relief stipend, along with free housing, supplies and a nurturing creative environment.
Western North Carolina artists of all disciplines substantially impacted by Hurricane Helene are invited to apply. This regional residency is open to arts professionals 18 years or older who reside in the 26 counties in Western North Carolina impacted by Hurricane Helene.
HEAR Artists Will Receive:
TIMELINE
Applications are being accepted now. Applications for HEAR are reviewed by a panel. The deadline to apply is Friday, January 3, 2025 at 11:59 pm EST.
The application is intentionally short & only requires applicants to complete a handful of questions and upload supporting documents. Please share with anyone who may be interested. Thank you. ❤
When I opened my phone to do the crossword this morning, a photo memory appeared from last year on this day. It was one of the first days that Mom couldn’t rise from bed. I arrived to visit her and she was in a deep sleep. I curled up on the bed with her and simply held her. There was no trip to get ice cream that day. There was no trip to walk in the park. We laid there together, on her bed, her asleep and me crying quietly. It’s been almost a year since she passed. I still find myself crying quietly.
And, next year on this day, there will be joyous photos in my feed. Two of my dearest friends got married today in a perfect ceremony. There they were, in their living room, with two parents and four friends as witnesses. One of the couple’s godmother performed the short, but oh so touching, ceremony.
I brought flowers for the table and mantel, and small bouquets for each (as well as champagne to celebrate the occasion). After the ceremony, we took a few pictures, then sat and talked as we sipped delicious, rich hot chocolate with mini marshmallows, and ate cookies. The love and support in the room heavily cloaked each of us. It was a day of remembrance, and a day for rejoicing.
I returned home to Asheville on Sunday, October 13. Everything that you have heard and seen about the destruction wrecked by Hurricane Helene in Western North Caroline is true, and then some. My heart breaks as I traverse the area witnessing the damage done. I am so grateful for the outpouring of support in our area. From FEMA, from church groups nationwide, from volunteers simply wanting to help neighbors. It is humbling. It gives me hope.
And, in addition to the disaster management and rebuilding efforts happening, we have an important (gosh, that word sounds so trivial) election looming. Every day since returning to my home, I have canvassed neighborhoods, made phone calls, or greeted voters at early voting sites across the county. It is such a privilege to be able to do so. To interact with neighbors, to see that people are okay, to reconnect with acquaintances, to talk about the local and state elections that will impact our lives perhaps even more than the federal one. To make sure that people understand where they can vote, that if they don’t have a photo id, they can request an exception since we are in a designated disaster area (as many people lost everything, including their ids, in the wake of Helene). To let people know that if they cannot stand in line, we have curbside voting at every polling site, and they can vote from the comfort of their car. To let people know that we have volunteers who will drive them to the polls if they don’t have a way to otherwise get there.
As I was canvassing yesterday, I met a resident who said he wasn’t voting, as he didn’t care for either of the presidential candidates. I’ve heard people say this before, and each time I hear it, it feels like a punch to the gut, and simply sucks the breath from me. I don’t understand how someone could not care about our system of government. About not caring about having a say in how our society works. I reminded myself to suspend judgment and get curious. I asked the resident about what issues are important to him, and if he would feel comfortable voting for the 20+ other races that are on the ballot, if he didn’t feel comfortable casting a vote for president. He considered that, and then asked to learn more about local and state candidates. I talked about the platforms of each, and gave him my phone number and asked him to reach out if he had any additional questions or wanted to discuss any of the candidates. I thanked him for his time, and he said he probably still wouldn’t vote, as he didn’t have time to research the independent and Republican candidates. I urged him to reconsider, and also realized I had done what I could, and needed to move on.
I’m so curious – for those of y’all who don’t vote – why? What has played into your decision to sit this one out?
On October 1, I resigned from Automattic after leading the People (Human Resources) function for 13 years and 11 months.
I am grateful for the relationships that I built while at Automattic – with Automatticians, with WordPress community members, with True Ventures colleagues (an investor in Automattic), and with attendees at conferences where I spoke on behalf of Automattic. My life is so much richer because of these relationships.
I am grateful for the work that I was privileged to do over the time I was at Automattic – setting up employment entities in new countries, hiring and building out the most amazing People team, supporting our small but mighty Learn team, creating policies there were supportive of Automatticians as we grew from a company of 50 individuals to over 2,000. I learned so much from my colleagues, and will miss them dearly.
So why did I leave? Recently Matt invited Automatticians who weren’t aligned with his interactions with WP Engine to leave the company. He asked me to model out a severance package that would financially support folks who chose to leave. At the same time, I had just learned of the destruction Hurricane Helene had wrought on my beloved home town of Asheville, NC (I was out of town for work when it struck, and have not returned home yet). I am still grieving the loss of my mother from earlier this year, in addition to continuing to grieve the loss of my father. As much as I knew I would grieve the loss of working with my phenomenal team (and I do), I also knew that it would not bring me joy to focus on a dispute between two tech companies. I wish Automattic and my colleagues the best, and hope that a resolution comes soon.
I feel called to support my beloved community and help with rebuilding and relief efforts. It’s been a long time (30 years???) since I didn’t work on a computer for hours each day. I look forward to the hard work that will likely bring callouses. I look forward to building something with my hands. A new chapter begins…
You would have loved today. The temperature has dropped; it’s a lovely sunny, crisp day. As the sun set, I sat on our porch, as we had so many times before, rocking and watching the sky turn from a light blue to a medium blue to a dark blue to night. A bat circled overhead. Crickets sang their songs.
The dahlias are blooming. Bright oranges, yellows, pinks, and creams. The zinnias are hanging on, their pinks and oranges fading, just a few more days of beauty. The cornflowers are black, and soon they will drop their seeds, ensuring that we’ll have even more brilliant pink blooms next summer.
I miss you. I wish we could have had one more year with cupcakes and ice cream. Oh, who am I kidding? I wish we could have had many more years.
We gathered last weekend in Winston-Salem to celebrate you. So many friends were there. We shared stories about you. Your stubbornness. Your steadfastness. Your love of your community. Your love of ice cream.
Happy birthday, wherever you are. May all your wishes come true.
LoriLoo 