when we speak we are afraid / our words will not be heard
On Friday night I attended the screening of the remastered version of The Spook Who Sat By The Door, which I’d never seen and with which I was only vaguely familiar.
I will not say anything about the experience except that it was brilliant and surprising, and that the film screening was made possible in part by the philanthropy of people like Mellody Hobson and George Lucas. You should go see it (and if you’re in New York, here’s the upcoming showings at BAM).
This weekend, because next weekend will not be even slightly chill1, I took to relaxing like it was my job. Nothing in the calendar, no alarms or timers except for the ones reminding me to finish the laundry. Bliss.
Not unrelated: this weekend I finally finished reading Lucille Clifton’s Generations. There’s something about the synchronicity of the past couple of days that I am trying to appreciate and hold on to, despite everything, despite it all.
Attribution
when we are loved we are afraid love will vanish when we are alone we are afraid love will never return and when we speak we are afraid our words will not be heard nor welcomed but when we are silent we are still afraid — from A Litany for Survival by Audre Lorde
please say hello if you see me at xoxo on Saturday ↩