June was a blur. I mean this with my whole heart. July has been a flood. July has been so many things washed away, and so many things coming back to me. Mercury retrograde, eclipses, and the beginning of cancer season had me feeling weepy and protective of myself. Every time I uproot myself, I wonder if there’s some erosion that happens… what are the effects of transplanting so many times? What’s the cost and will I feel it now? Will I feel it later?
I don’t speak openly a lot about my mental health, but I wanted to touch on a few things this time. I’ve dealt with a shade of PMDD for as long as I can remember-- in the week or so before my period my anxiety SPIKES. Every text message sent is an occasion for overthinking. I wonder if anyone really likes me, or if they're just tolerating me. Existential dread for breakfast, lunch, and dinner!!! My brain is mean! My ego is loud, and my days are blanketed in a weird fog of self-absorption. Recently, I had to leave a meal early because I started dissociating over tacos. Everything felt plastic and unreal. I had to go home and lie down.
Knowing that this is coming every month helps me prepare and slow my roll. I know that it will pass. Some months are worse than others. I am very lucky to have strong support systems and people who care about me and hold me through the riptides of my hormones and bully brain.
Feelings of “not enough” or “not doing enough” are also really normal under capitalism. I actually will never be enough because there’s an endless appetite for my labor. I could give every bit of myself to these systems and it still wouldn’t be enough.
I also know from experience that my spirit/ creative life force is like a basketball in the water. No matter how much you try to hold that fucker down it pops up. Sometimes I’m irritated by how buoyant I seem to be.
I think my theology or spiritual anchor could be categorized as a sort of cranky divinity1. Maybe it’s an antidote to the new age god-drunk coaching industrial complexes that I see permeating every corner of social media. Maybe because I’m inherently skeptical and quick to love but slow to trust. Maybe because I’m a Taurus sun. Maybe because in Human Design I’m a Reflector. Anyway, this life is beautiful, and I—
On my first two trips to Quinta da Regaleira in Sintra, I somehow missed that there is another well in addition to the Initiation Well. I discovered it on the third visit. It’s called “The Imperfect Well” (seen above, from below). I don’t know the story of this one, but it was clearly a draft-- they were trying to figure out the whole awe-inspiring masonic bridge between realms inverted tower thing. I love the imperfect well— I see more of myself in her.
This is mostly a newsletter about feelings and curiosities, and I haven’t written about restaurants, but I’m compelled to share a recent dining experience that snapped me back to the present and mosaiced my jagged multitudes. The restaurant is called Tabernário do Bairro, and it’s run completely by a Portuguese couple. The husband brought the chalkboard with the day’s fare. He advised against the oysters and clams, it being a Monday they would not be sufficiently fresh. He offered whimsy, warmth, and proverbs with each course. When we asked about a starter with tomato and poached egg, he replied….“It’s not good it’s better than good” & “When you’re eating this you’ll feel like wow, god exists.” It was indeed divine, a dish reminiscent of shakshuka with a light parsley and coriander punch. As we expressed our appreciation for the herbs he mused, “The most important ingredient is time.”
The wife came out to smoke a cigarette a few times and we clapped for her. I broke my vegetarianism to try her chicken broth. It was delicious, a gut-punch of nostalgia reminding me of soup and rice my grandmother made. I wanted to cry. The broth reminded me that flavors done simply and well with lots of love are portals.
I also tried a vegetarian dish—shitake mushrooms, black-eyed peas, cornbread, and greens. Unexpected and delicious.
It was windy on the terrace, so we took dessert to go— ginger-soaked pineapple and cinnamon-soaked pears, eaten in that order.
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Creative updates: I wrote a poem for the full moon in Capricorn as part of a collaboration. You can read the poem and listen to the full mix by Wattusi here !
More exciting news is coming… any guesses? Comment your guess below or email me. The closest guess(es) will get a postcard with a haiku from me.
Currently listening to:
The Wave by Commonminds
Nasty Gal by Betty Davis
All Eyes on Me by Bo Burnham
Thank you for taking time out of your day and spending it with me. As always, this newsletter is an offering. If you feel compelled to buy me a coffee, a t-shirt with a tasteless slogan, Iemanjá prayer candles, or more chicken broth, my Venmo is @duffylala <3 <3 <3
My partner read a draft of this and reminded me, “that’s Judaism.” then added, “the Old Testament God is such a petty bitch.”
lol I've been twice too, but only ever seen the imperfect well! quick call Lassie, I'm trapped again!