Well. A lot has happened since I posted a month ago. You'll find a few semi-formed thoughts at the end of this post.
First, I want to share with you a video I made last week. It's a trailer for my livestream piano bar show on YouTube. Check it out!
Your next chance to catch a livestream is TONIGHT from 8:00 to 10:00 PST! Stop by and request a song!
By far the easiest way to stay notified about these livestreams is to subscribe to my YouTube channel—and make sure to click the bell icon when you do, so you get notifications when I go live or upload a new video.
What else?
Save the date! On Thursday, January 7th (my 30th birthday) at 7 p.m. I'll be hosting a livestream show unlike anything I've done yet. It will feature not just me but also my super-creative housemates and (thanks to the magic of modern technology) many artist friends from Seattle and abroad! Expect a long night of variety, revelry, and inspired sharing. Best of all, we'll be raising money for the Duwamish River Cleanup Coalition! I'll follow up soon with more information, but please consider yourself invited.
And now! Introducing a new segment we're calling...
Jo Recommends
I've done this once before, actually, at the suggestion of my partner, Erin. She said all her favorite newsletters have a recommendation section. Very well then! Here are a few things I truly think everyone should experience.
1) Multimedia Publication • Emergence Magazine
This might be my favorite discovery of 2020. I found the podcast first, and loved it immediately. My intrigue only grew when I found out that Emergence also makes films and VR experiences. Then, while in line at PCC, I saw Emergence's first annual print edition on the magazine rack, and bought the absolutely gorgeous publication without hesitation. This more-than-a-magazine, which "explore[s] the threads connecting ecology, culture, and spirituality," is publishing some of the best stuff out there right now. Start with "Language Keepers," about indigenous folks in California who are the last living speakers of their native tongues. Or check out this virtual reality visit to the spiritual silences of the Hoh Rain Forest.
2) Album • To Cy & Lee: Instrumentals Vol. 1 by Alabaster DePlume
Erin brought this one to my attention. It's a lush and mesmerizing compilation by an eccentric and open-hearted composer/ multi-instrumentalist. DePlume's sax playing evokes the distinctive trilling, trance-like ethio-jazz style of Getatchew Mekurya, though his influences are clearly global, and at times even extraterrestrial. Listen on Bandcamp.
3) Short Story • "The Mappist" by Barry Lopez
I was lucky enough to hear Lopez speak a few years ago. He is a wide awake soul, and his writings reflect this. This short story, from 20 years ago, is understated and methodical, just like the mysterious figure at its center—but the beauty that emerges at this slow pace is nevertheless startling. I heard it performed by Joe Spano on an episode of Selected Shorts, a radio show from Symphony Space that airs on KUOW every Saturday at 9 pm, and that is also available as a podcast. It appears the podcast episode with Lopez's story is no longer available for free, but hey, I found the text!
So. The election happened and it was a doozy. But the system seems to have held. It appears that we have a new and legitimately elected president, and that he will not be blocked from taking office in January, though not for lack of effort from certain parties desperate to hold onto power.
I don't love discussing politics. Not because it's unimportant, but because it is a realm where we too often forget our principles, and fail to recognize our brothers and sisters. There are, believe it or not, countless things more important than presidential elections. That said, the unfolding political drama has been on all of our minds, given how it is inextricable from the very tangible crises we currently face. It would feel strange not to address it.
Personally, I'm very relieved by the result of the presidential election. But I feel for those who were on the losing side this time. We all know how much that can sting. And I am so grateful for the officials who placed their belief in the integrity of our democratic system above any party loyalty. They resisted intimidation and did what was right. That particular aspect of the electoral drama served as a weighty reminder that the course of history is, in the end, determined by the actions of individuals. We can take heart in that fact.
There seems to be a vast distance between us and them these days, no matter who you are and where you look. In truth, we are just as similar, just as connected as we've ever been. We are kin, and that will always be so. Nevertheless, the story of our separation is a powerful one, especially in the political realm. Our partisan divisions, and the charged energy they create, are not likely to wane just because the election has passed. I continue to fear the possibility of more violence, of ever more hardship added to the heap of these trying times.
It's the last thing we need. So many are isolated, so many are sick, so many are out of work, so many are grieving, so many are gone. All of us could use some healing right now. Which means that whatever gifts we have to help people heal—whether that healing is physical, emotional, psychosexual, spiritual, communal, ecological—are more precious than ever! Let's help each other find and nurture those gifts in all their manifold forms, and take healing actions big and small. It all counts.
Working in tandem, we can rediscover hope. We can build a genuine optimism—the kind that is defensible and not an abdication of responsibility. The kind that grows from recognition of our common humanity, rather than out of our hope that, finally, once and for all, our side will prevail. What does hope that transcends politics look like?
A much-maligned president (whose wounded child ego should inspire pity in us all) recently said, in spite of glaring evidence to the contrary, that, regarding the pandemic, we were "rounding the turn." We weren't then, and we haven't yet. Cases and deaths continue to climb out of control. Hospitals are overfilled and healthcare workers are worn down. Governors have had little choice but to close businesses and schools. There is no robust federal relief effort underway. These are dark days, and they are getting darker.
And yet: the days will brighten, and eventually warm. The cases will peak, and then drop. Amazingly, it appears that there will be several good vaccines available soon. There is cause for hope. As we near the solstice and celebrate the rounding of that seasonal turn, my prayer is that the president's premature, denialist words become true.
I know things feel especially bleak right now. More than ever, we need real wisdom. The tales from our past which we revisit this time of year offer guidance for facing the present. The stories of Christmas, Hanukkah, and solstice traditions from around the world, tell us plainly that hope is found in the unlikeliest of places, that miracles do happen, and that no amount of darkness can beat back the light.
I'm wishing you all a joyful holiday season filled with love and gratitude.