A Black Eyed Story
Oh, friend. No words, just love. ❤️❤️❤️
Well said, as usual, and deeply felt.❤️
Oh I went right down a rabbit hole with these words. Or perhaps I'd fallen down already and met you next to the caterpillar sitting on a mushroom that I could never identify. Wealth and fame as measured by algorithms. Wealth & fame as measured by best-seller lists & how many black authors the publishing houses will support. The artists I support (including you) on substack - all that you have to do is so far removed from my 20 years of tiny career as a director. Which ended just before you 2002. So if I did something before instagram does it really exist? I thought about that at 4am after listening to you. Other thoughts - because of your book I watched season 2 of The Bear just to see some fine dining in Chicago. I was "fine dining adjacent" when I lived with a boy who went from bussing tables to cooking for a one hatted restaurant. (We have hats in Australia.max 3 ) oh the theatre of that world. Thank you Marcie for the uncomfortable and necessary words about life adjacent to riches. 💜
Well, societal measured riches I should say.
Friend, you have taken my breath away. God bless you! You're amazing!
Again you hit us with your vulnerability, your willingness to say the quiet part out loud. To me, you are extraordinary.
Your vulnerability meets me in my vulnerability today...walking away from a life of "chasing extraordinary" in Austin to go be extraordinarily ordinary back home, surrounded and protected by family and what is known...we don't "should" on our ourselves in our house, but we have spent some time in the last several days considering the roads previously taken that got us to here...extraordinary friends, generosity, expansiveness...investments in our hearts that will carry us into the new. Grateful for your words. <3