Summer Bummer

This newsletter comes with a mini playlist

I was on my way to pick up my cat Stevie Nicks from the Pet Memorial location which happened to be a 10 minute bike ride from my apartment in SE. I rode down a dead end street overlooking 1-5 — presumably you don’t come down this way unless you’re picking up a dead pet. A pair of redheads arrived at the same time as I did; a little girl and her Dad. I held the door as we entered the small one-level building together. The fluorescent lights illuminated a wall of pet urns and clay paw print mementos. Waiting for an employee to greet us, I awkwardly observed the shelves, not sure what to say.

Eventually a woman came out to help as the girl timidly said “we’re very sad about our dog Magnus…” The woman looked at both of us, not knowing if we were there together, and asked who had a one o’clock appointment. I raised my hand and she gently handed me my cat’s ashes.

Leaving this strange place I feel a twist in my gut. I wish I had related some grief to this little girl. I felt like the whole experience was cold and robotic. Peddling home, I bemoaned how awkward our society is surrounding grief. Stevie was the first cat I cared for and lost as an adult which feels significant. Picking up her ashes felt like a significant act. Yet the reality felt so ordinary and constrained. Myself and this father favored politeness; we both wordlessly agreed that the correct social response towards a stranger — who is also picking up their dead pet’s ashes — is to very nearly ignore their presence.

I know that despite the introverted population of Portland Oregon there still exists community and help. On my bike ride home I took note of the plastic baby bathtub sitting on the street corner, communicating “I don’t need this anymore — do you need this, and will you take it so it doesn’t end up in a landfill?” There’s junk like this on every other street corner in PDX. Maybe it’s laziness and maybe it’s unsightly but I think it’s kind of sweet — evidence that there is still a collective community silently exchanging resources.

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I’m giving myself permission to do less while I grieve Stevie’s death. I have fallen out of my morning art practice and that’s okay. However, I was able to enjoy an amazing art retreat I hosted with Cole Lyons (my partner and local art teacher at

Ulna Art Studio

). I want to share the art we made and the photos we took in the next newsletter! In the meantime, here are some sketchbook scans, some photos of Stevie, and a mini playlist that I am listening to while I experience this bittersweet summer :,)

Thanks for reading!! Sorry for the bummer. Let me know what’s on your grief playlist.

1. Moon Song – Pheobe Bridgers

2. Goodbye Evergreen - Sufjan Stevens

3. Sadness as a Gift - Adrienne Lenker

4. Naked as We Came - Iron and Wine

A sketchbook painting from a trip Cole and I took to visit friends in Bellingham, WA.

Bellingham, WA and Vancouver BC!

Missing my shadow, familiar, studio buddy Stevie.

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Upcoming Events:

• If you’d like to dedicate time to your creative practice, I am offering my Sketchbook Journey art class again this fall

• I have a piece in The LP Show at A Sometimes Gallery - Carter and Rose. 3601 SE Division St. The opening is September 20th!

Currently Reading:

• I picked up another gigantic Ken Follett book: The Armor of Light (the latest in the Kingsbridge series)

• My friends Rachel and Cat started a podcast called the Smut Peddlers where they read, review, and gab about contemporary romance books.

Currently listening to:

• Adrienne Lenker’s Bright Future album