Love, love, love this. A full time job, part time job, and 4 kids?! I am in awe by the depth and clarity of your voice, amidst the chaos that I imagine is your life Alissa. So many parallels in our lives-- minus the multiple jobs, and the # of kids. I wish I had reached out when I was in London and the kids could have played together at Hyde park, on that boat thing with the sand while we scribbled notes and did some writing together. Next time.
"on that boat thing with the sand" is a perfect description. I know exactly what you're talking about. Let's do it next time-- I can't wait to share air with you. Until then, I'll continue to admire and consume your words from afar.
Thank you, Karena. I'm grateful to be in a community with you, your words and ideas. And that line emerged from the dear friend who wrote me the note. Gifts upon gifts!
Damn, you're a good writer, great imagery and word choice... This gives me some inspiration to connect with my oldest friends in new ways.
Being a bunch of dudes and even worse, from Massachusetts, sharing bits of literature amongst my close homies isn't exactly encouraged. I do fear that as filter bubbles isolate us deeper into our own realities, there are less ops for shared experiences and interests. This maybe could be a strength if we encourage each other to talk about whatever podcast or book we're reading but as of now I think we all assume the other just doesn't care.
Anyway, great article, thanks for the inspiration to connect in deeper ways with my friends.
Ha! The guys I mention in this piece (husband and friends) are all Boston-bred, too, Patrick. Thank you for reading it-- and for the kind ego boost. Also glad this connected me to your latest piece, "Save the World, Have Children". So good!
haha wow no way! Ya Boston, little closed off from feeling in general but sounds like you're husband and friends have it down. Oh nice, thanks for reading! And for having kids.
This essay speaks to the deepest part of my core. As someone so connected to the words of others, this feels very alive in me. It made me think of my box of cards and letters; I’m a hoarder of words.
I feel so much fuller because of them. And yet, there is always always space for more.
Thank you for writing! This is immensely precious.
Oct 18, 2023·edited Oct 18, 2023Liked by Alissa Mears
You and your mean friends, you as of middling popularity, you looking over your friend’s shoulder—all of it amazes me and reminds me that we get to grow into the people we are and will be. Because you are the most wonderful friend, a friend I aspire to have even as I call you sister. Thank goodness for your words and your friends and the ones that made you.
I often falter when it comes to writing words for and about you not only because you are such a beautiful writer but because I know it will take the most beautiful writing I may ever do to get it right. The card above is not that, but one day soon you’ll hold more of my attempts in your hands.
To anticipate your words and then to read and hear them—what a blessing it all is. You’re not crying, I am.
Writing early to send love on a grey morning from the porch looking at new plantings in the back garden from inside the fog of a bad cold with gratitude for your “love letter”.
Alissa, so many profound and beautiful sentences. I loved “To trust someone with words you adore, words that infuriate you, words that change you, words that you think they need, is love.”
I often think that in my next life I want to come back as a “love letter”. Word and emotions expressed in writing. Your piece brought that to mind again for me. ❤️
Your writing draws me in. I feel like I can settle in and enjoy a ride of expression where you continually shift the lens to look at things a little more interestingly like the lens of a camera as you zoom in and out of a landscape. Thank you for this gift to be able to share with a few friends that mean something in my life.
Love, love, love this. A full time job, part time job, and 4 kids?! I am in awe by the depth and clarity of your voice, amidst the chaos that I imagine is your life Alissa. So many parallels in our lives-- minus the multiple jobs, and the # of kids. I wish I had reached out when I was in London and the kids could have played together at Hyde park, on that boat thing with the sand while we scribbled notes and did some writing together. Next time.
"on that boat thing with the sand" is a perfect description. I know exactly what you're talking about. Let's do it next time-- I can't wait to share air with you. Until then, I'll continue to admire and consume your words from afar.
What a beautiful reminder of the value of friends in the communities we create.
Each paragraph was visually rich, but this was both lavish and memorable:
In sharing less of life with friends, there is room to share more. More of our landscapes, our weather, our stories, ourselves.
Thank you, Karena. I'm grateful to be in a community with you, your words and ideas. And that line emerged from the dear friend who wrote me the note. Gifts upon gifts!
You are a magician. This is so lovely, Thank you ❤️
You are too kind. Thank you, thank you, Emma.
Damn, you're a good writer, great imagery and word choice... This gives me some inspiration to connect with my oldest friends in new ways.
Being a bunch of dudes and even worse, from Massachusetts, sharing bits of literature amongst my close homies isn't exactly encouraged. I do fear that as filter bubbles isolate us deeper into our own realities, there are less ops for shared experiences and interests. This maybe could be a strength if we encourage each other to talk about whatever podcast or book we're reading but as of now I think we all assume the other just doesn't care.
Anyway, great article, thanks for the inspiration to connect in deeper ways with my friends.
Ha! The guys I mention in this piece (husband and friends) are all Boston-bred, too, Patrick. Thank you for reading it-- and for the kind ego boost. Also glad this connected me to your latest piece, "Save the World, Have Children". So good!
haha wow no way! Ya Boston, little closed off from feeling in general but sounds like you're husband and friends have it down. Oh nice, thanks for reading! And for having kids.
This essay speaks to the deepest part of my core. As someone so connected to the words of others, this feels very alive in me. It made me think of my box of cards and letters; I’m a hoarder of words.
I feel so much fuller because of them. And yet, there is always always space for more.
Thank you for writing! This is immensely precious.
I love that you're a "hoarder of words". What a wonderful way to be. And I'm grateful for all you give, Sandra.
You and your mean friends, you as of middling popularity, you looking over your friend’s shoulder—all of it amazes me and reminds me that we get to grow into the people we are and will be. Because you are the most wonderful friend, a friend I aspire to have even as I call you sister. Thank goodness for your words and your friends and the ones that made you.
I often falter when it comes to writing words for and about you not only because you are such a beautiful writer but because I know it will take the most beautiful writing I may ever do to get it right. The card above is not that, but one day soon you’ll hold more of my attempts in your hands.
To anticipate your words and then to read and hear them—what a blessing it all is. You’re not crying, I am.
Your words, your words, your words. I love your words. I'd like to make a house of them.
Writing early to send love on a grey morning from the porch looking at new plantings in the back garden from inside the fog of a bad cold with gratitude for your “love letter”.
I could fill a tome with my appreciation and love for you. And thank you for describing your morning, Janet, I like thinking of you there.
So much aching sorrow in the world, makes our love of one and other even sweeter.
Alissa, so many profound and beautiful sentences. I loved “To trust someone with words you adore, words that infuriate you, words that change you, words that you think they need, is love.”
I often think that in my next life I want to come back as a “love letter”. Word and emotions expressed in writing. Your piece brought that to mind again for me. ❤️
I think maybe you were a love letter in your last life, too, James. Thank you, friend.
Your writing draws me in. I feel like I can settle in and enjoy a ride of expression where you continually shift the lens to look at things a little more interestingly like the lens of a camera as you zoom in and out of a landscape. Thank you for this gift to be able to share with a few friends that mean something in my life.
Thank YOU, Rob, for taking the time to read and comment. I'm so glad you liked it.