In the span of 48 hours, California was rocked by two mass shootings with eerie similarities. The shootings bring up questions that speak to the intersectionality of racism and mental health.
Earlier this summer, my husband Quinn gave me a beautiful hydrangea. It was pinkish-purple and in full bloom. I didn’t plant it right away because I wasn’t sure what the right spot would be (the tag said morning sun, partial shade) and we’d have to get it approved by the HOA (eye roll). The hydrangea lived in its pot on our front walkway for weeks (a month? longer?). I watered it occasionally, but that just wasn’t enough, and it withered and browned and started flaking away. I thought it had died.
Even if you’ve never heard the word “sprezzatura” before, I guarantee you know what it means. Sprezzatura is the endless balancing act of trying really hard while simultaneously hiding the fact that you’re trying in the first place. It is the study of being perfect in a nonchalant, effortless way.