Time to Make the Donuts

and other imperatives

Hello, dear ones, from the lip of yet another apocalypse.

I have nothing novel to say in the face of it; my offering is just this moment from The Fellowship of the Ring on constant loop:

I also strongly recommend revisiting Stephen King’s The Stand, the novel and/or the 1994 miniseries (just please not the 2020 one). It is full of darkness and hope and sobering purpose and a lot of very, very brave people.

I haven’t wanted to write all week. I haven’t wanted to send emails or have meetings or do morning pages, or any of the things that would spirit me further towards creativity and connection. Because, I mean… The Horrors, right? It feels wrong, paltry, foolish. Like wearing a feather boa to a funeral.

But it is always a mistake when we allow The Horrors to eclipse every good thing.

The Horrors are sobering, and significant, and they require our action. But even with The Horrors, the needs of the day remain: chop wood, carry water.

There are sunrises, birdsong, tea, hot baths, wonderful books, steamy soups with crusty bread, the right song coming on the radio. There’s cold mornings in a toasty bed. There’s stars and oceans and voice memos from people you love, and letters you’ve been waiting for, and dogs. And all of those things fill your cup, sustain you, keep you wanting to be here to fight for what’s worth fighting for.

Despite waking up last Wednesday and lamenting, “Welp, that’s it for me, I guess”— my laptop hovering over the garbage can—I somehow found myself in a Zoom meeting. Against a numbing tide of dread and ennui, I was loathe to remind myself that it is still time to make the donuts.

My donuts cannot keep The Horrors from happening, but they can fill a cup, sustain someone, keep someone wanting to be here to fight for what’s worth fighting for.

(WHAT DONUTS, JEN)

RIGHT SO

(despite wanting to turn my skin inside out by how very small these donuts feel)

Sugarcoated is officially making its NYC premiere this February for a two-week run off-Broadway.

We are throwing so much muscle and heart into this, and I can’t wait to tell you more.

In the meantime, we are all we’ve got—and now we know it. So make yourself a cup of tea, marvel at a sunrise, and extend your heart into the world one more time.

xx Jen