Flawed, inefficient, and unprofitable

Monthly letter: March 2023

Snow is swirling outside and we've been without wi-fi all morning. In under 30 minutes I've caught myself 5 times trying to check things online.

I have a love/hate relationship to these kinds of events. Power outages, wi-fi malfunctions. It's frustrating and humiliating to have all your plans upended. But at the same time, I take masochistic pleasure in it. I like being reminded of what I take for granted. Having to submit to forces I can't control. Getting a break from the "business as usual" that both invigorates and exhausts me. And I almost get disappointed when everything goes back to normal and the spell is broken. That usually happens just as I've adjusted my plans, lit a few candles and started some peaceful, offline activity.

I've been exceptionally lazy this week. I was looking forward to do all the writing I had planned. But then Monday came, and the excitement seeped out of me like air from a whoopee cushion. And was replaced with anxiousness, mild depression, and an overwhelming need to do chores around the house and not use my brain.

This often happens to me on Mondays. I start my week feeling overwhelmed and stressed out, and then gradually find my motivation as I immerse myself in work.

This time though, the feeling lasted all week. I guess it’s the post-launch blues. Whenever I've worked hard with a project for months, the brief joy of finishing is immediately followed by a feeling of emptiness, of directionlessness. It feels amazing to reach the finish line, but then you're like "Now what?" Even though I was mentally ready for new work, my body was exhausted.

I reluctanty gave myself permission to not be productive for a week. And today, I'm feeling my strength return. (Might be because it's Friday though… 🤔)

I've decided to change the frequency of this newsletter from weekly to monthly. For a few reasons:

1. To have more to share. I live a fairly uneventful day-to-day. Sometimes I feel like not enough exciting things happen in a week for me to write about in a meaningful way. There's too much repetition and triviality. A month feels like a better timespan to develop insights and collect stories.

2. To slow down my consumtion. It's easy to have lots of thoughts and recommendations to share when you're consuming lots of media every day. But I want to slow down my rate of media consumption in favor of more creative work.

3. To have more time for other writing. My weekly letters have often grown unnecessarily long due to topics that would have been better served in separate essays. I’m itching to write those longer, more focused pieces.

4. To give you more value. I feel so self-absorbed sometimes, writing these letters. I get that inner voice that whispers "No one cares, Louise. Get over yourself." I know that's not true for the majority of you, or you wouldn't still be here with me. But I do want to give you more than just leisurely chronicles from my, frankly quite boring, life on the countryside. 🙄

And so. This newsletter will remain the same, but will come out early each month instead of each Friday. And the other weeks, an essay will be published instead. Sometimes maybe more than one, depending on how frisky I’m feeling. I will link to everything I've published during the month in my newsletter as well, so if you ever want to slow down your pace of communication with me, you can do that by clicking the "Unsubscribe" link at the bottom of one of my emails and uncheck the box for "Writings". Then you'll only get the newsletter once a month and can read up on all my stuff then.

Have I told you lately how grateful I am for you? For this space. For the comments and feedback I get from you. Thank you for being here. I want to remind you that I have an advice column, (here’s the latest one), and that my inbox is always open for topic requests. If there is anything you would like my take or advice on, don't hesitate to reach out.

Inspired by my friend Vera of

Chronicles from afar

, I thought I'd finish this letter with a kind of "audio postcard", recorded on the patio outside of our house one morning. This is what my corner of the world sounds like right now:

We have… a hooded crow, some magpies making small talk, lots of great tits and Eurasian tree sparrows chatting, the distant maniacal laughter of a green woodpecker, and finally the “song” of an Icelandic horse. (We live near a stable.) 😂

Maybe I'll share a snapshots like this each month from now on, so that you can partake in the Swedish spring chorus as it develops. We have an exciting time ahead of us, birdwise.

This weekend, I hope to pick up my novella/possible novel project Ghost of the Mountain again (Previously mentioned here and here.) I've promised myself I will finish it, however harrowing and difficult it will be. This story is very technical and research-heavy, which I find both thrilling and intimidating. If I can manage to pull it off the way I see it in my head, I would feel so incredibly proud of myself, and that's kind of the force that drives me forward. Delusions of grandeur.

I'm also going to sow tomates, bell peppers, and basil and officially kick off Growing Season 2023. Can't wait for the snow and ice to melt away so I can start all of my garden projects. Anyone else here grow vegetables?

Our wi-fi just came back on. Oh well. That does make it easier to actually send you this letter and not just write it.

Hope you are well, and that your March will unfold satisfactorily. (That is a word, right?)

With love,

---

Watercolor Magic: Awaken Your Creativity With Watercolor Abstracts

My new course is just launched. I extended the launch campaign a few more days, so you now have until this Sunday (5th of March) to get the course at the email-friends-only price. Just enter WATERCOLORMAGIC at checkout for 20% off.

---

Things I like right now:

• This album, by Niki & the Dove:

I listened to their first album obsessively during a feverish and confused summer a long time ago. Then I completely forgot about them. I do that a lot - forget to check back in with my favorite artists to see if they've released something new, and whenever I do, it feels like Christmas. Listening to this again makes me long for hot summer days.

• The Mistborn trilogy. Guys, I read The Well of Ascension for 16 hours straight last Saturday. 16 hours. All of my waking hours. (It’s obvious by now that I don’t have kids, right? 😅) I can't even remember the last time I read that much in one go. (Might have been back in high school when I read three David Eddings novels in one weekend.) I'm deeply impressed with Sanderson, but even more with myself. I didn't even pause to watch YouTube. Think I only checked my email two or three times over the course of the day.

• This article, on why hustling is out and slacking is in. As a former 90's teenager and later, burnt out and disillusioned elder-millenial, reading this was deeply healing.

…we’re obsessed with self-optimization because—post-financial crisis, saddled with student debt, with little hope of a pension—we simply have to be: “We couldn’t just show up with a diploma and expect to get and keep a job that would allow us to retire at 55. In a marked shift from the generations before, millennials needed to optimize ourselves to be the very best workers possible.”

The result is an economy where it’s more possible than ever to be your own boss, and a lot less possible to buy your own home. And one where it’s literally unimaginable that we’ll ever be able to stop working—at the end of the workday, or in the later years of our lives.

• Aplay Efe's latest video, on YouTube and the end of art:

I share all of his frustrations and am glad to hear them articulated so well. Leaves you feeling a bit depressed though, doesn't it? I sat down a few days ago to try and relax and paint some watercolor birds. I did not have a good time. Kept messing up. Kept asking myself what the point of it was. Might just have been one of my bad art days. Painting was always difficult, of course. But right now, with everything that's going on, it almost feels insurmountable.

• All of the masterful opinion pieces by writers, on the topic of AI and ChatGPT. Like this one by Erik Hoel. This one by Cat Valente. And these two by Lincoln Michel:

The Only Sure Thing with AI Is Writing Will Get Blander and the Rich Will Get Richer

The Flood of ChatGPT Crap About to Clog Up Publishing

If you, like me, get depressed and anxious from reading too much about these topics, my advice is: Walk away from your phone or computer. Go outside, look at birds. Eat chocolate. Lay a jigsaw puzzle. Put on some music and dance ridiculously to it. Sing loudly and badly. Celebrate being a flawed, inefficient and unprofitable human being.