Resource Roundup #64
For the week of January 27th.
Hello folks, and happy Friday.
This has been a busy week and also one of my favorite I’ve had in a long time. A week of exciting conversations and new connections and many ruminations on empathy and community and joy as a form of activism— all the things that drew me to launching Good Folk in the first place.
I hope this weekend brings you peace, in whatever form that may take for you. Lots of things in this week’s roundup for you to enjoy, below…
We launched season two of the podcast this week with the incredible Official Bard of Baldwin County. I love this conversation, despite my audio mishaps. You can listen above on Spotify, directly in Substack here, or read the full transcript here.
And what wonderful timing, as the Bard has a brand new EP that just dropped today!
I was reminded of this quote today and in the midst of so much pain this week, I think it serves as a constant reminder:
“You should be angry. You must not be bitter. Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. It doesn’t do anything to the object of its displeasure. So use that anger. You write it. You paint it. You dance it. You march it. You vote it. You do everything about it. You talk it. Never stop talking it.”
Maya Angelou
It’s still the new year in my mind, and this Silas House poem really gets at everything I’d like to say:
Asheville band Wednesday in Pitchfork! We love to see it!
Calling all folklorists… Folkways is hiring!
Scalawag is also hiring, both for a Creative Director and an Editor-in-Chief.
Resonates. I am only trying to live wide eyed:
I am also trying to live with everyday awe.
This song by Mon Rovîa, living in Tennessee by way of Liberia, helps with that.
I also cannot stop listening to this song.
I probably wouldn’t have become a folklorist of any sort without my initial lifelong obsession with mythology. Loving Kiki Rockwell’s videos (those VISUALS!) and especially this take on the Hades and Persephone myth.
And another quote I was reminded of today, from Arcadia, my personal favorite book:
“After the discomfort passes— blazing sun forgotten, hotspots numbed to blisters, shoulders’ rise and dip overcoming the ache by sheer repetition— the future sharpens before him, the way every blade of grass on a clear summer morning seems etched by a pin. He is in Arcadia still. He feels himself older, his body tighter in the joints, the muscles softer. He can feel his parents nearby. And Helle is there, older, too, and smiling, and she loves him. He feels his hope breathing and stretching, a living creature. He closes his eyes to keep the daydream in. Fervently, he bargains. it doesn’t have to be perfect as it had been in the brief pulse of a vision. He knows that a longing for perfection is the hole in the damn that can let everything pour out.”