We Make Internet Friends, Don't We?

a message & a link for a friend

Photo by Andre Estevez

“One day your mother put you down and never picked you up again, and your children will never again be as young as they are right now. The smell of fresh cut grass is the grass trying to heal itself after you’ve cut it, and that smell after a rain is the way the world really smells, which makes me wonder why it can’t always be like that, why we have to wait and wait for what we really want and afterward wish it were still that way.” —- Paul Crenshaw

I recently made an internet friend. I say “friend” but the truth is we exchanged a couple of emails after I discovered their Substack and we read each others Substacks and that’s all. But it’s enough because, you know, connection doesn’t always have to be in person. It’s possible to connect with an artist through their art that moves you or with a writer whose words touch you deep in a place that maybe you didn’t even know existed until you read their words (like the person I mention here). That’s powerful and it can make us as readers feel a kinship with the writer. This person is a well-known someone which is why I’m hesitating right now. They haven’t posted in a while and the last couple of posts concerned me a little. I want to reach out via email but I don’t want to invade their privacy. I’m a fangirl but not THAT fangirl. So, instead, I’m linking to an essay by Paul Crenshaw that means a lot to me and that I read sometimes when I’m in a funk or need a some perspective. Not saying this person needs that; only saying it’s a beautiful essay and I hope they see this, read it (if they haven’t already because, Paul Crenshaw!), and I hope it resonates.

Thinking of you.

The Sadness Scale, As Measured by Stars and Whales by Paul Crenshaw in Qu.