Comforting Things, Vol. 8: Raquel Reyes

“Comforting Things” is a series we started when we all reached out to each other, too angry and sad to do much of anything, and thought about what we could do to make each other feel better. We’ve kept on with variations of the series – “Comforting Films” being a favorite – and we’ve decided to bring it back now, as we’re all confined to our homes and facing times that are not only destructive to physical health but to mental health, as well. Twice a week for the next few weeks, Attic writers and editors will take turns sharing what it is that they’re finding comforting in the time of COVID, hoping to create a better sense of community but also, in hope that you may find something that is comforting to you as well. In this latest piece, our Creative Director Raquel Reyes relearns routine and embraces slow living when her usual comforts fall short.

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All photos by Raquel Reyes unless otherwise noted.

“I’m taking my own advice and doing whatever makes me happy right now.”

Not to sound superfluous, but it’s been a rather odd time. I like to believe I live a wonderfully quiet life, usually perplexing friends and relatives who like to ask, “what is new?” with a seemingly vague “nothing really!” and meaning it without a tinge of irony. But something I’ve discovered in the last month or so is that the privilege of quiet is only real in a typical world, where things like emergency services might actually show up in the case of not one but two freak accidents (everyone is fine now, not to worry!), or employment might not be so hard to come by. In a global pandemic, your guess is as good as mine. 

I won’t deconstruct the surrealism of seeing the world suddenly embrace the comforting habits I (and others I know) have lived with my whole life — cooking on a daily basis, baking bread, knitting and other crafts — and turn them into trends. I am glad for those they help, but as baseline activities personally, they don’t really cut the mustard as coping mechanisms anymore. I’ve only just recently begun feeling calm again, and found that the way to do it was not through new tasks, but in relearning my everyday and embracing the slowness of it — taking the extra minute to walk into a moment as I would like to live it, instead of rushing through in search of the next panic. Forgiving myself if I don’t get everything done in a day. Ignoring the voice in my head that says I should be trying harder, reading that, or listening to this instead. 

I’m taking my own advice and doing whatever makes me happy right now. I’ve described a couple of these in our Five Things To Do This Spring last month, which was in short a guide to how I live at home, and in mentioning again will share how I apply them directly. Normalcy isn’t a 24/7 deal, and quiet remains a privilege, but I hope if you need it something here might help you too.

Coffee

Don't we all just miss coffee dates? Living on semi-conflicting schedules, my brother and I made a weekly point to schedule our days off around them in the past, but fell out of the habit at some point as life took over. So we’ve begun having them at home, ordering various blends from our favorite local roasters, trying different brew methods, and making occasions out of our mornings — sitting at our table and catching up, exchanging interesting finds, discussing dinner plans, or even just reading for a while before going our respective ways, or letting the day bleed into lunch if we’re so inclined.

Jigsaw Planet / Barnsley Museums.

Easy Activities

I’m not one for video games, but a good parlor game cheers me up anytime. Dominos after dinner are a favorite, or Solitaire when I’m bored on my own. Cocktails aren't essential but a fun addition for sure; the only key is old fashioned games and nothing digital for a full immersion. On the other end, as a puzzle lover with no actual puzzles around, Jigsaw Planet became a savior when museums like the Barnsley and Ashmolean began uploading daily works of art to pass the time while they remain closed. Even better, was the day I finally ran out of archived museum pieces, and realized you could just search any subject or artist on Jigsaw Planet’s homepage to find an endless supply of new images to tackle.

Transcription

Writing has been nearly impossible at times, and journaling even unthinkable. I have much to be grateful for at this time of course, keeping gratitude and even regular journals in the past, but nowadays the only calming form of journal-keeping I have found has come in the form of commonplace transcription. The words of others have always soothed me when I am at a loss for my own, and gathering them into a single place allows for easy revisiting. I don't search for anything in particular to add, I find that whatever bit I need pops into my head on its own, and I’ll simply write from memory or look it up to find in full. Mine includes poetry, motivational quotes, song lyrics, and even favorite novel passages.

Home

Home has been talked about a lot, obviously, and in that I am no different. In “Five Things...” I spoke about spring cleaning and rearranging, and while I get overwhelmed with large-scale household projects, small, daily updates have been a joy. Sorting out one storage box, tackling one bookshelf, hanging one print finally, seem like nothing but are undeniable accomplishments and easily achievable goals. I set a timer for thirty minutes a day when I would otherwise be procrastinating, pick a corner, and get to work. At the end, it’s one more thing I’ve done, and one less thing to worry about later.

NBC / Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist.

Media

I envy everyone in the world who has been able to get through their endless queues in this time. I honestly tried but found myself experiencing sensory overload less than ten minutes into anything for the first several weeks in isolation, and much like the rest of my activities found the only way forward was through old fashioned methods and unconventional (for me) media. On television, the only thing I’ve been able to watch was the recent musical dramedy Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist, patiently awaiting each new episode as it aired in classic weekly format. Following a young coder as she accidentally acquires the ability to read people’s minds through song, I was surprised to find myself loving this show (while the talent and plot are undeniably amazing, musical television has never been my thing) and its prescient message of connection at this crazy coincidental time. Having just closed out the first season, I can’t wait to hear if a second one is picked up soon.

Album Covers via Spotify.

Music

Much the same, music was difficult at first too, and I found myself making a completely odd playlist of the only things I could stand to hear, usually a single song or album portion per day, and not limiting myself to what might be considered relevant music or what I thought I should be listening to based on my usual style. I found that most unintentionally covered the topic of loving from afar, somehow, perfectly. Childhood and teenage favorites joined by the likes of new discoveries (shoutout to a friend for introducing me to the wonder of Lucy Dacus and the now-favorite album “Historian”), old road trip favorites, the scores from Emma., Phantom Thread, and Normal People, and finally The Mamas & The Papas’ “Dedicated To The One I Love” from that episode of Schitt’s Creek.

Reading

I wrote a book review a couple of weeks ago, discussing my inability to read and how I spent the entire months of March and April with that single book, Martine Murray’s The Last Summer of Ada Bloom. I would still highly recommend it for anyone seeking a read that encapsulates the feelings of loneliness and isolation one might feel cooped up at home. Since then, I have been miraculously able to begin reading again, at a moderate pace (fingers crossed I haven’t just jinxed myself) and read not one but two books that have been comforting, in their own ways. Everything I Know About Love by Dolly Alderton was like reading an older sister’s diary, full of escapades and realities we might not always want to face while searching for ourselves, but ultimately ending in hope and lots of heartwarming advice on self-love, friendship, and fearless growth. I am now reading Jenny Offill’s Weather, after hearing it described as the perfect read for this time. I’m not sure I would describe it as cheerfully comforting, but I think the descriptor is spot on. Offill’s fragmented style is easy to read and oh so real in capturing feelings of doom while trying to keep it all together. While it discusses the time around an unnamed (but recognizable) election, I feel less alone reading it in the current climate, knowing the things I feel have been felt before and not only by myself.

Clothing

With a life and career spent studying fashion, clothing has always been my most comforting pursuit, and continues so. The most important thing will always be comfort in my own skin, and what I wear acts as the catalyst to that, whether a voluminous sleeve or skirt to ensure personal space, or a perfectly fitting knit to feel protected and held together. Pajamas have always been my standard home look, whether wintery separates or delicate slips and floral robes, but I found my days melting together, even if changing from one set to the next between breakfast and dinner. Still, I have found my body tender in these times, trying on beloved pieces in the morning and finding that no, that won’t work today, or no, this doesn’t feel right. As it is spring, I am most often running to my dresses, and no longer reserving the line between “at home” and “out” between older things I would throw on for ease or nicer, newer things saved for brunches and other outings. The most comfortable I feel now, at any time, is wearing whatever makes me feel human again.

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Raquel Reyes is Creative Director at The Attic on Eighth. She enjoys styling photo shoots, old fashioned cocktails, and reading every book published on a single topic she can find.