“Nestled” by Brandy Agun
The nights now surpass the days. The pumpkin vines grow pale and fibrous and the trees trade glory for naked vulnerability. We stockpile wood for the fireplace and dry ingredients for soup. Soon enough, Orion the great hunter will shine out from the velvet darkness above us, snow will fall in the mountains, and we will turn our attention inward–to home, to family, to the hidden life of the soul that emerges when we slow down with the season.
For some, the planet’s quiet spinning away from warmth and sunlight might be cause for sorrow, but for northern cultures, it’s a return to a season of beauty that is fostered by effort and intention. Candlelight, the softest pair of socks you own, the blanket your grandmother crocheted for you, a cup of warm in your hand, soles splayed toward the woodstove, a novel or a journal on your lap. This slow, intentional savoring is hygge, (pronounced hue-guh) a Danish word that translates as cozy, intentional, welcoming, special. It’s a way of being, and it is the theme of Kindred‘s fall issue.
This issue we welcome voices that explore this concept in various ways: How can a parent of three young children find hygge amidst distraction and derailment? What does welcome mean for an American woman whose husband is an immigrant? How can one create rhythms of intention in domestic life when domesticity is linked to soul-crushing expectations? How does one embrace the seasons of cold and darkness when suffering from seasonal depression? Add to that a fair amount of wit, wisdom and humor, and we have a beautiful offering for you this issue.
We welcome seven contributors in addition to our five recurring writers, ranging from debut writers to authors with several books to their credit. This issue of Kindred is just the perfect thing to read when you need a moment of intention, humor, and self-care this season. Don’t forget your cup of warm.
OUR FEATURED ARTIST is Seattle-based painter Brandy Agun, who says, “I come from a place of duality, having been a software engineer enthusiastically enjoying art classes on the side until eventually that flipped and I became a full-time artist. I have been studying art for roughly 35 years and now every day is filled with painting, designing, sketching and photographing. Everyday life motivates me the most – people doing usual things, a busy countertop of household items or the view inside a coffee shop. I’m drawn to quiet, simple moments that are barely noticed and yet so familiar. For me, painting is always a challenge and always growing and evolving. You can visit my website at brandyagun.com or see my work in person at ArtEast or Fogue Gallery both in WA.” Brandy is also on Instagram at @brandyagun.
Cozy without comfort?
Hygge is the posture of the Danes in the long dark months of a northern winter. They create environments of beauty and pleasure, safe from the harsh elements outside. Candlelight in the windows, wood piled high for the hearth, knitted blankets, hot tea, and good books. Everything this hobbit of a girl could ask for.…
Bittersweet
On Tuesday, August 21, 2015, after a 12-½ year battle with United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS), including almost four years’ separation, my husband, Patrick, now with U.S. Legal Permanent Residence (LPR) status, landed at SeaTac International airport. Our 8-year-old son, Solomon, and I were waiting anxiously and I sobbed with elation and relief…
Seeking hoogly
My mom was the one who told me, after hearing it from Betsy Brown, a close friend in Atlanta. “It’s just so hoogly,” she said, describing that perfect cozy feeling when you’re snuggled right where you want to be with the exact people you want to be snuggled with. Betsy told her it was a…
Piece of me
I don’t even look at the clock anymore but can usually gauge the time based on if my husband in still in the bed or not since he rises by 5:00 am. They later confess that they have each been trying to will themselves to wake up before the other one does, their competitive cores…
Last light
It’s late afternoon on a winter Saturday, and I’ve taken my children to the beach for an hour of fresh air, an hour of running around and tossing beach stones into the water before the day is gone. What light we’ll get today in the northwestern corner of the country has already crested and is…
Sticks & stones
My son has a growing collection of twigs and rocks and dead flowers littering our home. I stepped on a crow feather this morning on my way to the coffee maker and I am writing this while looking at a piece of tree bark he tearfully told me he could not live without. He is…
What do you expect?
Hygge is comfort, the long sweater love lingering conversation over coffee leaves falling sweet scents of breads fresh from the oven and joy of the soul. Dreamy. School has begun again, and it always makes me want to rewatch You’ve Got Mail and buy sticky notes. A friend once brought me a bouquet of sharpened…
Getting some help with hygge
No one but me thought it was a good idea to hire a live-in maid and nanny. My mother reminded me that she had raised three kids and worked full time, and still managed to keep a cleaner house than mine, all on her own. My mother-in-law pointed out that neither of my sisters-in-law had maids, and they could actually afford…
Pizza and my place in the order of things
I need a single bowl of tomatoes for dinner, but the plant is overflowing with the delicate orange orbs. It’s the end of an extravagantly fertile summer that began with a slow spring and plentiful rain, a rarity for our high desert climate. My garden has responded to the weather, heavy with produce. As I…
Presence
Think of that feeling when you are cozy. Lit candles are scattered around the room, good food is in your belly, and a hot cup of tea is in your hands. Maybe you are alone, on a no-work day, sitting on the couch with a good book and no bra on under your old, tattered…
Magic is everywhere
We spent our last week of summer on the Olympic Peninsula, nine days nestled in our camper amongst the ancient cedar groves and limitless ferns, near crystal clear turquoise lakes and the vast sand and driftwood grey of the Pacific coast. We read books and played games and skipped rocks. We drank coffee and wine…
A love letter to You: on coldness and warmth
July 2018 Hi, You. It’s the middle of the week, and I’m calm. My to-do list sits mostly empty, as I’m expecting family for the weekend. There won’t be enough beds to sleep in, but sugar consumption and late night conversations will keep us awake in any case. Your name will come up, as it…
