Happy Birthday to The Soul of Things

We are turning 1!

Artwork by @whitingglenn

The Soul of Things turns a wonderful 1 this weekend.

That’s 1 year of writing about love in a variety of guises (including a beloved dog called Frida and a naughty cat known as Hector); I have written about the demise of a miserable relationship via high street furniture shopping, understood why “a good breakfast” is so important in matters of the heart and stomach, conducted my first interview on the subject of death and cake, researched the exquisite history of the heart (as a life source, as a poem) and shared some true stories on the power of magical clothing.

Thank you so much for joining me, reading along and sending me your own stories and experiences.

It’s been a huge pleasure delving into this passion of mine and I wholeheartedly recommend doing something you have always wanted to do; synchronised swimming? divination? ceramics?

Though at times my full time job in fashion media has led me to regret the trajectory of my career (last summer I was so stressed that my hands started to tingle and turn numb) I know that without Art Direction I would not be in a position to put this amount of love into my writing, nor would I be in Berlin.

I hope that you’ll stick around for a few more sentences and allow me to ruminate a little on my writing process and this first year on

Substack

.

Sometimes my ideas become bigger than the actual essays I write and bigger than me. 

I rush through and finish in an effort to try and contain them but they occasionally slip from my grasp. When this happens, I’m left with a temporary feeling of something being lost or stolen.

There is learning there.

Although the accountability of trying to produce every few weeks is motivating, I think for some pieces I need to make a little more space so that I can say all I want to say without feeling like I’m going to miss the moment.

Other times when writing, I have the thrilling sensation of leaning over the edge of a cliff. This sensation has actually always been present when I’m writing but became more noticeable this year as I pushed myself to complete longer, more fleshy pieces.

Sometimes the only thing I want to do is write yet it’s the last thing I can possibly do and I find myself doing everything except writing, including excessive cleaning, clothes rail by colour arranging, overambitious hair removal-ing or the absolute worst: red wine and Gossip Girl-ing.

But instead of counting the hours lost to laundry and Netflix, I’ll consider the times that I did show up to my desk; in the summer when it was 35 degrees and I had to type with my feet in a bucket of cold water, in winter when I took my laptop to smoky bars to write by candlelight and during short breaks in large productions when I returned home thinking I was going to have an actual mental breakdown over missed flights, cinematographers and model bookers.

This is all to say, I don’t really have a system yet.

But I have made progress.

I acquired a large pink hourglass which runs for 90 minutes and when desperate, I plonk it on the table, hide my phone and write nonstop. A practice borrowed from Rachel Rabbit White.

I have dabbled in writing workshops. 

I took Amber Petty’s Pitching Course earlier this year. She’s a fabulous source of energy and encouragement. I also met with

Erin Shetron

to discuss my next steps.

I read

Alexandra Roxo

of Ripe Fruits, The Situation and the Story by Vivian Gornick and Pop Song by

larissa pham

. I refer often to Joan Didion's essay collection The White Album, particularly her essay on Georgia O'Keeffe. I thoroughly enjoyed Laura Freeman’s The Reading Cure as well as In The Kitchen Essays on Food and Life by Daunt Books.

​​I bought myself a wooden desk and decorated it with books, postcards from my parents, countless cups of milky tea, a green and yellow chequerboard vase, a clam shell, plenty of thick black ink pens and a dream or two.

I turned 36, stuck on the couch with covid but happy enough to gaze out the window at the tops of the trees from my apartment amidst the clouds of Berlin where the crows come to roost and cackle.

And perhaps most exciting of all, I arranged some time off work so that I can focus on my writing life for the next few months.

Highlights from the year:

Most popular;

Most opened;

Closest to my heart;

Most difficult to write;

I’m very grateful to be celebrating this next chapter with more beautiful and now animated artwork by @whitingglenn.

I would also like to Thank my

Substack

friends:

Eve Matheson

Emily

And

Erika Veurink

for supporting my work and helping to generate subscribers through their shares, comments and recommendations.

Thank you for reading and please do let me know if there are any topics you would like to see covered in the coming months.

I will be continuing to write about love, relationships, food and will also begin to add poetry to my offerings.

See you in your inboxes soon.

Alice x

Introducing Love Lists;

October

Homemade chicken soup and noodles left at my door by a girl who embodies the sunshine.

A sweet American stranger who comforted me after yoga and walked with me in the dark. 

Suddenly receiving new silver keys, to accompany my new life.

Countless messages of support with love hearts, stars and kisses.

Noticing for the first time in a while how beautiful the light looks through the trees.

The welcome return of the cold; wooly jumpers and leather boots.

New possibilities that bend and grow like flowers.

Pale sunlight dancing in the swimming pool.

The feeling of being home. 

Knowing that I still have a long way to go.

Knowing also that everything flows. 

The relief of rain.

A bunch of dried lavender wrapped in gold string. 

White wine, cigarettes and poetry. 

The heavy, healing night. 

Hot water bottles, thick red scarves and promise. 

Another new day.