end of year and new years are similarly architected to wrap up neatly (best of) and begin with results (goals goals goals). i find both extremely stressful, much like a culinary influencer's morning routine i recently read about who meditates, stretches, "matchas" (that should be a west coast verb), works out, and corresponds globally all before breakfast. oof, today mine included a lengthy breakfast order by my 6 year old (oatmeal, ramen, saltines, bread with nutella and applesauce, wtf?) and an earth shaking tantrum by my 3 year old who was so reluctant to go to school after weeks being at my side ("i just want to be with you while you work. can't you homeschool me?"). at one point i just sat on the couch far, light years away from an instagramable morning and i actually felt a lot of softness for the month.
over the break i read a poem that said life is like a 20 minute train ride. that makes me ache to consider but also helps me put these unhinged moments into perspective. the buddhist tradition asks you to contemplate death with each bite (not in a neurotic woody allen way of course) but the fragility of the moment and where we put our time and energy. what if your actions on the train ride somehow mirror how you live your life? mine would be some mix of phone scrolling brain rot (see article in push picks), daydreaming, observation, and regular old reading.
if you're new here i will share what you might expect from this biweekly newsletter: ruminations. this is NOT a shopping mall like so many newsletters have become but rather a place to DISCOVER. and in that spirit of discover we can stay somehow connected and tender to each other as we learn and awe at what swims through our mind. i love learning about you and with you. what a privilege to be on this train ride together.
in the meantime since i started this essay my beloved home city of Los Angeles and today's push pick, also from there, gave an excellent list of resources should you need or want to support in anyway. be safe out there and meet alissa
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Alisa Petrosova is an interdisciplinary artist, writer and narrative strategist. She specializes in the intersection of climate, culture, film & television and believes in the power of storytelling and community to transform our world and collective future for a more just, healthier and beautiful world.
In 2024, Alisa was named one of Grist’s 50 fixers, leaders from across the U.S. who are working on fresh, real-world solutions to our planet's biggest challenges. Previously, she worked at Good Energy where she served as the Director of Climate Storytelling Programs. She holds an MA in Climate & Society from the Climate School at Columbia University and a BFA in Fine Art from the Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science and Art.
Alisa lives and works in Brooklyn, New York, where she hosts Big Love Supper Club with her partner that brings climate storytelling to their dinner table.
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what kind of life do you want to live?
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I want to live a life of Play:
“Play makes room for observation. Observation makes room for play. My days consist of everything from foosball to smashball to drawing to dreaming up the lives of the characters in my film. Even my dreams have become playful. I woke up laughing yesterday.
Through play, I’ve found a groove, I’ve found a flow. The words come flying out. The marks do too.
While developing my film this week, my collaborator and I spoke of the character’s fear of the unknown (climate, war, futures). “But,” she said, “without uncertainty there’s no room for imagination”, which is to say to imagine a different future we must make space for play.
"Play is our adaptive wild card. In order to adapt successfully to a changing world, we need to play. Play is not frivolous, it’s essential.”
— Isabel Behncke, Evolution's Gift of Play, From Bonobo Apes to Humans
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The above excerpt on play is from my own newsletter, Flattening, where I explore the tender spaces between digital overwhelm and intentional living. Through personal essays on everything from play to grief, creative practice to cultural criticism, I am excavating what it means to stay present in an accelerating and warming world – this is a space for those seeking slower rhythms and deeper observation. Subscribe to find your own gentle resistance to the stack.
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alisa's social impact project
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Kooyrigs provides resources to the global Armenian network by launching community projects, implementing educational initiatives, and amplifying marginalized voices.
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Shopping Cart ← to put a pep in your step.
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alisa's article of the week
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The Weird is Biting Back by a dear friend Elie Robins
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Citrus,
You are winter's sweetest promise - a burst of sunshine in shorter days. I remember how you painted childhood mornings with your perfume. You are preserved lemons, you are backyard Meyer trees heavy with gold, you are morning light trapped in segments. The mist of essential oils reminds me that even in winter, California holds summer in its palms. You are memory made tangible, made delicious.
A
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Any loaf from ACQ is perfection, this loaf is pure nostalgia. Like many others during lockdown, I joined the sourdough revolution, obsessing over hydration levels and watching my starter bubble like a proud parent. When I finally achieved that coveted open crumb – those irregular holes that signal bread-making mastery in the West – I proudly showed my mom. She looked at the slice, puzzled. "What are all those holes," she said firmly, remembering the dense, uniform loaves of her Soviet youth. That moment crystallized something about cultural memory: how even the markers of "perfect bread" carry the weight of history.
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Named after Proteus, the shape-shifting Greek god, the King protea feels like nature's masterclass in resilience. In an era where we're constantly navigating environmental grief, there's something deeply comforting about a flower that's been quietly perfecting the art of survival for 300 million years. It's a reminder that transformation isn't always loud – sometimes it's as quiet as a seed waiting in a burnt landscape, holding onto the possibility of bloom.
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and a few picks from push...
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I'm fascinated by this AI opera coming to brooklyn next month--tickets are still available!
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a new study has shown that marmosets have names for each other! The findings make them the first nonhuman primates known to use name-like vocal labels for individuals.
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'brain rot' may be oxford's 2024 word of the year, but turns out thoreau was worried about it all the way back in 1854!
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leaning into this for 2025 as documented by the for scale newsletter:
On gifting: We highly recommend Giftery outside of key Holidays. F*ck Christmas, f*ck birthdays, f*ck Anniversaries — the true joy of receiverhood lies in large part in spontaneity and surprise. Isolated from societal moments of full-throttle consumerism, a gift really feels like something S-P-E-C-I-A-L.
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“Hope” is the thing with feathers
By Emily Dickinson
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
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and finally a lot of us will probably be relying heavily on remedies for headaches and stomach aches in the nauseating weeks to come, so here's my recommendation.
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we hope you are staying warm and that you enjoyed another installment of push picks. as always, if you like what you read, forward it to someone or encourage them to sign up. it would mean the world to us 🌎
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