Midsummer Updates: Recovery, Art, Garden, Protest and Pride
Living through fatigue, rebirth, rage, joy and pride.... What a month it has been!
Hello Ponders,
It’s been a minute since I last wrote! After an unusually cool and rainy Spring, Summer has made its appearance at long last. I’ve finally regained my strength from the month-long struggle with pneumonia and the resulting severe fatigue.
During my slow recovery, I studied the art of chinoiserie, and drew and painted through the difficult period. I can say from hindsight that art saved me from drowning in overwhelm and depression.
In the midst of my sickness, another round of corporate layoff shook me up. I was enraged by the cold way it was executed. Even though it was done the same way as all other layoffs in the past, this time it hit hard as several of my favorite and close coworkers were let go, without warning.
It was tough to return to work, as if nothing had happened. Nothing was able to soothe my aching heart.
My Artistic Passion Rekindled
Then I turned to art, and I got lost in time. When I was drawing or painting, the roaring currents of a white river suddenly turned into a calm lake. On this calm lake, I was able to unwind and find peace.
Here is the progress I made in the past month:
(Re)discovering the art of chinoiserie played a major role in my recovery as it connected me to my ancestors’ tradition in a way that no words could achieve. The history of this form of art/craft is rich. I’ll write more about it in the future. But what’s interesting here is that my father used to paint chinoiserie art on antique reproduction furniture and as murals in people’s homes on Long Island, New York. I didn’t pay much attention to what he did back then as I was living abroad and also didn’t really appreicate this form of artistry. But upon studying its history, my passion for it has been kindled, and I look forward to creating my next piece.
My Secret Garden
As I mentioned earlier, this Spring had been unseasonably cool. When I dragged my tired body to the community garden in late May, I was delighted that the cool air had lingered, because it would allow me to plant seeds of veggies that prefer cooler temperatures—radishes, mustard, kale, mesclun salad, spinach, etc. It was as if Nature waited for me for a whole month to regain my health and slowed down the onslaught of unrelenting heat (which we’re experiencing right now).
My local community garden is a godsend for those of us who live in apartments and don’t have any land to grow things. I’ve been renting two small plots to grow vegetables and flowers for a few years. This is my fourth growing season. In addition, I and a gardener buddy decided to start a cut flower garden plot this year.
At the end of the last season, I did not remove all of the snapdragons that bloomed profusely throughout Spring and Summer. They were so deeply rooted that I couldn’t pull them out of the ground. I thought they wouldn’t be able to survive the winter. But early in the Spring, I saw buds. And in a few weeks’ time, they were in full glorious bloom! They taught me a lesson about our modern misconception of productivity—I’ll write about this and my many “gardener’s philsophy” in a seperate edition.
I’ll never get over the mind-blowing power of a tiny seed bursting open from a dark, moist place, turning itself into its destiny. Below, I’ll show you the progression from tiny sprouts to veggies—some of which are ready to eat already after one month:
A lot of work has been put into nourishing these seedlings—weeding, watering, adding compost and fertilizers, fensing off the free-range chickens at the farm, etc. Getting my hands and knees dirty in the soil has allowed me to connect with Mother Earth intimately. As a self-appointed Gardener Philosopher, my mind is nourished while I work with Nature to grow these veggies. At the same time, I haven’t experienced much depression lately, thanks to being exposed to the beneficial micro organisms in the soil1 that serve as a natural form of antidepressant. I also have every reason to believe that the nutrient-rich veggies have helped me with my healing.
Power to the People: ‘No Kings Day’ Protest
On June 14, I went out to the streets and joined thousands in the small Hudson Valley river town Beacon, NY, to march and protest against the egregious executive overeach by Trump’s regime, and his attempt to turn himself into a king.
The size of the crowd that day was many times of the one I attended back in April (just before I fell ill). The level of rage was higher, but hope was also more palpable. In united chants of “Donald Trump has got to go!” and “This is what democracy looks like,” protestors felt for the first time in what seemed to be years, that the power of the people was actually real and necessary to stop Trump from inflicting further harm to Americans.
As the estimate of the nationwide protests surfaced, that hope reached an all-time high. 13 million people! That number exceeds 3.5% of the population—a threshold that could overthrow a tyrant, according to social scientist Erica Chenoweth of Harvard University’s John F. Kennedy School of Government and Maria Stephan of the U.S. Institute of Peace. 2
I was elated to see so many people waving the American flag to reclaim the narrative that we who support democracy are patriots (not MAGA).
Of course, a one-off event like this is not enought to topple a regime that’s so hell bent on destroying the foundations of a democratic society that Americans (but not all) had enjoyed up until recently and had taken for granted. Peaceful protests and resistence need to be sustained for as long as necessary until the tyrant and his syncophant enablers are gone.
This is why organizing and joining local communities in this fight is so important. I’m fortunate to have made a friend during my first local protest back in March, who in turn invited me to events organized by the local chapter of Indivisible.
A few days before No Kings Day, I attended a sign-making party organized by this local chapter. It was a great opportunity to make friends with like-minded, engaged citizens in my community. Most of them have lived through the 60s and recognized the urgency of our current situation—a crisis! I shared the history of democracy protests in Hong Kong since the days of the Tiananmen Square Massacre (my first political protest, back in 1989), and the recent protests against Chinese interference of Hong Kong’s sovereignty in 2015-2019. Someone said, “Boy, are we not catching up fast here in America!”
We made signs and crowns with symbols supporting immigrants and peace. This is the one I made, with glittery stickers and shimmering paint to express the JOY of my vision!
My goal is to highlight the vision of how we once lived—as a melting pot. It’s important to show the world not only what we don’t want but what we want! The rainbow colors of the lettering double as a symbol for LGBTQIA+ Pride.
My heart felt full having this chance to make art and engage in political discussions in real life (or, IRL). I believe there should be events like this in every community so people can gather in solidarity to fight for and rebuild the kind of society we want to live in. Every body and every voice counts.
My First Pride Month
I’ve come out as queer this year to a few close friends. I feel like a new bud, with its tender leaves fluttering in the wind. I didn’t—and still don’t—know what that entails in my personal life. I don’t have any new partner after my last partnership with a man child who cheated on me repeatedly. But thanks to that debacle—and a combined total of 25 years of relationships with men steeped in patriarchal mysogyny, I entered a relationship hiatus that allowed my whole being to rest. It was in this “vacuum” where my body, with refreshed clarity, started whispering to me its true desires.
As June is Pride Month, I took the opportunity to attend Pride-related events organized by the LGBTQ+ employee impact group at my company, and made some new friends from the community. It pleasantly surprised me how comfortable and safe I felt in their company.
Yesterday, I attended my local pride event, Pride on the Green in Newburgh, NY. It was the very first Pride event I attende IRL. As I entered the space where an audience was sitting on the grass watching music and drag performances, I immediately sensed a welcoming vibe. I tried to analyze how this crowd was different from the typical crowd in any community events. It dawned on me that something which often made me uncomfortable was missing—the pressure and aggression of the heterosexual male gaze. Everyone there was just having a good time, with or without companions. Lots of children were running around and having fun. As someone who almost always feel out of place in any public event, I felt right at home—even though I was alone.
Another wonderful LGBTQ+ community I’ve found is right here on Substack. For Pride Month,
has been hosting a 30-day creative challenge called #PrideonthePage, inviting writers from the community to respond to their daily prompt. I have only managed to respond to seven of them so far, but I intend to continue. Jay’s prompts have sparked a lot of inspirations in me, and through this challenge, I’ve gotten to know other amazing LGBTQ+ writers, like , , , and more.As I said to Jay today, they have planted a seed and a garden has grown! I’m tremendously grateful to them for starting this garden of wild flowers and providing us with the space to grow and to be in the companion of one another, sharing breaths and roots. 🌱🌱🌱
Are you also an LGBTQ+ writer/artist? I hope you join our community too.
Until next time.
Be well,
Lily Pond
Soil Bacteria Work In Similar Way To Antidepressants:
To overthrow a tyrant, try the 3.5 Percent Solution
https://bigthink.com/the-present/the-3-5-percent-solution/
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Lily, I feel a kind of full-circle joy reading your update—like watching a garden bloom after the first true rain. Thank you for your generous shoutout and for stepping into #PrideOnThePage with so much presence and heart. I cherish your voice in this space, and your companionship too.
What you’ve shared here holds so many layers of aliveness—from brushstroke to protest sign, from soil to story, from queerness whispered to queerness lived. And yes, I want to say it again: this is about being Proud and showing Pride, and that’s a year-long unfolding. It's not confined to June or to those of us who carry the label queer. It's an invitation for anyone daring to grow toward what once felt too far.
Your garden, your art, your resistance, your voice—they are all part of this blooming. I will keep reading, keep witnessing, and keep responding to everyone’s #PrideOnThePage offerings across the seasons. This isn’t a campaign. It’s a way of life.
With steady gratitude and vibrant solidarity—
Jay 🌱🖋️✨
I am happily a Ponder!
If I’m inspired to draw/sketch you something, it will be about this. I’d put it on a tee shirt too! But first! I got to print my THEM CATS ones. :)