July Diary

Photo By Taryn.

Today, I'm feeling free. For the last few weeks, I have been writing essays, gathering my poetry, and thoughtfully curating content for my Substack in preparation to announce my presence on this platform. I am conscious of my digital footprint, I am realizing to a fault. So today, I am throwing my plan upside down, letting go of preciousness, and without editing, will share this post.

Here goes nothing...

On the 11th, I turned 23. I love birthdays. I don’t usually have too many feelings attached to the number. This year though, I felt a tickle of worry that I would be outgrowing ingenue roles. A friend of mine pointed out via text, “You’ve never been an ingenue though. So who cares. You’re a character actress who happens to be petite. It’s confusing.” Which I took as a huge compliment.

I don’t want much on the 11th of July. Just to gather all of my friends into a room, feed them, make memories, and connect. The only thing I’m particular about is my tradition of lemon cake with strawberry frosting. This year, Adam Himebauch (Linked his NyTimes profile there. It’s good.) surprised me with just that from my favorite bakery. I was eating it from the fridge a few days later - Cake always tastes best from Tupperware - when I discovered an extra special gift upon opening my handy cam. My friend Matthew Donovan had scurried around the party collecting sweet messages and stories from my friends which inspired me to write about them today.

There are too many for one post, but here are a few of my favorites:

True Story. We were new friends at the time, so it was by coincidence that I called on his birthday. He told me he didn’t have any plans. I also had no plans, so I took it upon myself to bake him a cake. I think everyone should feel celebrated on their birthday. We walked riverside park at sunset… One of my favorite memories with Adam Dressner, a lovely oil painter I’ll add. Read about him in this NY Post story.

Matt Starr and I first met at our friend Molly’s wedding in 2021. It wasn’t until the summer of 2022 that I knew he would become one of my closest friends. We made eye contact on 83rd and Amsterdam, but I couldn’t tell if I knew him, or it was his resemblance to Patrick Dempsey that made him familiar. I didn’t stop him, but finally tracked him down through social media. Turns out we lived 3 blocks from each other on the Upper West Side. Matt was fiercely working on his book, and I’d often wander over with gluten-free pastries and watch him perform for me his latest works. We both write poetry and started co-hosting intimate readings downtown, and now, he runs Dream Baby Press . If you’re not familiar with his line-around-the-block erotica readings in strange locales, you’re missing out. I’ve participated in their shenanigans… Amplified by a mic, I once read erotica to about 200 people in the Fi-Di Burger King. Matt and I both moved to Brooklyn and still remain neighbors. He released his first collection of poetry… You can buy his book here.

Taryn makes an appearance at the end of the above clip. I love this quote from an interview about her work; “It’s important to react more than think too long on the street because what you have in front of you is in a state of motion, getting a pause is a gift.” It’s in reference to her street photography, but I think it also applies to acting.

Danny came over to my apartment early to help me hang a lighting fixture. I misjudged the difficulty of this task. My ceilings are about 17ft… A rare find in New York, I’m lucky, I know. But these industrial height tin ceilings come with downsides because we ended up having to balance the ladder on the wobbly slats of my bed and even standing at the very top, he had to tape the screw driver to one of my golf clubs to reach. Close your eyes and imagine that. Danny is brave. He risked his life hanging my oversized Noguchi style pendant. Acts of service are underrated. But listening to him play his banjo upstate on a quiet day in the cabin, singing with him for nobody but us, duo grocery store trips where we skip down the isle, late-night cigarette breaks… Those are my favorite moments with DK.

Julia Randal. One night I was preparing for a performance of Lazarus, I was wandering about the seats before the house opened when I spotted a petite young woman, who felt too cool to talk to because she was wearing a shirt that, in large print across the bust, read, “DADDY”. I was 14, she was 18, and we became instant friends. Just add water and stir. She is the only person that can get away with calling me “stupid whore” as a term of endearment.

Aneesa Folds and I met February of 2020 in the Bahamas. We were there for a theater conference. We ended up gambling, and sneaking around the resort hot tubs after they closed. She’s often touring with FreeStyleLoveSupreme, She’s authentic, warm, and one of the most talented vocalists I’ve ever met. Aneesa, I too, can’t wait to be friends forever.

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A few more July thoughts unrelated to the above…

• July 4th. Spent drinking mocktails in Brooklyn with my mom and some hip downtown kids, Mackenzie Thomas being one. You should read her substack page titled “I WILL DO WHATEVER I WANT” She’s my friend, but I’m also a fan. She told me I’d be good at this and I WILL BELIEVE WHATEVER SHE SAYS.

• If you have to draft the text in your notes app, don’t.

• Two of my orchids bloomed this month. They are intelligent flowers and tend to bloom when good things are coming. Some of my orchid plants I’ve had for over 5 years, proudly. One time 5 bloomed together.

  

• July 21st. I stayed up from 11pm-7am because I fully convinced myself a bear was lurking in the hallway outside my bedroom door. Felt like a little kid scared of what’s hiding in the closet. If you’ve seen When A Stranger Calls (1979) its this feeling:

  

• Me at boxing practice in kitten heels

That’s all for today.

Love Sophia