Talking about texture
Coming to you from Brazil covered in bug bites and forever sweating
Oi! As they say in Brazil. It has been a minute since I barged into your inbox. I hope you’ve been well.
Coming to you live from Ilhabela, Brazil, one week into my three-week artist residency. It’s hot, humid, and infested with little flies called borrachudos that are not to be fucked with. I’ve settled into a nice non-routine routine. Most days involve a walk down (and back up) the super-steep hill from the house to dip in the ocean, writing, percolating, resting. There’s a noisy parrot commute that happens each morning and evening. We’re currently getting a little respite from the heat with some rainy weather. A welcome change from constant sweating and a nice excuse to hunker down in the studio.
Being in Brazil and Mexico City en route has been refreshing. Latin American culture is so different from that of North America. The rules are just suggestions, especially when it comes to driving – people do as they please, and everyone sort of adapts and flows around that. It works when everyone is on the same page. It takes a moment to adjust, but I kind of love it. Sometimes a bit jarring, certainly, but it nudges (shoves) you out of the complacency of operating on autopilot. The chaos and messiness just add texture. And lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about texture. Or the lack of it.
A few months ago, I looked around my home, all tidy and clean and quiet, and it just felt a little soulless. It was missing some texture. Signs of other lives, of busyness, or fullness that can’t be contained. And if you know me, you know I love a tidy space but I also value being confronted and made to adapt. Flexibility is a skill that requires tending to, and I don’t want to become so set in my ways. One of the most common things with growing older is the narrowing of our perspectives and our settling into more fixed ways of being. And as I approach 40 this year, I want to actively counter that trajectory.
It feels like there’s a collective goal to keep things smooth and efficient. And that may be good for some aspects of life. But having everything be so friction-free just feels… lacking.
Then I saw this post… and felt called out. I’m guilty of opting for the wholesome, healthy route more often than not – I’ll plead the grief card of coming out of a few years of self-imposed isolation, but still.
TL;DR:
Fuck your sleep score.
Go out on work nights.
I’m tired of everyone identifying as having social anxiety all the time. I’m tired of the glorification of being antisocial. I’m tired of everyone being so overwhelmed all the time. It happens, for sure. But prioritizing fun feels like the theme of 2026, at least I hope it can be. Because the current state of the world isn’t going to change or improve because we all stayed home and doomscrolled.
As someone who remembers the time before we optimized our lives and started doing 12-step skincare routines, I really value those experiences. Many of the comments on that post argue it’s out of touch or tone deaf, “in this economy,” or that working from home makes it difficult or, or, or… But it’s not suggesting you go out and get blackout drunk and spend all your money. Have friends over for dinner. Have a book club that goes a little later than 9 pm *clutches pearls*. Simply make plans and stick to them without flaking for the sake of living your life. Life is short. I want to spend time with people I love. I want to have house parties again. If the world is on fire and we all feel helpless about it we may as well have some fucking fun while we burn.
I hear you rolling your eyes at me. And I’m going on the record here to say I vote we bring back messiness. Accept the sleep deficit. Show up for each other.
Thank you for reading.
If you hated that, reply with why – I am genuinely curious.
If you loved it, let’s hang out :)
Dre, xoxo