Hello again, friends and strangers.
I told my friend Amelia the other night that I once read an interview with Joan Didion where she said she can only work on one thing per year. I was intrigued, but Amelia was horrified; she said prefers there to be a thousand creative things going on at once, because everything feeds into everything else, in her swirling ecosystem of meaning-making.
At my core, I’m more like Amelia. But lately I’m inching closer to Joan Didion’s “annual project” vibe—which is why there haven’t been many (any) newsletters in a while.1
I have been busy writing! I’m realizing lately that I can only occupy one “writing universe” at a time. While the living ecosystem of my creative life may still be going full-blast all around me, my focused research-brain is a tender, sensitive, high-maintenance being. It requires blinders, a warm room, and months of fermentation time.
Below are a few things of the things I was working on for the last ten months. And now that those words are packaged up in their beautiful (printed!!!) bodies, I can re-enter the writing universe of this newsletter, which is basically like… “pick a thing, obsess about it for a while, share, repeat.”
“Finding Win Ng” for The Believer
I still can’t believe I got to do this. You may have read my newsletter about Win Ng, the late San Francisco artist whose multidisciplinary practice gifted us so much, including Taylor & Ng2, an early lifestyle brand whose pioneering approach to retail still reverberates in culture today. I spent most of 2024 working on a feature story about his life and practice, forthcoming in The Believer magazine, which I’ve described to my boomers as “kinda like an indie New Yorker from San Francisco.”
I learned so much. I’m humbled that deputy editor Natalie So believed I could write this piece, and I was so bolstered by the collaborative process of working with her. I’m grateful to Win Ng’s family and friends for journeying back decades into their memories so that we all might know a little more about him.
The issue’s cover depicts a fantasy dinner party that I was invited to, but you don’t see me because I’m hiding in the bathroom trying to think of things to say to the other guests, contributors and article subjects—Martine Syms, Hilton Als, Annie Liebowitz (?!). Or wait, maybe I’m the nervous-looking person in the flapper hat and fuzzy blue jacket drinking out of a doggie coffee mug? No. I’m definitely hiding in the bathroom.3
The 2024 Art Issue hits newsstands and the internet on December 19! Head here to use the discount code “Lavelle” and buy the print issue, or get a digital or print subscription. I really recommend reading more of The Believer. It feels better than reading the news.
“Raw, Organic, Natural, Cosmic: Stepping into the Swirl of Eugene, Oregon’s Hippie Fusion,” an essay for Andrew Barton’s FREE FOOD: Earth Eating
I contributed an essay to my friend Andrew Barton’s new book FREE FOOD. My piece is about moving to Eugene, Oregon as a teenager and becoming totally radicalized to food as a political and social medium for shaping a life of values.
Andrew and I went to high school together in Eugene, and became friends when we were both living in Portland after college. He is a wildly prolific creative person—he writes books, he publishes other people’s books, he has a tape distro, he has a secret restaurant, he teaches little kids how to do letterpress printing and also be rad humans… and the list goes on. I am forever inspired by how values-driven, human-scaled and community-minded his work is. A true DIY wizard.
From the Two Plum Press website:
“A counterculture cookbook for these strange times. Mixing memoir and loose recipes, this book intends to inspire a “free” approach to cooking and eating. A literally down-to-earth approach – as in: food grown, purchased, cooked, and consumed with an awareness of the Earth.”
I am giddy to contribute to Andrew’s work—which is always so full of heart and authenticity—and still kinda trippin to be in the company of contributors like Jonathan Kauffman (Hippie Food) and Lola Milholland (Group Living and Other Recipes). Order your copy of FREE FOOD here!
“Community Newspapers” and “Respectful Visiting,” for the Encyclopedia of Radical Helping, Thick Press
I am honored to have contributed two short pieces to this deep and rich compendium from Thick Press, a radical printer-publisher who is rethinking bookmaking and bookselling. Taking care of each other—friendship, neighboring, mutual aid, compassion, and patience—is always the best way forward, but perhaps in this tumultuous moment in this broken world, it’s the VERY best way forward.
From their website:
“From “abundance” to “zinemaking,” An Encyclopedia of Radical Helping invites the reader to wander through a collection of interconnected entries on helping and healing by over 200 contributors from the worlds of social work and family therapy; art and design; body work; organizing; and more…this world-making collection reveals a pluriverse of helping practices grounded in love and freedom.”
It’s just so full—massively THICK with a perfect lay-flat binding, and deliciously hyperlinked in the spirit of A Pattern Language. I haven’t glimpsed every entry but some of my favorites so far are “public benefits,” “radical inclusion,” “professionalism without performance,” “boredom,” and “grief as non-liner.” There are so many more. I’ll stop there because I’m working on a bigger post about this heavy tome.
Order your copy here; they’re generously selling them for the cost of printing.
And finally… this has nothing to do with writing but instead with the swirling ecosystem of my creative practice: my friends and I are having an open studios / art sale in Olema, California this weekend. If you find yourself in West Marin this weekend, come see us: Saturday December 14 from 12-6 and Sunday December 15 from 12-4, at 9960 CA-1 in downtown Olema. (It’s not a big town; we’re the one building at the crossroads that is not a hotel.)
I’ve worked upstairs in the old Olema post office for seven years and while it’s always had creative oomph flowing around, I feel like it’s in an era of extra activation, buzzing with an electric energy of artists and friends, the roadside artist studio compound I’ve dreamed of.
I’ll be on the ground floor this weekend, slinging soft cotton t-shirts adorned with earths, flowers, and peace signs. Rob Moss Wilson made paintings, drawings, t-shirts, and new Riso prints. Down at the other end of the compound John Gnorski is selling flash-sheet drawings, made fresh while you chill and have some tea. On Sunday we’ll be joined by Tess Rubinstein and Van Waring—gosh these are all my favorite artists, I can’t believe they’re also my friends! On Saturday Charlie Callahan welcomes you into his studio, with a bajillion starfish sculptures and several new zines just out from Pigeon Milk Press. Tucked into the center of it all, Talc Studio opens up their freshly-mopped space, and Tama One is hosting their own 2-day market of excellently-curated vendors, with music on Sunday, oh my! What a bustle.
Catch us Saturday for hot nettle tea during a downpour, or on Sunday before you hit up the Christmas play at the Dance Palace or the Eleven Winter Market in Bolinas, or the Gaza Surf Club fundraiser at Brighton Beach (which will move to Olema if it’s raining on Sunday).

Thank you, as ever, for following along and I look forward to sharing in the new year my explorations into various other writing universes.
<3
nicole
Rob tells me my newsletter must be working if people are inviting me to write things, so that makes me feel a little better about neglecting this thing for so long. Thank you and sorry!
I can’t wait to update this Wikipedia page.
Really though, I’m honored to be “and more” on the cover of The Believer.
So sick, congrats! Believer is one of my all-time favorites - so cool to see you in it.
sad I missed the open studios / art sale in Olema but staying tuned for future NorCal events! congratulations on the Believer - that is HUGE.