Lyrics by Thomas Bryant.
Randy - Eli Aronson.
Sophie - Emily Hensley.

Dirty Phone Call

American author Willa Cather sent writer and critic Edith Lewis a letter written in from their country house, one of three they shared together. In the first third of the letter, Willa writes from Edith’s room, recounting her delight with the natural world around her. In the second third, she narratively chronicles Jupiter and Venus dancing across the sky. She ends with this statement.

I can’t but believe that all that majesty and all that beauty, those fated and unfailing appearances and exits, are something more than mathematics and horrible temperatures. If they are not, then we are the only wonderful things—because we can wonder.

Immediately after this sentence, she remarks on what a wonderful job Edith did packing her white silk suit; “not a wrinkle.”

The first time I read this letter I felt cracked open by the way Willa so easily captures what it feels like to be in love; the way she flips between mundane observations and the deep and philosophical workings of the cosmos. Willa codes her language, but these words put language to the way I feel; like we’re the only wonderful things left in the universe because she knows I like my tea with oat milk and lots of sugar.

Dirty Phone Call

Murphy Severtson

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