Moon Memo: Just Listening
Good morning from Portland, on the cusp of spring. Last night I was depressed, and took myself out on a date. New listening bar and movie about a composer. Credit card switched with a rich bastard. Bartender grateful at my return, looked like she had been yelled at. I never yell. That's useless. Brain fogged by anger at work, the lack of structures and processes. Anarchy doesn't get shit done if you have orientation every two weeks.
But I'm going to avoid talking about work today, because I don't want work to encroach into my weekend anymore. I just had a lovely soak in the bathtub, wrote 2 poems while there, read Alice Notley's Paris Review interview, and now am typing with an ambient CD on in a machine other than my computer. This is peak Misha. As my friend Elodie said, "Has anyone ever told you you really know how to relax? Like it’s admirable." And I'm leaning into that relaxation. Which looks like writing. Which looks like work.
You write a little every day, and don't pretend that this is genius. But when you write a little every day, it's like genius will come, and rest with you a while, and maybe tell you a story. So you light your fire, make coffee, and write a little bit to summon her, road weary and looking for a place to settle.
Last night-Listening Bar. Have you ever sat in a place and knew you were actually sitting in someone's imagination, in someone's dream? That's what it felt like when I settled down in the listening bar. Italian pop jazz on the stunning sound system. A small perfect bar with small perfect snacks. Cheese toast and a non-alcoholic Italian Lager. Every couple of minutes, the bartender changing the turntable, playing the next record. Early enough to have the quiet opening energy. Attention if wanted, but not too much. Later in the night, DJ playing funk dance music, which is its own kind of Friday night energy. I'm here for the end of the work week quiet shift, early bar hours. Blissful.
I've been facinated with the idea of a Japanese Jazz Kissa, little bars found around Japan dedicated to playing Jazz. Not a place for background music, but a place to listen. Learned about them from Craig Mod, my favorite blogger. He did a long walk around an area with amazing Jazz Kissa a few years ago, made short recordings of these bars. Here are a few.
his bar has that Kissa feeling. And no wonder: the owner fell in love with the idea as well. He has thousands of records, and wanted a place to share them. So. This little bar, in the bones of a many year old Vegan Coffee shop. I want to keep this place open.
The reading went well. 25 people, 19 readers. They want me to take over and host more. I said no. I am not here to host. I'm here to read, and to write.
Listening to Ambient Music while typing. Sending little messages to dear friends. Sometime a nude. Sometimes just a little hello. Depends on the person. Depends on the relationship. I am so happy to be alive. I wasn't earlier this week. I carried that poison pill of death with me, but I didn't swallow it. I won't swallow it. Too much life to live, and too much joy to have. Including this joy, writing to you.
Hope you all have a good week.
Misha Lynn Moon
