Good evening from the evening shift, in the Foster-Powell Triangle. I have quiet electronic music playing: The Focus Group, Boards of Canada, Burial. Candles are light on my altar, redolent with dried roses and wax. New goddess dollies representing a trinity of weirdos: Babalon, Muerte, and Fatima. Sex and death and the weird. A thorn bled me when I consecrated them yesterday. I gave ever last drop.

Since I messaged you last I was given a surgery date: The day before thanksgiving, something was going to be carved. But the out patient surgery center decided I was too heavy for their facility, so they moved my date: new location, new date. Day after New Year. The ball will drop.

It broke me to have my body fail me again. I've lost count of the number of times Ive had doctors tell me I was too heavy for basic medical stuff. I've tried to lose weight. It's never worked. So I let myself be poked and prodded and declared worthless because of my body. It doesn't matter. My surgery is still happening. I just have to wait again.

Recommitment to writing is going well. More poems are being published this year than ever before. I'm on a 30 day streak of poems. Committed to not missing a day next year. And it's better than its ever been. Good as it ever could be. I'm enjoying it. The joy is the point, every morning. Coffee and words.

Work continues to hum along.

Watched an incredible film, Train Dreams. I don't want to say anything about it. It's on Netflix (though I saw it at the Hollywood Theatre). If you want to know what it was like for my great grandfather, as a worker in lumber yards, as a tinker, at the turn of the last century, go check it out. It's a stunning film, of quiet men and the mysticism of grief.

Rhea Arachne is a friend of mine, who makes loops of haunting beauty with her viola. She has the first of two EPs out right now. You should check it out: https://rheacarachne.bandcamp.com/album/a-cry-for-the-night

Her invocation of the muses sent me into a trance state a few months ago that was as profound as anything I experienced in Quaker Meeting: https://rheacarachne.bandcamp.com/track/invocation-of-the-muses

Life is short; go be a thing.

Life continues in it humble ways. Beautiful friends. Bodies. Food. Music. Tapping in the dark. I'm glad to be alive.

Love you a bunch.

Misha Lynn Moon