dire me 4

(This was written a week or two back, so if you’ve been hanging out with me and time seems warped in what follows, my tenses wrong–it’s because I’m posting this late.)

1 (leaving Montana)

Our last days among the Rockies were spent at Miscon–Missoula’s local SF/F con–and shoveling our junk into boxes, cramming those boxes into the Uhaul. When we find an extended home for our meat to rest in, I think a drastic culling will occur. We aren’t shiny-hungry magpies squatting in a nest of glitter-skinned corporate offal. We like books, and musical equipment just sort of appears ’round us (usually with the help of money, but sometimes not. Eg: the garage dwelling drum recently forced into our possession), and don’t own much of the useless trinketry that other semi-affluent Americans drag behind them in a smear of materialism. But what we do own is more than enough to make me twitchy.

After packing, we headed to Portland. I blasted our first album, SEED, all the way through the Cascades, because we were finally finally going home. Knowing that we’re back west for good, that we don’t have to return to Montana, was a shock of relief, a slough of heavy dry heat, the fading crackle of pines, the clearing of August smoke I won’t have to swallow this year.

2 (home)

I’m writing this as we head to Eugene from Western Washington, to claim the apartment me were just offered, and it feels purely right to be blasting the guttural doomy beauty of Insomnium while hemmed in all around by low-bellied skies and leaning coniferous biomass. Big sky country always felt so much more choking to me than the greenthick of the PNW. I am bigger here, and closer. My potential is expansive.

3 (inward and back)

Though we have a place to sleep in Eugene now, after we sign papers and give people money, we’ll be heading north again to spend time in the Puget Sound for reasons: a birthday, father’s day, a wedding, music, sewing projects. Also sushi. Also Bucky Barnes and Loki.

The past few days have been strange, and warm, and slightly creepy–watching home videos always seems to be that way. Seeing how I’m still very much myself no matter where in time I am. Mostly, I was looking for glimpses of Tinker (the dog I grew up with)–hunting bees, stealing sandwiches, gnawing on off-limits Christmas presents. But still, it was amusing to see smaller, jumpier versions of my sister and I scuttling about on-screen.

4 (music)

March 2012: SEED released
June 2013: Winterwheel released.

Going by the above, Moss of Moonlight is due for another album release. Bittersweet truth: it’s gonna be awhile. And while there is one brewing, it’s slow in the making (we’ve had a name for it for more than a year now)–but only because it’s bigger, and spells expansion and evolution.

Meanwhile, we’re working on two other projects–the first is a Cascadian black metal collaboration called Old Man of the Lake. We’re working with an ex-housemate of ours to make something dirty and raw, and sharp. (I just heard one of the last tracks–despite the catapulting squirrels I was watching out the window while listening, it was a massive song, and haunting, and I cannot wait for it to be given to other ears.)

The other project is doomier, and apparently features me on lead vocals (ugh. nervewracking.)–it has a name, and an album title, both of which are safely skull-locked for the moment. But as we get established in Eugene, those two works should come together quickly; we hope to have fresh-birthed music to share by the end of 2014, or early-early 2015.

(expanse)

Just a list to end on:

pink
tightrope
catkin
firn
cordial
unearth
lolita
back forth
||:again:||

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