moon list: july 2026

Dear You,

I helped my brother move into his new place on Saturday. I was down there for just a day, took the first bus down and the last bus back up.

As ever, it was good to see him, especially as he my niece have been in Austin for the past month and a half. I ask what they did, and it mostly seems to be lounging at my parents’ place because it was too hot to do anything.

The move was easier than I’d expected. As usual, mattresses are too heavy and too unwieldy. But it feels like a good new start for my brother.

—

1. orienting points (name 3 orienting “suns” in your life. Sources that, if you trace far enough back, much of the rest of your life radiates out from.)

Threadless, which I don’t think about at all anymore, despite the fact that it’s responsible for so much of my socialization as a youth, friendships that continue to now, and really how I use the internet and conduct myself online. It also opened me up to a wider range of art, helped me understand graphic design and illustration.

Writing is probably too broad of these “suns”, but still. It’s how I navigate life, where I put my most energy into, for better and worse. Much like Threadless, it’s opened me up to such a vast range of people from different parts of the world.

And probably the most recent “sun” is the old camera shop I worked at. I’m realizing that nearly every current friendship goes back to that store in some way. It’s also…weirdly a place where I understood how good of a person I am, how easy “customer service” is when I just try to be a good person to the people around me by default. Like, it has made me so much more confident about how I engage with my community.

(I also say that after having a stress dream last night where I went back to work there. One of those dreams that I had to force myself awake, sweaty all over.)

2. nina simone’s gum (what’s something in your possession you’ll never throw out because of whose hands it passed through first, even though it would look like garbage to anyone who found it [… perhaps it is actually garbage]?)

I’m positive I have more than a few examples of this. I know I have the setlist from an Islands concert somewhere in my possession. It’s literally piece of brown paper with illegible writing, but they were one of my favorite bands at the time.

A lesser version of this: I have a random picture of Arnold Schwarzenegger folded up in my wallet. It’s from back in his younger, bodybuilding days. A friend (from Threadless, no less) gave it to me decades ago. I wasn’t even particularly close with him (Justin), but it was just a funny thing to have, a strange lucky charm, an odd conversation starter.

3. who me? (when have you seen yourself through someone else’s eyes and not recognized the person looking back? perhaps it was a something written about you, or a photo that didn’t look like you, or hearing a recording of your own voice.)

I mean, I feel like anyone’s interpretation of me feels off, which is less about other people and more about my natural inability to feel like I’m ever fully myself (no one can ever truly be known and all that).

I was hanging out with a friend, and she said that I was strong, which took me by surprise. I’ve never really considered myself as strong in any way, but she specifically meant physically so. It had me thinking about working at the camera shop, and I realized how many times I was the one asked to assist with carrying enlargers, heavy boxes, things like that.

I don’t know if that’s proof of strength or proof of my availability.

4. invisible forces (what’s the story you tend to tell yourself when something unexplainable happens: is reality usually out to get you, or is it looking out for you?)

I mean, it really depends on the thing, but the poetic answer is that I tend to land somewhere in the middle. The bigness of reality, all the interconnected branches and leaves and people. It’s a bit of both.

The “real” answer: I don’t even think you need to be particularly political to understand that post-capitalist society accounts for and explains a lot of things.

5. me seeing you (think of a person you know intimately. what are some mannerisms you observe about them that they might have never clocked themselves?)

When my mom laughs, the corners of her eyes wrinkle up in such a specific way. I also love the way she laughs at something really funny, like the front part of the letter ‘q’ over and over. I’m realizing I’ve adopted that in a slight form.

6. you seeing me (who, or what, shows you the version of you that feels like coming home to yourself? where you feel seen for exactly who you are. maybe it’s a sibling, a mentor, a partner. maybe it’s a poem, a fictional character, a line stolen from a film, a work of art?)

There’s something to older movies in general that feels like it brings me back to myself.

Maybe art in general. I haven’t read Steinbeck in years, but there’s something about his work that does feel like coming back to some version of myself.

And maybe that also just includes live wrestling. I’ve felt untethered because I haven’t been to a live wrestling show in months.

I don’t really have a lot of people who make me feel like home. This is maybe the lack of romance in my life. Or me constantly feeling like I’m on the outside. Or just the fact that I don’t know what home is supposed to feel like anymore.. It’s not any commentary on the people I love (again, you can never truly know anyone, myself included).

7. talking to strangers (when’s the last time someone you’d made up your mind about surprised you?)

The base example of this is my niece. Because she’s still young, still growing, she’s a constant surprise. She and her dad stayed a night last week, and she was talking about anime, ranking her huzzies (husbands) from the show. Just delightful and fascinating.

8. with my back to the world (what are you keeping your back to right now? something you are intentionally safeguarding, refusing to look at, or allow outside input from.)

Hmm, the big and unwieldy answer: my future. Which is stupid to say now that I actually see it written out, but I do feel like I’m at this point where I need to start making big decisions about what I’m doing with my life, who I want in my tomorrows, where I even want to live.

The lesser (but kind of related) answer: my job. But that’s more… I just really hate talking about my job. Because it’s impossible to explain. Because I barely understand it. Because we live in a world where people are so disconnected from writing as a human effort. I’ll often just say, “I’m a copywriter”, as shorthand, and I’ve had enough people ask, “What’s that”, that I’ve just stopped saying even that.

9. front burner

• Friday Night Lights (it was about time for a rewatch)

• Bicycle Thieves

• The Furious (maybe the most disappointing film this year)

• Obsession

• Jackass: Best and Last (committing to film this idea that you want to keep going but your body physically can’t is one of the most human things I’ve ever experienced)

• I keep thinking about this piece from Alex Sujong Laughlin about the dang trend of neighborhood trinket boxes.

• I’m also a big fan of her newsletter.

• I feel like I make some variation on these sweet potato tacos once a week.

• I don’t think I’ll ever go full non-alcoholic, but I’m at an age where alcohol just isn’t all that enjoyable like 45% of the time. Which is how I’ve been getting more into stuff like Pathfinder.

• I feel like I should be more into that new Phoebe Bridgers song (which I think is totally fine), but I’ve been going back and listening to more Mom Jeans.

• I’ve done that really stupid, foolish thing of starting five different books at once. I’m trying to focus my energy to just one, and that one currently is Tommy Orange’s Wandering Stars, which is pretty great, reminds me of Faulkner in the sort of bigness of family and ancestors, and I didn’t realize it’s a direct sequel to There There.

—

It was smoky today, which means wildfire season is underway here. I think a lot about how I moved up here from SoCal to escape the wildfires, back when I thought that was still possible.

I hope you’re well. I hope you have an air purifier, something cool to drink, some blue sky to stare into.

Love,

A