My two weeks of solid travel begin at 5 AM on the train platform to Chicago.

And here we hold one more issue of Half Mystic Journal in our hands: a home true & unwavering in every shade of night.

From the Editor: The Nocturne Issue

It is a difficult thing to assemble darkness into an act of creation.

I am at my best when the evening falls. I love the way it smells outside, the air of mystery that it creates.

The first time I ever watched a movie in black & white was on invitation from Isabella.

Nocturne is a drive home from the airport. It’s transition. It’s an indescribable ache.

III: Nocturne | Silver-Tipped Swallow: "Qi"

The year I first fell in love with a girl was the year I stopped playing the piano.

The Nocturne Letters: a selection

I believe music can be found in a gesture, the color of the sky, a smile. But possibly I am confounding music with beauty.

And once more, sure as night rings onto the horizon, the third reading period for Half Mystic is closed.

Even now I can wear night like a comfort, even if remembering hurts sometimes. The moments still feel magical.