This is different than how I normally share my work, and I am learning to be okay with that. (Different is good) last year, I moved across the country to join an incredible team at MIT. Ironically, like an artist, I moved quickly; sometimes, I worry too quickly. Not enough goodbyes, closed conversations, or proper endings. I am still learning to be okay with that. These past 6 months have undoubtedly been strange for me, I am still unpacking it all (figuratively and literally), and I think the hardest thing I am still unpacking is the leaving of the art community, the beautifully battered and bruised poets, filmmakers, musicians that I grew up with in Los Angeles. (I’m writing about this and hope to share something more substantial soon; like I said, still unpacking.) This disconnect has weighed really heavily on me, especially in recent months, but I am thankful for a happenstance interaction with a barista a few weeks ago that pointed me to @bostonpoetryslam, a beautiful space of bruised brick and safe landings in an unassuming underground bar here in Boston. Despite being underneath the grease-soaked air of the redline, being in that space, with the eclectic mix of humans that only the northeast can provide, has felt like a breath of air I have been searching for a long time. It’s needless to say, but thank you. Please support your local art scene, and support the artists who make it possible. These spaces are needed; they breathe life into those looking to burn the ghost stories. Sent with love, Donovan Alexander Beck💛☀️