Friends are forged on the dark road heading out of town. And so we head there again, sojourning across the continent in the name of psychic sanity and spiritual resolve in these most troubled and troubling of times. These are nights in which love letters to life are written and read aloud. There’s some boldness in them. They have that tone. These nights have the mark of our time upon them, and they’re timely, urgent, alert, steeped in mortal mystery. They’re quixotic. They have swagger. What would you call such a thing? We call them Nights of Grief & Mystery. Part poetry, part lamentation, part book reading, part ribaldry, part concert, part lifting the mortal veil and learning the mysteries there…that’s what’s in store.