Leigh Patterson

I am most creatively sharp and better at writing first thing in the morning. Many days I indulge in shameful behavior and get up and make my coffee then return immediately to “Bed Office” where I’ll be propped up with lots of pillows and feral bedhead and write in a fugue state. After this I get up, have breakfast and go for a walk before my actual day begins.

Canyon Gedeb. Brewed in a Moccamaster.

Ten years ago I was reading a magazine on a flight and read an interview with a man named Sam Abell, a former National Geographic photographer who now is in his 80s and lives in the Smokey Mountains. In the piece he mentions a ritual he and his wife developed over the years called The Moon Lists: a set of monthly questions they asked each other to reflect on time passing and catch up on the in-between moments of life. I was curious and wrote to him to ask if he'd be willing to share the list with me, and if I could have his permission to recreate the idea in my own way. Nearly a year later he replied with a very generous letter, and 15 or so of their monthly prompts.

This was the starting point for Moon Lists. It’s taken different forms over the years but essentially I am a dealer of questions – and I write lists of prompts to help notice where your attention is going and to develop a different muscle for observation.

There’s no prescribed way to use the prompts, but often people tell me they use them as part of a daily journaling routine like The Artist’s Way, or that they respond to them together with friends, or a partner, or with their kids.

I think about this quote, from R. Buckminster Fuller: “If you want to teach people a new way of thinking, don't bother trying to teach them. Instead, give them a tool, the use of which will lead to new ways of thinking.”

Moon Lists is not my full time job - more a very persistent side project. I also run a studio called LUCCA, where I create editorial projects including writing books, documenting processes, and developing concepts, strategy, and research for brands, artists, and institutions.

My first jobs out of college were in literary archives and rare books where you’d have a lifetime of someone’s creative output shoved into 100 boxes and your job is to find the story in it. That work was really formative for me. I like taking abstract, disparate material and distilling it into something clear and unexpected.

It’s less about what I’m doing and more about being in the headspace to receive?

My best ideas have come from eavesdropping, eBay, reading fiction, and perusing health food stores in small towns. I am most inspired when I feel no pressure to quantify my curiosity. And also when I have had enough sleep, am in a flow of (casually) invigorating dialogue, and/or have had one-half of a martini.

“What is it you don’t want to know about yourself?”

(I wasn’t asked this directly but it’s from Adam Phillips’ book, The Life You Want, referenced in a NY Times interview between Kristin Stewart and David Marchese.

A secret local spot in your neighborhood: There is a neighbor down the hill who puts out a folding table stacked with really good Meyer lemons and herbs and eggs from their garden with an honor box.

The soundtrack of the season: I have been listening to Barry Walker Jr., and the album “Entrance Music” by Okonski, and Corinna Rapp’s “Activity Dream” while I am working. Also my friend Saul just shared his amazing playlist with me of women’s Lilith Faire-adjacent alt anthems. Man, The Cranberries are so good.

Something that’s overrated: Routines.

Something that’s underrated: The peanut emoji.

Last book you read or gave as a gift: The Beauty of Light - a long-form interview with the artist Etel Adnan.

A frivolous obsession: I buy and hoard bulk orders of these seasonal jams and fruit butters made by June Taylor in Berkeley.

Coffee shop order: drip with whole milk