New Moon | June 15, 2026

A Missive from Green Sunflower HQ

New Moon | June 15, 2026

Tonight is the darkest night of the month.

Not metaphorically, but literally.

The New Moon means no moon. You can't see it because it's positioned between the Sun and the Earth, lost in the glare. Unless there's a solar eclipse-which there isn't tonight-the New Moon is simply absent.

The night is very dark.

I'm sitting in it.

Moons get nuanced. When you see what looks like a half-moon in the sky, astronomers call those Quarter Moons-the First Quarter and Third Quarter. Those names indicate position in the moon's orbit around Earth, not the shape of light you're seeing. Each shows a different half of the moon.

To me, moons represent months.

At my day job, I work as a project manager for advertising agencies specializing in pharma. I help create and maintain timelines. Business days. Reviews. Deliverables.

Projects take months.

Some take more than a year.

When I was recording my album with Pete and Ginger at Bantam Studios in Brooklyn, I started charting production goals in moons rather than months.

We'll track guitars and vocals by this moon.

Drums and bass by the next.

Certain moons to look forward to.

Sometimes we made our deadlines.

Sometimes we didn't.

That's the point.

About two weeks ago, at the Blue Moon, I tried to start a cannabis cleanse.

I did pretty well but I wasn't fully successful.

I think the Knicks had a lot to do with it.

I've also been trying to tune into the universe a bit more. To listen to it. To go with its flow.

The flow, in that case, involved some whole flower from Rolling Greens and some Sticky Rice MVP pre-rolls.

There were also some significant personal milestones during those two weeks. Meeting a new love's parents. Introducing her to my children.

A lot of moving parts.

I'm not claiming to have anything figured out.

Here's where things stand:

Three songs are out. Two more are coming soon.

I played 45 holes of golf today and got a massage from Jeff at WiWi in Oneonta.

I smoked all the weed.

I've made a commitment to a 15-day cannabis cleanse, from this New Moon to the Strawberry Moon on June 29.

I want to say something important here, and I mean it:

Just because I'm doing this doesn't mean I recommend you do it.

The most important thing is to listen to yourself.

Cannabis is a powerful plant. I don't think it's for everyone, and I don't think anyone should feel pressured toward it. The decision to consume cannabis-or not consume cannabis-is deeply personal.

What I've learned over the years is that cannabis doesn't change the world around me.

It changes my relationship to the world around me.

Sometimes that's exactly what I need. Sometimes it isn't.

That's why I think it's important to be thoughtful about what we recommend and how we recommend it.

I am among the most enthusiastic supporters of this plant that you'll find.

Which is exactly why I feel a responsibility to balance that enthusiasm with honesty.

The plant's gift can become too strong for anyone, including me.

This reset is my way of shaking hands with my favorite plant and stepping back for a couple of weeks.

I'm moving to Delancey. To a special home on a mountain-or perhaps a very large hill-where I hope to find some peace, some space to work, and a place to have fun with the children in the dirt.

I love Delhi.

I love the Catskills.

I'm still going to drink coffee.

Tonight the moon is dark.

Green Sunflower is just getting started.