Dear Batfort,

I promised myself I’d do some visioning for your future this week, and I haven’t. (I’ve been fasting and I did not anticipate how much mental space that would take up.)

But in lieu of a giant brainstorming session with post-its or pages and pages of free-form lists and journaling, I decided to write you a letter. Like you are a real thing, which you kind of are.

Batfort, you are almost 2 years old.

What started as a project to prove to myself that I could set a goal and stick with it (1 post per day for 365 days, no exceptions) has grown into something more. What that “more” is, I’m not sure of.

But I love it. I love the growth that you’ve been having. I love that I’ve started to get emails and comments from lovely people who have been struck by your writing.

Even though you are still rough and growing and sometimes foolish, you seem to have a purpose. And I want to honor that purpose.

There are so many things I want to do under the Batfort umbrella. Some of them align more clearly with that purpose than others, but all things can work together for good.

I keep thinking about a podcast—a living, breathing way to talk about the de-gnostification journey, and to critically examine the roots of the stories that make up our lives.

The past year has presented me with opportunities to practice printmaking, which I love, and this next year I have a goal of learning bookbinding. “Batfort Studios” might become a real thing, to print weird-but-lovely things to remind you to keep seeking Truth.

And I see so many coincidences (a sign that I’m on the right track) around zines and publications. At my heart of hearts, I want to publish books—a hard profession, but a noble one. Especially when the aim of publishing books is to draw people closer to the truth.

Aesthetically, I can’t shake the “dark 80s-inflected neo-Victorian” vibe that I’ve always seen around your name. I’d like to lean into that, provide an aesthetic to counter the flat, bold, pink, marbled aesthetics that are everywhere around us. Monstera is pretty, but we need an alternative.

I’ve been distracted from you this month, as I got pulled in the direction of kick-starting my writings about healing and health. I’m sorry. I’ve been so overwhelmed with joy and the sheer fact of my healing that it’s hard to to share it with everyone. And I know that this may not be the place to go deep into that.

I’d like to keep you somewhat away from the bold, blunt edges that are required for presenting a product or an argument to the masses.

Batfort, you are a place for exploration. For nuance. For the cobwebby bits.

You are my firstborn project, in many ways. I cannot neglect you, and I feel that I have a duty, of sorts, to pass the torch that you bear to others who wish to take up the Light.

It is a rough plan, for now, but I hope it is sufficient.

Your servant,
Anne