Phantoms of Self
Human. Woman. Man. The flesh of being, but not being itself. For self, is the origin of the ego, keeper of the soul, ruminator of the spirit. Peer into the reflection and lean in towards the shadow. Masked beneath the surface and our colorless reflection: the mosaic of our ego, the phantoms of our being, the fragments we cannot shed. We are and will always be. Musings from the mind of our head brewer, Alia Midoun. Made with oats and wheat. Double dry-hopped with Mosaic, Mandarina, Idaho Gem, and Citra + Mosaic Cryo.