frohes Neues Jahr and all that jazz. Just a quickie to seal the deal on my commitment I wrote in the ‘ol Moleskin (not to be confused with that jacked up spot on your back). You may have noticed change is already coming round. And it’s high time.
This is the year I, you, we all, take a leap. Of faith. Of self-determination. Of sanity. Anything is possible when people stop being polite and start getting real. Just look at Gwen Dean.
Exciting times in the real world, but that’s not what we’re here for on WIWTS. We are, however, launching a new series, Unclaimed Letters. The idea was sparked when I dropped 3 postcards in a yellow Postfach at the Hannover airport. None of them ever reached the recipients (at least not at time of writing some 12+ weeks later). I thought about all those millions of letters that must be floating in the ether. A plan hatched. What if I could steal borrow that time machine from Ronson and Mars and snap up some of the messages to share with the world? It turns out those guys have some people called managers and agents and publicists who still live in the dark ages with female “assistants” who were all really unpleasant about my “request,” which they referred to more or less as a baseless accusation (Fuckabee is totally right on about professional ladies swearing these days, so immoral of them). So I’m going to make up my own letters – ones that should have been written.
Sounds super fun, right? While you’re waiting for the first installment, I’ll leave you with a couple tracks from my Winterlauf running playlist. 1. Old(er) school and 2. Brit school
Remember loves, stay focused on the long run, even when there’s frozen spit on your face.
