dear stranger friends,

today was 11 hours of sunshine in berlin, with birdsong all morning. I had too many goji berries for breakfast, called my mother and found her 70% happy, and watched three netflix episodes in one hour.

today, I'm sending:

• a 38 sec film poem I took yesterday
• finding my artist inspiration from trees
• a gentle wish from spring.

dear fellow traveler of a winter night,

I'm writing to you from a berlin where spring feels nearly here. I went on a two hour walk today and noticed how the buds are ready to bloom. the trees and animals all seem to have an effortless internal clock, while we humans are slow.

what is this clock within us? what does the body want with spring?

I want: simple, soft pleasures. a lightness of being. winter was very good darkness training.

dear serpent charmer of my heart,

this week i am embracing the tidal way of working -- which is to say, allowing myself to ebb and flow and have tsunami storm weather, if i feel like it. other things I am allowing myself include: long walks in the sun at 10am, tres leches cake, unapologetic consumption of snacks, little naps before sunset, and occasional episodes of The Crown -- like cooling salve lotion on my wildfire heart.

this week I am sharing with you:

• an animation about afghanistan I finished last week (19 hours of work for 1:45 minutes) i worked on it while drunk in love.

dear kindred voyager of this life,

last week was chinese new years, and my grandfather died. my two grandfathers both died in the last four months -- during winter in Berlin, during this pandemic lockdown.

I don't have the words to talk about it yet, but I'm sure words -- and pictures -- will come. right now, I try to embrace the felt sensation of each day in this endless grey berlin weather.

I have a lot of things to share with you this week. a handmade labor of love (cigarette kisses) -- some reflections on what I did in January, a visual poem about Berlin, and two photo diary entries.

dearest stranger-friends of my heart,

my word of the week is ritual, so I'm going to start writing to you -- monday nights -- a little more religiously than I did before, even if I feel like I have nothing to say (like today).

I'm only sending you 3 things this week.