Kinfolk, the entrepreneurs issue
Tonight the reading lamp is my only beacon of light. I feel the cover. Slowly. The paper is soft, the letters reach out to me. I open the latest Kinfolk – the entrepreneurs issue – and read it word by word. Page after page. Like a book, I follow the timeline of the story as they compiled it. I pause, muse. I ask myself why …
I am at page 21 when this issue puts everything of the past months in perspective. In the most beautiful words Brianna Kovan explains to me the meaning of the Japanese word yoyuu. I read it two times and realise I miss the air of yoyuu about me.
Kinfolk is about the essence. Serene pictures chaperon words well-chosen while the typography is set with great care within an elegant minimal grid. I turn the pages gently, feel the paper. I enjoy every article, my quiet time.
The stories make my thoughts wander and I wonder who all these lovely people behind Kinfolk are, if I am a toiler or an idler and why everything else in life – family and friends, sex and sleep, hobbies and holiday – is forced to bend around the almighty work schedule. Carl Honoré praises slowness and has an eye for alliteration. I smile at the story of the paper clip, which has never been written down so beautifully as Travis Elborough did. I think about the sense of spaces I often pass time in. How I experience our home, a work in progress – just like Helen Rice’s nostalgic house. I toast to tradition and put Sentrum to my travel list.
The night is dark and still when I close the magazine, but the truth hums loud and clear. I memorise the words deep breathing and heartbeat variation exercises and feel my shoulders.
Once in a while you stumble upon something that will change your life. Maybe not at the very moment, but give it time to simmer. I hold this issue close, I will feed my soul with it and find courage.