Until the End of the World, Wim Wenders, 1991

It is February of the year 2020. The time has come for — well, for something. For what?

A hint can be found in what Rachel Tashijan told me in our conversation:

I find it valuable that you can just sit down your friends, and it’s not even about being pretentious – because being pretentious is the worst thing in the world – but just trying to reach for the highest and most rewarding level of engagement. Whether it will be analysing a bizarre thing that your friend said or did, or “oh, did you see that thing at the Met – it’s so good”, or “did you see the Da Vinci thing at the Louvre – it was way too overwhelming” – those types of conversations. Let yourself go. Just talk about stuff.

And so, it might be time to talk about stuff.

To get serious, I am thinking about a 4-day work week - of writing, of talking about stuff, that is. A 4-day work week is the new universal basic income - or at least, it should be - plus, it’s a pretty solid rhythm. Every week will loosely revolve around a theme, and this upcoming week will be dedicated to Wim Wenders’ epos Until the End of the World. In a lost-and-found February day which is the 366th day of the year, the time had come for partings, and for beginnings.