Hand-written messages from The World, delivered in the old-fashioned mail to unsuspecting souls. Humans buy a subscription for someone else of their choosing. (Or heck, for themselves. There are no rules. The World doesn’t really believe in rules and is thrilled to connect with anyone who wants to listen.) Recipients receive monthly letters of love, addressed directly to them, featuring simple, original art.

“But who, exactly, is The World?” we hear you ask.

Well… the world is communicating in a million zillion voices every single second. It’s there for anyone who pays attention. Which is kinda the point.

This is just how one person happens to be taking some notes. Because frankly, it was hard to get a squirrel on staff, the trees can be just too subtle sometimes, and humans obviously have trouble translating the messages from the whales.

Some things about The World:

Believes every creature knocking around down here is doing their best.

Tries to be a breadcrumb trail to a better place. Or at minimum, be a sludge-buoy.

Reminds us we don’t really know what’s going on here. Which is part of the gift.

Is a little magical, not toxically positive, a wanna-be poet, hopefully delightful, and just the right amount of granola.