Tuesday, October 3rd, 2023, London Heathrow Airport.
Hey Friends! 👋
I am on the road. Light on possessions and plans. I start in Amsterdam and end in India. This travel "muse-letter" is my way of bringing you along.
If you subscribe (go to the bottom of this page), you'll receive occasional updates on my irreverent adventure and all my writing, programming, and musings on the road. Right in your inbox!
Why email and not social media? The medium is suited to my message. Letters spark joy for me — social media, not so much. No, "muse-letter" isn't a typo. My dear friend misheard my nasally mumbled "travel newsletter" in a voicenote. She replied:
I'm running with it 🙃 Here's why:
1. Letters are lower stakes and remind me that I am talking to someone. You. 2. Travel is my muse and often the object of it. 3. Calling my shenanigans "news" is far too self-important. The whimsicality of musing is self-indulgent. 4. We'll have much to discuss wherever or whenever our paths cross — again or for the first time.
So please subscribe, friend! Reply too. It will make me very happy.
With levity and boldness, Arman
"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived ... I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it too its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world..."
— Henry David Thoreau, Walden
“Sing, O muse, of the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans.”
