Last year, I bought some new headphones. Clever, sleek little white things that announced themselves with a reassuring chirrup. They transported me into a new wireless realm of sound after years of living without a means of listening to music—or anything, really—while on the move. In London, where I live, I pass hundreds of strangers every day and nearly all of them are plugged into something. Now I am among them. It has never been easier to listen, and it has never been more difficult. We can have a friend on the phone while interacting with a salesclerk (although the etiquette on this remains dubious), and we have access to thousands of songs with a flick of the finger. We can find great speeches and inspiring performances from decades ago on YouTube, and hear the minutiae of our loved ones’ lives in a voice note pinged across the ether. But This story is from Kinfolk Issue Forty-Nine Buy Now Related Stories Arts & Culture Issue 27 Jamieson Webster A conversation with a New York psychoanalyst. Arts & Culture Issue 49 Karin Mamma Andersson Inside the moody, mysterious world of Sweden’s preeminent painter. Arts & Culture Issue 49 Jenny Odell The acclaimed author in search of lost time. Arts & Culture Issue 49 Amalie Smith The Danish arts writer finding clarity between the lines. Arts & Culture Issue 49 Ryan Heffington Meet the man bringing choreography, community and queer joy to the desert. Arts & Culture Issue 49 Nell Wulfhart Advice from a decision coach.
Arts & Culture Issue 49 Karin Mamma Andersson Inside the moody, mysterious world of Sweden’s preeminent painter.
Arts & Culture Issue 49 Ryan Heffington Meet the man bringing choreography, community and queer joy to the desert.
