Hello friends.
I wanted to come back to last week’s post for a moment.
A way to follow up with everyone.
I’ve read the polls, and spent some time thinking about this space and the people who keep finding their way here. About what it means to write something and know it will be read quietly and thoughtfully.
Maybe on a late night when sleep isn’t coming or when your world seems to be all over the place and you can’t seems to settle.
I found myself wanting a word for that. For those people. Not just a label, but a way to acknowledge the shared space between the writing and the reading.
After last weeks post, I spent a few days going back and forth. There were a few names that almost felt complete–some leaned a little too hard into writing, others too cute, too distant, or too split.
My heart kept coming back to the idea of belonging. A softness. With words, partly, true– but also of community.
Eventually, The right one settled.
Clawlings.
It feels warm and familiar. Slightly playful, slightly protective. A name for the people who gather here quietly, who read between the lines, and stay longer than they planned.
If you’re reading this, that’s you.
Along with that, I wanted to clear up something simple and practical. Going forward, I’ll aim to post once a week.
Nothing rigid or overly structured– just a gentle rhythm. Something steady, hopefully relatable.
The polls were pretty even in days an times so… A compromise! I’ll be alternating between Mondays and Wednesdays.
Without all the pressure both sides of he screen carry.
And now that things feel a little more grounded, I can look ahead.
February is almost here, and with it comes that familiar, complicated word: love. Not the glossy, postcard version of it—but the quieter, messier, more honest kind. Love we learn from. Love we misunderstand. Love that lingers long after we think it should.
I’ve been feeling pulled toward exploring that in a short series—something that might run up to Valentine’s Day, or maybe just past it. I don’t have every piece planned yet, and that feels okay. For now, I just wanted to let you know it’s coming.
Thank you for being here—for reading, for lingering, for helping shape this space simply by showing up. I’m really glad you’re here, Clawlings.
More soon,
Quill
