orientation
which way the wind is blowing this week.
postcards from a place
that doesn’t exist yet,
but absolutely should.
Miris began as a side project — a notebook of imagined timetables for trains that ran between moons. We kept drawing the schedules. The schedules kept getting longer. Eventually, we built a place to keep them.
What you are reading is, in essence, that notebook. Slightly tidier. Still hand-drawn.
We picture transit the way the 1960s pictured the bullet train: warm, optimistic, a little ceremonial. Cream-colored enamel. Soft windows. Enough room in the cabin to write a letter.
Nothing here is for sale. Think of it as a window seat, briefly offered.
Hover any waypoint. The lanterns will respond.
which way the wind is blowing this week.
star charts revised quarterly. revisions footnoted.
recommended cups for each rotation of the station.
essays, marginalia, and a slowly growing list of footnotes.
seasonal observations — what lights up after dark.
imagined departures, sorted by mood and weather.
a quiet thank-you for reading this far.
if you would like a postcard, write to us.
© miris — an imagined catalogue, kept on cream paper.