When I started this newsletter I didn’t intend for it to be weekly. I just wanted every piece I send to be meaningful and carefully crafted. But ideas kept coming and somehow I found energy for it. Last Monday was the first time I couldn’t finish my illustration.

I got stuck writing copy for my portfolio website. It’s so hard to wrap up 40 years of life and 20 years of work. I felt like I had to turn my journey into a perfect stairway with matching steps, each leading straight to the next one. But life doesn’t work that way: we skip steps, we go back, we take detours and change roads.

There where times when I questioned my nonlinear trajectory (and so did my family). Why learn computer science and not work in tech? Why give up civic activities when I dreamed of working for the EU? Why take a management detour from my design career?

Life happens so fast you don’t get to acknowledge every turn. Making sense of my “about” page was difficult, but it helped me take a closer look at each story. And all those different chapters made me the person I am today. They shaped the things I care about and my motivations.

We gain more texture when we stitch different patterns together instead of following a single thread. I am a better designer because I was also a manager and a programmer. I am a better storyteller because I was surrounded by people trying to make the world a better place. I am grateful for where I am now and I want to stay curious and open to change.

What about you, what different threads did you mix so far?

Here’s something to open at lunch break: this article from Philosophy Break about living a “Diachronic” vs an “Episodic” life. It made me completely reconsider the need to have a cohesive story for my entire life.

Keep knitting your stories, even the mismatched ones,
Irina

Today I plan on making a Mimosa cake for my nephew’s birthday and I have no idea how that will go.

I have fond childhood memories of aunts cooking for me (and I have many aunts). But even though I love cooking, I rarely do it for my nephews. At first I thought this was on account of lack of time, and that is partly the reason. Then I offered to prepare food for my entire family this weekend, for Easter, and I quickly remembered why I avoid it.

Cooking got so incredibly complicated. Everything has to be 100% healthy, but appealing enough to everyone aged 13 to 83. Also no preservatives, no processed foods, not too greasy, not too salty, not too bland, not too many sweets, not too much food, yet something for everyone, plus all the traditional dishes. These are just the general guidelines, but I must add in the mix special diets and personal preferences for 12 very different people.

Everyone is grateful for the effort so they tell you anything you will cook will be fine. But I got so anxious I even tried vetting the cake in advance. I sent photos from all angles and the full ingredients list. I guess I’m sort of panicking that it was all a terrible idea and my nephew will not even eat it.

I did it again, I talked about food because it’s easier. But, the truth is, not only food got complicated, people did too. I don’t think my nephews are so much different than me when I was their age. It’s just I kept much more bottled inside. If I didn’t like the cake I would have just eaten it and said it’s lovely, because that was what you had to do. I probably disliked many things and kept that to myself. Some things hurt me and I hid that too. And these were not necessarily healthy, just easier for the people around me and, well, the hosts 😂

I feel like humanity is still finding its balance between conformity and rebellion and it’s a difficult time to navigate. Gatherings of all kinds are complicated, especially when you mix people that grew up in such different times. But family gatherings are especialy delicate because we all come with so much baggage. You can be 13 or 83, you will always want your family to accept and love you as you are. And at holidays you find out exactly what everyone thinks about you and your life because large groups, jokes and wine always make for an effervescent combination.

But coming back to my nephew’s cake, I think in the end it’s ok I am making it. Maybe he will totally hate it, but at least he will know I cared enough to take that risk. And I will learn something new about him and we will have a more honest relationship because he felt comfortable to tell me he didn’t like my cake.

Here are a bunch of things you can open anytime you like (I am going off-script today):

• A comic that made me laugh: Easter gathering doodles by illustrator Zuza Gadomska

• A book I keep coming back to: The Art of Gathering by Priya Parker

• A series I devoured: Outrageous, about the lives of the six Mitford sisters. I can’t believe I never heard of them before, their life stories are incredible and not necessarily in a good way.

I’ll still write to you even if you don’t like the cake,
Irina

I name all my plants… after a one-month trial period. So I have many names in my virtual cemetery. After each plant-death I feel sad and guilty even though I know I did my best. One day I saw a video with someone talking about all the plants she killed that year and I realised I am not alone in my struggles.

So I decided to make a comic about my experience with killing cacti, with Oliver the Spiral Cactus as the main character. I did this mostly for myself, as a way of letting go of guilt and honouring the lives of the plants I killed with too much love. And this comic probably changed my life.

Three years ago I posted it on Reddit. And I have found the most incredible community: so compassionate, so willing to share their own stories. They cried, they laughed, they told me about their own losses. We mourned together Harry the Aloe Vera, Harold the Venus Flytrap, Aldalberto the Snake Plant and Fernando the Fern. Oliver’s story got so popular that it even made it to the shortlist to be featured for Reddit’s end-of-year video.

But what impressed me even more was the way art can heal wounds and help you process feelings. People shared Oliver’s story with friends and family that were mourning after plant-losses. They started reading my website and other things I have written and someone told me that my “Last page” poem reminded them about a difficult time in their life. “It’s serendipitous that a cactus comic led me to art perfectly describing my emotions” she wrote to me. And her words continue to fuel my work every day.

Here's something to open at lunch break: a very interesting article about cactus resilience from National Geographic. It also contains a beautiful video with a Saguaro cactus flowering at night.

Have a week with no casualties,
Irina

P.S. I’d love to hear your stories about the plants that you loved and are no longer with us. Any names you want to add to the list?

I’m really bad at taking breaks. I’m afraid that it will be too hard to get back on track. When I stop, doubts creep in, I overanalyse everything, and I end up completely stuck.

For the past few weeks, I’ve been waking up every day feeling very tired. But I put off taking a break until I had more time. There’s a long list of things I want to do, and despite having read Oliver Burkeman’s book “Meditations for Mortals” twice, I still want to do them all.

On Saturday, I was so sleepy that I simply couldn’t get out of bed even though I’d already slept for eight hours. Also my back decided to act up. So I stopped fighting it. I stayed in bed with my hot pillow and Happy (my cuddly penguin), watched the latest season of “Call the Midwife” and cried my eyes out (no spoilers 🤫).

Will I still be just as motivated after a weekend off? Will all my projects still make sense when I have to start working on them again? I guess we’ll find out today 😁

What about you, how are your energy levels? Any tips and tricks for fast charging?

Here’s something to open at lunch break: a beautifully illustrated and fun Illuminating letter by about taking a dance break. “Let’s dance our cares away together” she says, and I think it’s just what we need this Monday, don’t you agree?

May you find your song,
Irina

Monday Postcard was actually meant to be a newsletter about travel and urban spaces for my Befriending Cities project. But somehow it ended up being exactly what I needed it to be right now: a quiet space to connect with people, away from the social media rush. I wanted a place where I can talk honestly about work and life, through my illustrations. I never liked flooding social media with work in progress or trivial things just to stay in touch. Making animations and storytelling projects takes time, months, and I want to keep telling stories between the big reveals.

I grew up in the 90s, so I loved sending long letters to my childhood friends. Also my first job as a creative, 20 years ago, was illustrating and animating e-cards. So it felt natural to me to send an illustrated newsletter. I started sending them last Christmas to a few friends. They didn’t even know they where the only ones receiving it, it was my secret. I loved designing and illustrating something just for them. It felt so much like I was a kid again, writing letters.

Then I opened subscriptions and moved the newsletter publicly on Substack. And suddenly the pressure started to creep in. “You need to add more subscribe buttons” said the platform, “Maybe also a share button?” and “By the way, have you looked at your stats today?”. Everything you do online is now a statistic: open rate, share rates, likes, comments. I began feeling guilty for spending so much time on something that doesn’t and will not bring any income. This newsletter is surely the most unprofitable thing I’ve done in years, but I love doing it.

With all these numbers and statistics it’s so easy to get side-tracked. You begin thinking about growth and how to use your current audience as a bridge to get to others. But I don’t want this to be about people that might be here tomorrow. Yes, I love it when someone new joins the newsletter and when people enjoy a story enough to share it with someone else. But what I want is something that connects me, for a few minutes on Monday morning, to you, the ones already here. I think that’s magical and I am grateful you decided to join this adventure. I hope I’ve managed to keep my promise and make your Mondays just a little bit easier for the past three months.

You are not the bridge to success, you are the destination. I arrive there each time something I write or draw makes another person feel something or helps someone see things from a new perspective.

Here’s something to open at lunch break: a beautiful video called The Flower Effect featuring my very talented childhood pen pal and lifelong friend Daniela❤️. It was filmed as a flower commercial, but it’s such a nice and heart-warming story, that I keep coming back to it.

Thank you for every Monday morning!
Irina

I’m so excited to share with you Echo, the new animation I just finished. You’ll find it at the end of the newsletter, but first let me give you a bit of context, as always.

This weekend, I’m going to be part of the audience at conference. Ever since I bought my ticket, I kept thinking about this year’s theme: “Hope”. I think it was a perfect choice, because lately it is rather difficult to see the light through clouds of war and crises.

All that happened in the past years chipped away at my hope in the betterment of humanity as a whole. It saddens me to see how we keep failing to unite in the face of adversity, be it a dictator or a pandemic. And how easy it’s to make people hate each other.

So to keep myself away from despair I try to focus on the micro-world around me and just keep doing what I can. I vote, I go to protests when I need to, I support as much as I can NGOs and media organisations that try to help, I use public transport instead of a car, I try to be mindful of my neighbours and people around me. Of course all these are insignificant and I always feel guilty for not doing more.

One day some friends told me they were inspired by what I do, something I never thought would matter to anyone else but me. Then I started to pay attention to the way small things I do influence others (in good ways and bad) and vice-versa. And I noticed how a stranger’s kindness can completely change my day. Or how my journey is shaped by people just passing through my life. This reminded me that we change the world even when we feel small and insignificant. So that is the hope I choose to hold onto: the power of our individual echoes.

Last year was the first time I attended The Power of Storytelling and I loved it. The speakers were brilliant and everyone I met was so inspiring. But what stays with me even now are the glass bottles. The hosts chose them to be eco-friendly, but they kept clattering during the speeches. Instead of being an awkward moment they became our hymn. We welcomed imperfection and turned it into a magical moment of connection. Together, we chose our echo.

Here’s something to open at lunch break: this video about the team behind The Power of Storytelling and why this is such a special event. Will I see you there?

Go make some good waves 😉
Irina

P.S. You can find my storytelling projects and my animations, like the one about Aphantasia or The Neighborhero on my website.

I grew up in a freshly post-communist society, supposedly egalitarian, yet deeply patriarchal and misogynistic. Many people felt women were not ready to lead or have important jobs. I’ve encountered men who openly admitted they didn’t take me seriously at first, just because I was a woman.

It took me a minute (about 40 years to be precise) to realise that this made me afraid to show (or even admit to myself) limitations or weaknesses. Especially if they could be traced back to me being a woman. I avoided complaining about “women problems”, as that could fuel misogynistic views. And I am sure I’m not the only one.

The mess of being in your 40s and going through all the hormonal changes is probably the best kept secret of my mother’s generation. They hid it in the footnotes of the emancipation contract we all signed. Or maybe they wrote it all off as their own fault and believed their daughters would be superwomen, immune to menopause.

Since I am still finding the words for all of this, I will start by telling you about the cake I made. This is a Mimosa cake, traditionally served in Italy on International Women’s Day. This cake doesn’t hide its imperfections, it’s nothing special in regards to ingredients (sponge cake and “Diplomat” cream), yet it is one of the best I have ever tasted. I even went all rogue and I didn’t cut away the crust, like the recipe required, I left it all in plain sight.

So if I am to embrace imperfections, just like my Mimosa cake, I will have to admit that my 40s are hard. I’m just at the very beginning and I can already feel the impact on my body. On top of life’s challenges, I have to deal with mood changes, pains that weren’t there a minute ago, digestive issues, random symptoms and an endless list of expensive annual check-ups.

I used to fear that complaining about all this will be seen as a weakness. But silence doesn’t help anyone. So I’ll choose instead to make peace with the mess. It is nothing to hide under some duct tape, it’s not men vs. women and it doesn’t make me defective. It’s just about me and what my body needs right now.

I am happy there is more discussion on this topic, but I would love for it to be free of commercial interests. Many articles I’ve come across feel like they’re just using anxiety to drive sales. Pills are very useful, but they are not the only thing we are in need of. We urgently need space for conversation, more time for self-care and leisure, permission to be a mess from time to time without losing our place at the table. We need it for all of us, women and men alike, as life is overwhelming no matter the age or sex.

Here’s something to open at lunch break: this amazing poem called “B (If I should have a daughter)”, wrote and performed by Sarah Kay. I discovered her poems a few years ago and they inspired me to start writing again. I love her poetry! When I grow up, I want to be just like her 😁

Finally, as it’s a special occasion, I’ll add something for dinner too: this interview from The Europeans Podcast with author and activist Emma Holten: “Are women really a net deficit to the economy?”. I felt they raised very interesting questions about what we value as a society and what could be done better.

Be a mess if you feel like it,
Irina

The last few months have been especially cloudy, both outside and inside. For all the good advice I read and hear every day, I still let things get to me. I still let end-of-the-world news make me think there is no future, I still allow anxiety-purposed AI news make me feel like it’s the end of my dreams. I still let low engagement on social media tell me my work is useless.

A few weeks ago I was taking my daily walk thinking about quitting all my creative work. And I started conceiving a newsletter about it. I even imagined the illustration I would make. I immediately felt better, better than I had in days. The sun was there with me the whole time, I was just looking for it in the wrong places.

Prioritising my daily routines, separating my personal projects from my client work, surrounding myself with people who inspire me to be a better person - these were probably the best decisions I have made in my adult life so far. And I realise now they are my go-to sunshine toolkit.

The world will always be scary, there will always be a crisis or a disappointment. Nobody will ever care about your projects as much as you do. But the joy you get from creating something, be it as small as a cake or as big as a rocket, that is something no storm can wash away. Building creative things is what makes the sun come up in the morning for me and I hope to remember that next time.

What about you, what is the weather report from your side of the universe?

Here's something to open at lunch break: a song I love, Tulips by Denuo (Tom Mason). I think it’s perfect for this beginning of spring and the mood of my letter.

Build the brightest sun you can for yourself!
Irina

Remember the saying “careful what you wish for”? I always wanted to be many things, work in multiple roles and domains, all at the same time. I could never decide between a programmer, a designer, a journalist or a civic activist. Sometimes I overstayed in jobs or projects just because they didn’t make me choose.

Now, as a freelancer, I have enough “hats” to fill an entire IKEA wardrobe. Is it just me or do you also feel roles keep piling up on our heads? Besides my actual job (designing, illustrating and animating), I handle management, client service, marketing, sales, accounting and serve my own coffee, all before 10 a.m. If you catch me talking to myself, don’t worry, it’s just our daily meeting.

It’s not only multiple personalities we are juggling with. By my calculations I’m using around 30 apps every day, just for work. Do the math and I’m sure you’ll end up with two digits if you have a desk job.

And each of these roles gets more complicated by the day. For example, in order to stay visible you don’t just have to keep your website updated and search-engine-friendly. You have to post on ten different platforms, each with different thumbnail sizes and different text and links and tags restrictions. Sometimes it takes longer to post about a project I made than it actually took me to make it in the first place.

Well, at least I can’t say I ever get bored at the office!

Here's something to open at lunch break: this Hybrid Calisthenics app I’ve been using lately (it’s free and has a very clear progression path). I’m building some muscle to hold all those hats 😉

See you after I shake off this annoying cold I’m dealing with right now,
Irina

P.S. I don’t mind sharing the inner office with my alter personas, but do they really have to go on medical leave all at the same time?!?

I used to assume that everyone could picture anything they wanted in their minds. But my husband Andrei can’t do that and he always thought that “seeing” in your imagination was just a figure of speech. We only recently discovered that our minds produce images in different ways. Some people can picture images in varying degrees of details and others can’t see any in their minds.

We didn’t even have a name for this until 2015: aphantasia (being unable to generate voluntary mental images) and its opposite, hyperphantasia (having extremely vivid mental imagery). I made a short animation for Aphantasia Awareness Day about this.

I seem to be on the hyperphantasia side. I can edit animations in my head while walking in the park. But the inner movie in my mind can become overwhelming and I get side-tracked by visual triggers.

Andrei’s aphantasia helps him focus, he can easily work with abstract notions and he has a fantastic memory for information. But he can’t “relive” memories visually like I do. To him, memory is a filing system. When I say “imagine a beach” I see my dream seaside vacation. He opens the “beach” folder and pulls up concepts instead of images. We joke that my mind is like Google Photos and his is like Wikipedia.

I know this mail got a bit technical, but my point was actually about love. Love needs never-ending curiosity. I used to think I knew how Andrei experienced the world, but this taught me to never make assumptions, not even the trivial ones, not even after you’ve been with someone half your life. Always ask, always stay curious.

So, I would love to know, what do YOU see when you imagine yourself on a beach?

Here’s something to open at lunch break: a funny animation by Jamie Fern about being an artist with aphantasia.

Have a sunny week (real or imaginary)!
Irina

P.S. If you want to get into details about aphantasia and hyperphantasia, this article from The New Yorker is the best we've read so far on the subject.

Looking at photos from my last trip I kept thinking how much I learned from each city I visited so far. I love to go to the supermarket and see what people buy and eat. Or look at how they spend their time and how they interact as a community. It helped me understand the importance of investing in public transportation, green spaces, and building a strong community. I admire places where people feel safe to take a break, smile and be kind to each other. We need more spaces like that.

From each trip we bring back with us new ideas. Some are culinary habits like buying bread from local bakeries. Or updating our menu: we added vegetarian soups, polenta and risottos at lunch, spreads/hummus with fresh carrots or cauliflower at dinner. Also eating cheese with grapes is now a regular thing in our home (I eat grapes with pizza too 😄).

Others are habits we added to our routine. I loved seeing people picnicking and reading books in the park. So spending time in green spaces became a priority both in our travels and at home. We even implemented our own take on “siesta” - a one hour walk after lunch, in the park or around the neighbourhood.

Renting apartments we get to see how people live everyday, how they arrange their homes and even how they use lights to shape the mood. Now we always dine with a dimmer, warm light that helps us relax. It’s just one of those 3 euro lamps from Ikea, but it made such a big difference on how we end our day.

These are changes easy to describe, but immersing ourselves in other cultures made deeper transformations in the way we see the world and who we are. So I’d love to know more about your experience. What inspired you from your trips?

Here’s something to open at lunch break: my favourite songs from two bands I discovered on holiday, one from Deolinda and one from Sephardica.

Safe travels,
Irina

I had another topic in mind until the calendar reminded me that today is La Chandeleur. This holiday was established by Christians as the end of the Christmas season. But it dates back to ancient times, when farmers were preparing for the end of winter. In France, it’s now celebrated as Pancake Day. I understand that the association comes from their shape and color (they resemble the sun), but any excuse to eat pancakes is welcome, don’t you think?

I only learned about this tradition a few years ago. But I’ve been making pancakes since elementary school, for family and friends and anyone I loved. It always felt easier for me to express feelings through food and cooking than with words. My pancake pan has a few stories to tell about that :)

For this newsletter I chose these traditional Crêpes Suzette I made a few years ago. I loved this recipe, they ended up so fine and delicate. But today I’m going for something rather simple, I’m making a thin crepe in the oven and I plan to eat it just with homemade whipped cream and a few sunflower seeds. I love experimenting with pancakes so, if you have any favorite recipes (sweet or savory), tell me about them.

Here’s something to open at lunch break: an exquisite recipe my grandmother used to make for us, black locust flowers pancakes. Here is a video and a recipe (in romanian).

Bon Appétit,
Irina

Luna has been part of our family for five years and she’s a constant source of amusement. While we’re around, she acts helpless (can’t even cross the threshold). As soon as we’re gone, she’s fearless! She tackles the elliptical bike and chews on the water sensors. If I forget to hide the shoelaces, I find her dragging the shoe around the house. We scold her, she goes to her corner ashamed, and the next time she does exactly the same thing.

I guess having a robot vacuum cleaner feels a little bit like having a kid. Just one that never learns to tie the shoelaces.

Luna is cute, and we love her despite her silly adventures. The house would seem empty without her, and she does make our lives easier. But if robots are taking our jobs, could they also get better at taking out the trash?

Here’s something to open at lunch break: A short animation hand-drawn by Aaron Blaise called “Snow bear”. It’s beautiful and heart-warming, exactly what we need these days.

See you in February (finally!!!),
Irina

I hope one day I’ll learn to write two feelings in one sentence, as Fredrik Backman does. His books always make me feel like I’m being hugged by my best friend, and, at the same time, like the world is ending. He writes so simply about feelings so complicated.

Books and art are a refuge for me, especially these days. I’m pretty sure none of us waited for Blue Monday to get depressed this year. But stories remind me that there are so many incredibly brave people out there who do their best every day to be good humans. That makes me want to keep working on better versions of myself, no matter what happens in the world.

I am not sure I’m doing a great job at cheering you up on this particular Monday but I’ll leave you with a text that made me feel better from the book I’m reading - My friends by Fredrik Backman:

“To be silly and frivolous, to laugh at stupid little jokes and tell stupid little stories [..] That’s all of life. All we can hope for. You mustn’t think about the fact that it might end, because then you live like a coward, you never love too much or sing too loudly. You have to take it for granted, the whole thing: sunrises and slow Sunday mornings and water balloons and another person’s breath against your neck. That’s the only courageous thing a person can do.”

Here’s something to open at lunch break: A funny series about winter by illustrator Chaz Hutton. It reminded me you can say so much with so little, I loved his idea.

See you after I finish the book,
Irina

January is an unpopular month but as a freelancer it’s my least favourite one. I’ve been doing this for 15 years (freelancing that is, I’ve been Januarying for 41) and the beginning of the year always makes me anxious.

I tend to spend January in a mix of excitement for having free time after an exhausting December and panic over the empty inbox. Working on personal projects (like this one) helps a lot as I get less time to overthink things.

Freelancing isn’t an easy or predictable path. To get through the dry spells and the rush periods you have to stay flexible, calm and think ahead. Still working on the calm part, but I feel it’s the right path for me. Looking back, at the 15 years milestone, it’s a joy to see how much I’ve grown and how much I’ve learned along the way!

I love many things about being a freelancer: the home office, the schedule flexibility, the diversity of projects (see P.S.). And as a bonus I get to work alongside Andrei, my partner in all for the past 21 years. So, for me, it’s worth all the Januaries ❤️

What about you, how are you Januarying?

Here’s something to open at lunch break: A fun and touching journal comic by Tuan Nini as a good reminder of the simple joy of learning and doing.

See you after the panic attack,
Irina

P.S. Here are some helpful definitions for you:

• Home office: working from your kitchen.

• Flexible schedule: working by choice during evenings, weekends and holidays.

• Project diversity: saying “yes” to everything because you need the money.

I have a complicated relationship with food. I love to cook and try out new recipes (I have a drawer just for spices) but I used to lean on food for the wrong reasons - sometimes as a creative outlet, many other times for comfort or just dimming the overwhelming anxiety. Then I went in the completely opposite direction, as I suddenly couldn’t eat anymore without discomfort.

So, I spent the past two years reshaping my relationship with food. It was a scary but interesting journey. I learned I can be happy without sugar or spices, and I can still enjoy food even if it’s simpler. I began eating more slowly and really appreciating good ingredients. Now I am back to cooking everything at home (even more than before) and this time I do it without guilt, so it’s so much more fulfilling.

I will leave you with this pistachio flan I’ve made for the first time on New Year’s Eve. Back in 2012 we started a tradition: on the 31st of December we choose a destination. It’s usually a country, a region or a period, but we did have a few fantasy themes like Game of Thrones and Harry Potter. Then we research and cook new recipes, listen to music, watch movies (sometimes even dress up) inspired by that destination.

This year we went all French for the menu and music, and we watched Ratatouille for the 3rd time. To make it authentic we also spent an hour just peeling chestnuts. But what can I say, the puree was well worth it :)

Do you have any traditions that spark joy in your home? Drop me a line, I would love to hear them.

Here’s something to open at lunch break: a heartwarming French Christmas ad about the need to belong, being different and of course the magic of food ❤️

Take it slow and enjoy every bite!
Irina

My 10-year plan is due this year. It was an exercise I did back in 2015 - describing in detail a normal day from my perfect life in 2025. I wished for little things: a nice apartment in central Paris, supporting myself just from my creative projects and having plenty of time and money to visit new cities, walk and take photos, enjoy art, see shows, read books, cook interesting food and jazz dance. Nothing much, really...

I’m not living the dream just yet, but you know what? There are so many things that did come true, the inner peace I was looking for, eating healthy, prioritizing my projects alongside client work (like sending these postcards ♥️), walking around the neighborhood for an hour at lunch break, dancing for 5 minutes every day. It’s not Paris, but they bring me so much joy.

What about you, do you have any special plans for 2035?

Here’s something to open at lunch break: the song I’m dancing to today, Dès Que Le Vent Soufflera, a tribute cover of a classic song by the french artist Renaud.

À bientôt,
Irina

Welcome to my first postcard! Perhaps some introductions are in order. My name is Irina, and I’m a visual storyteller from Bucharest, Romania. Maybe you’ve seen some of my projects, like my comic about killing plants or my new Neighborhero animation.

Mondays can be tough, so I thought we can make it easier if we faced it together. I hope my illustrated Monday Postcards newsletter will bring you a nice start for your week. Thank you for being here!

Most of my emails feature illustrations inspired by everyday life. I’ll share the stories behind the drawing along with an “open at lunch break” recommendation to give you something to look forward to during the day.

I want to make Monday Postcard a safe space to explore ideas and feelings, away from the social media noise. Sometimes we’ll laugh, other times we’ll reflect, and there might even be a tear or two. Whatever the subject, I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts. I want this to feel like a conversation rather than a monologue.

This end of the year came with a terrible shortage of time. I am hosting for Christmas and I had big cooking plans but my menu is simplifying by the day and at this rate we might end up with frozen pizza. So I do hope Christmas is all about family and all that, as I’m not betting on the food this time... What about you, what are you cooking fancy this Christmas?

Here’s something to open at lunch break: a beautiful interpretation of White Christmas from the musical Holiday Inn (I really loved the musical as well).

Ready or not, I hope you’ll enjoy your Christmas all the same!
Irina