The language of squares: what public space tells us
A city's main square is the story that city tells about itself. We listened to what the stone, the shade and the places to sit have to say.
In the middle of endless feeds, staying with a piece of writing from first line to last has become a rare habit. In this feature we ask why our relationship with long-form still matters, and how to make room for it in an ordinary day.
From librarians and writers to digital designers and teachers, we gathered a range of voices on the small but lasting ways to rebuild the reading experience.
A city's main square is the story that city tells about itself. We listened to what the stone, the shade and the places to sit have to say.
Can we relearn as adults the curiosity that came so easily in childhood? Notes on turning questions into a daily practice.
How we spend the first half hour of the day often decides the rest of it. Suggestions for a modest, sustainable start.
Good design respects us: it doesn't rush and it doesn't mislead. An essay on the everyday courtesy of digital products.
The small shops closing down were never only commercial units; they were the knots that held a neighbourhood together. We traced a disappearing fabric.
Some books open a different sentence each time you return. We discussed why going back to the same page counts as moving forward.
While putting this issue together we asked ourselves a simple question: what does a piece of writing want from its reader? More often than not, the answer was patience. No sentence written in a hurry carries the weight it deserves.
At Zula Post we see slowness as a choice rather than a shortcoming. Each issue will continue to carry a small number of carefully considered pieces. Thank you for reading along with us.
— The Editorial Board