224 Media

happy 2026!

the late salutation is intentional. i spent most of january trying to figure out what i was supposed to say about the new year. as a writer, it feels expected to arrive with the right words neatly packaged, some grand declaration of what’s to come. but the truth is, i’m just as confused as everyone else—maybe just a little more willing to admit it out loud.

i went back and forth trying to predict the year, doing the very bria thing of overthinking, forecasting, spiraling a little. so here it is, plainly: i don’t know. just like you don’t know. none of us really do. we are the creators of our own universes, yes—but so much is still out of our hands. we are tiny specks in a vast, unpredictable world, and instead of letting that scare me this year, i’m letting it ground me.

life shifts in the blink of an eye. people change, paths diverge, things end without warning. oblivion is inevitable. and i realized, my life may not matter to historians a hundred years from now—but it matters to me. it matters to my daughters. it matters to the people in my small, sacred orbit and that feels like more than enough reason to build something true.

we took january off intentionally. not to disappear, but to center ourselves —creatively, emotionally, structurally. we wanted the first things we put into the world this year to feel aligned with where i am, cara is and where we’re going. we wanted to plan better, move slower, avoid burnout, and make sure the foundation of this year felt solid before building anything on top of it.

february is about self-care—but not in the shallow, aesthetic way. it’s about taking the lessons we learned last year and actually using them. letting them fuel something sustainable, something nourishing, something lasting. doing and creating things with intention that fuel growth.

2025 was the year of the snake—shedding, releasing, outgrowing skins that no longer fit. 2026 is the year of the horse. movement. momentum. forward motion with intention. this is a year of going analog: returning to our roots, limiting outside noise, choosing depth over distraction. filling our feeds, our minds, and our lives with creative, long-lasting, life-giving things.

this year you’ll see more print media, more in-person events, more opportunities to connect outside of a screen from 224 media. things that can be held, shared, experienced together and alone. i’m deeply excited about this shift—it feels like coming home.

moving forward, you can expect a monthly newsletter like this one—and a special edition with every drop. each will come with journal prompts, playlists, and little creative offerings that live alongside our words, meant to be used, felt, and returned to. not just things to consume, but things to sit with.

our very first drop of 2026, ‘narnia is now nirvana,’ will arrive sunday, february 1st. i can’t wait to share what we’ve been building.

thank you for being here, for reading, for growing alongside me. i don’t have all the answers, but i do know this: i’m committed to building honestly, creating intentionally, and moving forward in my truest form.

here’s to february.  

here’s to care, clarity, and motion.

here’s to doing it together.

with love,  

bria