It's been a hell of a couple of years.

Between pandemic, political unrest, and the looming threat of nuclear war, it seems we've checked off nearly every big-ticket existential stressor in the book. With each passing day, it seems more and more challenging to find a sense of still.

Against this backdrop, my affinity for escapism has become amplified. I've found myself gravitating towards "comfort food content" more than I'd care to admit. I don't think I'm alone in this. Rose-hued nostalgia seems to be permeating every corner of culture, from Top Gun to Stranger Things to Spider Man. Even in the age of Euphoria, there's still something that resonates about John Hughes flicks.

Accordingly, when I stumbled upon Violet Heights, the timing seemed impeccable. Violet Heights felt like a gateway into a simpler, more charming reality. I found myself taking it out on long drives. Cruising aimlessly, getting lost in the hopped-up Linn Drum sections and saccharine string parts. I sincerely hope that it provides you too, if just for a moment, a sense of reprieve as well. Take it out for a drive on Friday night - see where you can get away to.

‍With Love,

MD