Lotta the Postcard Girl isn’t just a character in a yellow coat with a great love of postcards. She came into being a long time ago from a question that has always stayed with me: How do we actually show people that we’re thinking of them?
Today, we send messages, hearts, photos and voice messages around the world with a few quick taps of our fingers. We can reach one another at any time, across countries and continents, and that’s a wonderful thing. And yet, for me, there’s another form of closeness. One that takes a little longer, that fits on a piece of paper, travels a distance and eventually turns up in a letterbox.
That’s where Lotta begins.
Lotta stands for the analogue connection in a digital world. Not because she’s against the digital world – quite the opposite. She loves all the possibilities available today. But she reminds us that thoughtfulness sometimes lies in this small effort in between: sitting down, thinking of someone, choosing a card, searching for the right words, sticking on a stamp and sending something off, not knowing exactly when it will arrive. It is precisely this little bit of faff that makes a postcard so special.
Actually, it’s not really about the postcard at all.
For Lotta, a postcard is much more than just a piece of paper. Because the moment a card is chosen for a specific person, it changes. A printed piece of paper becomes something personal. A message that can convey a sense of closeness across a distance. For me, every handwritten card already holds something special even before the first word has been read: I’ve been thinking of you. I’ve taken the time. For you. For me, that’s the real magic.
Of course, the digital world connects us too. It makes many things easier, quicker and often possible in the first place. But a message on paper has a different presence. You can hold it, stand it up, stick it on the fridge, tuck it between books or leave it in a drawer and rediscover it years later. Perhaps the handwriting is a bit crooked, perhaps there’s a smudge somewhere, a postmark sits across the design, or the card has picked up a small crease on its journey. All of that suddenly becomes part of its story.
And at some point, it’s no longer just a message, but a memory of a moment and of a person.
The world between posting and arrival
For Lotta, a card doesn’t end at the postbox into which it is posted. In fact, that’s where its story really begins. Because between being posted and arriving, there is this magical time whilst the card is on its way. You have let it go, the other person knows nothing of it yet, and somewhere in between it moves through a world we cannot see.
It is precisely in this in-between space that Lotta’s magical world begins.
There, thoughts and postcards travel over mountains of love, sleep beneath giant wonder-flowers, encounter strange creatures and discover words that perhaps can only grow there. There are sparkling paths, sky swings and shooting-star dust, her toy friends and sometimes a postcard takes a little detour on its journey, simply because in Lotta’s world, the shortest route isn’t always the only option. In Lotta’s world, anything is possible.
In the end, however, each of these journeys leads back to our real world – to a person. Lotta loves this in-between time so much because not everything has to be there straight away. A thought is allowed to be on its way for a while before it arrives. And knowing Lotta, her favourite moment isn’t actually the writing, nor is it posting the card. It’s the moment she herself can’t even see: when, somewhere, someone unsuspectingly opens their letterbox and, amongst the adverts, bills and all the usual post he discovers something meant just for him.
A card from her.
She keeps imagining how the recipient will react. Perhaps they’ll read it straight away, or maybe later, when they’ve a moment to themselves over a coffee. She pictures the smiles on people’s faces when they find a card. Perhaps it’ll be put on display straight away, or someone will pause for a postcard moment: ‘How lovely, someone’s been thinking of me.’ Lotta loves to imagine these moments. Probably far more often than anyone realises.
That’s exactly why Lotta exists
Lotta doesn’t need big presents or grand gestures. Instead, she believes in the little things that are shared between people. A greeting for no particular reason, a few words for someone who could do with a bit of encouragement, a card to someone you haven’t seen for a long time, or simply an ‘I’m thinking of you’ that turns up unexpectedly in your letterbox one day.
For her, this kind of communication is the most beautiful way to connect with people. It’s quiet and it doesn’t disappear straight away. You can keep it, read it again, and sometimes you find it years later and are suddenly back in the midst of that one moment.
Perhaps that’s why our world doesn’t actually need any less digital communication. Perhaps it simply needs a few more analogue moments in between. Moments in which we consciously turn our attention to another person and don’t just send a thought off, but give it a journey. This is where Lotta sees her purpose in this world: to bring closeness along the (postal) route.
Love to you all - Inge and Lotta #thecardgirl
