Friends,
Six years ago, when I started THE SUN, I knew every subscriber and every contributor. It was personal journalism in the most literal sense — emerging from a family of free-thinkers sharing with each other their most personal visions. Sometimes the words were raw and unpolished, sometimes they gleamed. The openness and unpredictability of the conversation — like talk among friends around the kitchen table at night — made it unique.
For 58 issues, we’ve been at it. The family has grown, but the intimacy prevails. Not everyone is known by name, but everyone has a place at the table. Sometimes you’re put to sleep, sometimes you’re angered, sometimes the truth in someone’s words parts the night.
