Dear Ray, Mies and Benny,

I didn’t take an actual holiday, Ray. I took a couple of weeks off from The Red Hand Files because I was busy touring around Europe with Colin Greenwood and, in between, working with Warren in the studio on the score for the Bunny Munro TV series (which has turned out to be a beautiful thing), as well as another score for a very dark, intensely violent noir series. I was tired and didn’t have the emotional stamina to read all the questions, let alone answer them in any meaningful way.

The letters that come into The Red Hand Files have always served as an emotional barometer of the world we find ourselves in, and engaging with them demands a certain resilience. During these shrill and volatile times preserving their integrity and purity becomes increasingly challenging. I was tired, overwhelmed, and vulnerable, so I took a couple of weeks off.

Last night, I returned to The Files with a clear and rested mind, and there they were once more – hundreds of letters, that lovely, rolling river of joy, longing, sorrow, humour, and anger – and I was touched anew by that familiar feeling of gratitude and love.

I thought on your question, Mies, “Did love mean freedom to me?” I reflected on the things that matter most to me on this earth – my family, friends, those within my sphere of influence, my music, my writing, my spiritual life, and the health of the world in general, all these elements that, together, constitute a life lived lovingly. Mies, these things seem far from freedom. Instead, they are forms of containment that place demands upon us, sometimes greatly so. The pursuit of love involves feelings of duty and responsibility, as well as sacrifice, hard work, resilience, patience, forgiveness, and understanding. These are the structural bonds within which supreme love can flourish.

As I read the letters in The Red Hand Files last night, I experienced the tumultuous and conflicted surge of love that flows through them, and that I recognise so well. It also occurred to me that it has been seven years this week since I began this project. Seven years. I sensed my heart opening, and a wave of renewed energy washed over me, and I wrote down these words as a kind of benediction, a bliss –

‘Hello, Benny, hello.’

Love, Nick

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