depository

Was out in the worst heat today, walking rapidly from shade to shade, and could feel the resting happy-face that’s been breaking through every time I go outside. The world genuinely seems so much more enticing, enjoyable and real like this.

It always messes with me for ages when I accidentally skew my day/night cycle too much, so I don’t want to do that — I don’t want to sacrifice most of a week to getting it back on track. But, even more than that, I wish it didn’t matter.

For weeks now I have been craving real time off from everything. What I need is a couple of weeks in a summer house or cabin, preferably close to the sea and some woods. Somewhere to draw, paint and write, and not much else. Instead I am sorting through papers, emptying shelves and drawers, packing boxes to be moved.

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