I write like you already know the backstory. Does that make you feel left out of anything?
Make life an eternal vacation. Even work should be a joy.
Make space to take naps when you need them. Even in the middle of the day.
Maybe I can sell the passionflower vines if they root well. Heard they can grow 20-40 feet in a single season, that’s enough of a reason.
Do my words catch better when there’s a bit of anger behind them? I’m fighting now against what comes when you’re happy. The slow molasses of carefree relaxation. Unburdened by the need to go, to get things done, to get somewhere other than where we’ve strung.
My hummingbird is back. Need a solid name for him, do you have any suggestions? I’m quite certain it’s a boy, based on absolutely nothing but assumption. He’s a little green-blue. He likes buzzing me when I’m out on the patio.
Made a workstation on my porch today. Umbrella up, bamboo privacy walls, patio furniture and sheepskin to rest my bum upon.
I want to collect free scrap wood to make bizarro canvas frames. My mom sent me an easel and oil paints, reminding me I haven’t left everything from my past in the past.
On Facebook marketplace looking for linseed and liquin.
Home projects should wait until the weekend. But I want to do them all right this minute.
Eat good food, tuck myself in at night.
Laid out in the sun, bathing baking. Beautiful moment when I’m sweating.
Didn’t like this paper, but we’re drawing anyways.
