Buon pomeriggio Travellers,
For the cheap seats in the back, Today is Saturday…
Do you believe that art or an artist needs suffering in order to create? Doesn’t strife strike the imagination like a match? I mention this only because I have felt very heightened in terms of inspiration during this whole epidemic. I feel energized in the act of creation right now in a way I haven’t for a long time.
Buenos Dias Travellers,
Yesterday afternoon around 3:45 pm, I laid down on my bed. Alone. So quiet. Just laid there. On my back with the windows open. Eyes closed. The weight of my body sinking into the mattress. There was just a whisper of a breeze and the sunlight slinking in the spaces between the curtain panels. The dogs were lying on the floor breathing in a slow rhythm that kept time with the whirl of the ceiling fan. Outside there was an orchestra of birds, some singing, some pecking, some tweeting, and a distant dog barking. It was like the world was lying down for a nap.
It was absolutely luscious in every way. The kind of moment we attempt to replicate again and never quite capture.
