Inadvertedly, life has faded into the slowest of seasons: light indoors has become dim. There is time to listen to new and meaningful music recordings, which have just been released.

And now there are new shadows in the corners, and in other old spots that we had previously failed to notice.

Hence: the intent to fill in the somber intersections with what it resembles animate existence in the most accurate mode.

Therefore: the need to feed. To nurture.

A requirement to care for just any one living being that allows such a disturbingly selfless act.

In an attempt hopefully useful to continue to build a life that it does, indeed, make a little bit of sense to those involved.

I have a new home to live in, a new life to be built, and a new plant collection to be grown and get inspired with.

Don’t think I’d risk another these days

I keep an archive of all the projects to be made. I got restless and have been for a while, now. Sleep deprived. How to get calmer when I’m getting older. And so I feel “it is my last chance”, useless and mistakenly. Mislead by consciousness and heartbeats. Against my own wellbeing…

From our window, the sunsets captivate our senses regularly ✨ We think about the colours, always the colours. Peach pinks, cobalt blue, lilac. A cozy warmth wraps me up whilst I am indeed afraid, at all times. It gets scarier the more you have to loose. I force myself to let go, let go, let go.