I just spend two weeks in the city and have not found time to work.
I enjoyed the city and our city house tremendously. I took several walks (ok, two) and took some trains and enjoyed the urban people with their smart clothes and their plans. I enjoyed how the city operates, how everything is organized and how people work together.
I did not feel the need to participate and run along and be smart too and be succesfull. Well, not much anyway.
I did manage to change pace quickly and do things and then rest up on the couch and later on do another thing. I remembered how I took up knitting for when I have to lay down because I am so bored then (but not bright enough to write). So I knit when I lied down. I visited a lot of friends (compared to what I’m used to). Did a lot of doctor things. I did not shower much… also, I frequently forgot to change my socks.
Now I’m looking forward to go back to the cabin. Be amongst wool and handmades and nature. And Spring running away from me. I’ll never get that patch of land formed in the way that I envision….
well. Just keep readjusting dreams and ambitions to the hours and the energy I have in a day. I’ll bring the notebooks back to the cabin. This weekend is for cleaning up (the cabin and myself)(and my socks), getting rested and preparing food for next week. First thing Monday: sit at desk and write. It will start with a prelude this weekend when I’ll read up on a bit of the materials, get that vibe singing. I love that phase: the anticipation fun.
(I may have plans to take a car trip to a rose nursery tomorrow and buy roses which then have to be planted around the cabin and the patch of land. This will thwart all other plans)
pic Den Bosch by Michiel Verbeek