A documentation of the sky. This is my new diary, a documentation of different skies – although it’s the same sky, I suppose, like Monet’s water lilies. Painted in different seasons and different light.
I want to put them in a little case because they’re becoming too many, carry them with me. Maybe put them in a journal, one on each page.
(We’ll see)
Fun fact: Yesterday I got really excited about an idea and I wanted to make a pretty headline for it in my notebook, I googled a picture of a lightbulb and everything, and I almost forgot the actual idea like ten times while making it decorative. (BUT I DIDN’T, I PROMISE.)
I switched notebooks today. My parents bought me my previous one when they were visiting me in Florida. It had wooden covers and lined pages, which meant it couldn’t be drawn in and it never looked that good gluing cute notes and memories onto the pages. It was just writing, handwriting that started of nice but then lost it somewhere halfway through. The last page is always an important one, and I wrote on it: this was not pretty, just used. It’s sad, but also not sad, with times like that. Not pretty, just used.
the art of slow living,
(I’ve done more than you)
the art of poverty.
(I’ve gone to a hundred different countries to write poetry)
3 Photos from the past week.
Pink food
(If you fry literally anything at the same time as beets, it turns pink. You can make pink scrambled eggs, it’s great. They used beets to dye fabric back in the day, didn’t they? I keep wondering if it would work on my hair.)
Pink baby
(It’s my friends baby, we didn’t steal it. It’s the cutest baby though, 10/10 would steal.)
Pink painting
(I’m trying to paint some hands and flowers and stuff, but only one hand turned out good, so now I’m trying to restructure everything to focus on that one.)
💗
(Journal entry)
Life is so interesting.
I’ve broken down many times, in many ways.
The autumn of my last year in school, I reached a point – several times – where I physically couldn’t do anything but sit in bed and finally ask for help.
On outreach to Kenya I broke down and then did things anyway.
And while working as a teacher I had to, well, quit working as a teacher because of where it brought me.
I keep walking into walls. Running into them in fact, heart first. I think I should learn to hit them with my shoulders instead, so that I don’t break into a million pieces. But I do also think I’ll be the one to tear them down.
The end! Summary of what books I read during the trip, and about that time I fell into the ocean with my bag.
About my towel, and getting to live like a tourist for a day.
A few journal pages at the same time, because now we come to where I didn’t put as much effort into every page. But we still have a beautiful painting by my friend Tami, and some more stories from our time in the desert.
I am the master of sleeping the whole day, but I can’t do it when my life is just an open undefined un-planned white void of a future when I look at it in my head. So I have to make plans. Lately I’ve been making really detailed schedules. I don’t want to feel like I have to do that every day, but it’s good. Also there’s that leaf I picked while I was out biking and longboarding (between 10 and 10.30 am).
And here’s a cozy picture from last week, when my friend asked if we should drive to the national park closeby, bring a thermos with tea and watch the sunset. Life is v autumnal.
eirians 