Brunch with friends at Trafalgars buzzing with creative ideas. A merry meeting with mead and local beekeepers. Dozing in and out of daydreams with a Cotswolds mystery in my hands. Life is good. I hope you all have days like this.
I had a dream last night about performance art anxiety. The critics did not have a happy ending, so I woke up in a pretty good mood. Sometimes schadenfreude rules!
I'm still feeling like I'm performing under water these days. You probably heard the horror story about the family in Quebec that was swallowed by a giant mud slump as they watched tv in their basement. My brain is having minor slumps these days, collapsing in on itself. One becomes afraid of movement. This is normal. This is annoying. How can an entire family disappear in the space between a commercial and the start of the third period of a hockey game? No one is safe. I can't dwell on this.
The smell of basil from the kitchen is overwhelming. Pungent and alive.
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