finally, perhaps, a return to this blog (i always seem to drop things, when life gets in the way) looking back over my last few posts i get a strong sense of blazing sun and ednless waiting, i think the summer was mostly over by the time i had written those, but at the time it seemed it was only just beginning. now i can't understand how the world has sealed itself up suddenly, everything retreated, sucked backwards into itself, none of the full and easy flowing of summer. sometimes i worry about how fast time passes, the moment i really start to notice that summer is here it has gone, and no doubt it will be the same for winter. this never used to happen, and i worry this is what is called growing up. perhaps those endless summers we all seem to remember from childhood are just a perversion of our memories, but i think time really was slower back then... and as it is speeding up now, i can now longer pretend i am a child, but must accept that i am an adult, and the seasons will continue to pass like ripples instead of ages.
i have suddenly freedom on my hands, and no idea what to do with it. i remember last year i had so many plans and thoughts, they crystalised in my head like little diamonds... i know in reality all i want to do is go for walks, and plant seeds, and draw and paint, and write, and bake cakes, and write letters, and most of all read and think and just take some time to clear my head, allow myself for once to only have to answer to myself. but, the pressure is, i shall never be able to describe that eloquently to anyone who asks what i am doing... i feel i should be producing grand visible things to justify that this time is not a waste, but it is the nagging feeling i should be doing so that is exactly what is wasting this time.
hot sun on my back today, walking across the carpark in the sharp air, only a yellow cardigan in december...