The days are all about luxuriating in doing NOTHING important. Nothing urgent. Not finding envelopes for fallen baby teeth. Not answering a single solitary question. Not seeing other humans or hearing chatter. It’s difficult to describe the strong need I have for solitude. For fantastically uncivilized behavior.
In the quiet of the day I went out back to the spraypaint station. A squirrel watched me from high up on the roof. We worked out there together. Me on my stencils, he on his acorns.
The visual journal didn’t end up going to Carmel. Too heavy and cumbersome for the road. I took my plain old writing journal instead. Here’s what became of those pages I had made up in advance.
New Year’s Day sunset was spectacular. Wide bands of fire spreading out across the sky. Stars blooming in the dark spaces.
From my porch I watched.
A silent, alert witness.
Maybe, like me, you are entranced by security envelopes. I’ve been using them on almost every page.