Where is my head? Really, I’m just waiting for the sun. Its warmer in Athens, yet still too early to head to the islands. I crave the sea, three months in the city and my need for natures more tranquil manner is building. Yet instead, I’ve been religiously pounding down the Holmes Place pool and spending my days trying to pull my mind back into writing and trying to pull my hand back into painting. Yet really, my minds a circus; full of so many acts, I don’t know which one to perform.
Life is strange; whilst I know I’ve so needed these past months to just be and allow myself sometime to digest and assimilate all that has happened in the last few years of my life. The human mind is so programmed into the consideration ‘that we have to work’ I now feel guilty. Like I’ve missed some undisclosed deadline and should be somehow sacked from my own life for a lazy sub-personality.
Yet its been a crazier month, a few exhibitions, a few parties, an indulgent Easter with friends, a crazy night in the park learning to tango, a frivolous day filming ballerinas on points, so many superior days. Really as it is with the warming sun, so much feels more luminous; I arrived in Athens three months ago knowing a single person. Today 'the lesson is nothing stays the same...'