After a week in California, I return feeling inspired (to the extent of avoiding sleep, currently), drawing from new sources. And, if this trip was a story—which it was, really—the moral would be one on the importance of conscious living. Every minute deserves the weight of being labeled "a choice."
I am my day. I am the decisions I make. I am how I spend my time.
[A digital shot from Sam until my film's developed.]
It's sometimes a tight knit and other times a loose web, but always with similar elements—a hot drink, a bit of exercise, a few pages of a book, breakfast, some tidying. I allow myself the fascination of changing light; I sit there and get goosebumps watching it, thinking about it. I can't believe this happens! Every morning I think: I can't believe this happens.
P.S. Mary Oliver on the morning.
(I used this recipe, above. Next time I'll split the flour, since I found the sole use of whole wheat, in this instance, a little too pungent for my liking.)