It looked dark. The forest met the night halfway and the shadows were impenetrable, deep.
Not much moved in the cool breeze.
My path went through the darkness and I was pretty sure that outside the edge of the forest was a lake with clear water. The problem was getting there.
I took a first step on the moss at the edge of the rest of my life.
It will be very nice that all websites are updated and work. Now that summer is coming, you want to sit and work with other things in the studio and garden.
Pheww. This was a big job.
Every day is a day into darkness.
The soul is tired.
My head feels heavy.
I want to see snow bells on the ground.
It's just and on it again.
Reading Andy Weir's The Martian, I wish I could write such a fluid text. Exciting but not difficult to read. No Nobel Prize there.
Started the studio again. And my assistant is critically reviewing the work. And take a little nap by the stove in between.