This weekend has been: re-connecting with my body, running around Princes Park; indulgent breakfast of poached eggs, pancetta, sourdough, parmesan, tomato and two flat whites; pondering how I could be of service; savouring juicy nectarines picked fresh from my Mum's garden; reading The Age A2 section; listening to an inspiring podcast; luxuriating in Moroccan Orange Blossom, Pink Grapefruit and other sweet sparkling indulgences; adding layers to my gessoed canvases; laughing with the little 'un as we dress Elmo in her jammies; diving into a new novel; putting things in place to step into February, the month of purification.
It has also been: to-ing and fro-ing in my mind about sharing my Mondo Beyondo list in this space, and how much or little to share; eating unhealthy food; doubting how I could be of service; drinking more cider than I should; waiting (im)patiently while my husband spent most of the day on the computer, trying to get wireless broadband to work; bemoaning the rising temperature in the house; an impulse online purchase; getting cross with my Mum for asking -- as she has every time she has seen me of late -- whether I was OK and why I was looking so tired/flat/grumpy; envying the sleek street style of others.
Right now I find myself: lethargic; dreaming of Paris; grateful for this morning's two hour nap; aching all over; thinking about everything I have To Do this evening; wistful for North Africa; still unsure of how I could be of service; keen not to spend too much time online; reflecting on the ways in which LOVE has surfaced and remained hidden in January; excited about finishing my two canvases; aching for the cool change; looking forward to February, the month of purification.
Sometimes I feel too much. Sometimes I feel not enough. Sometimes all at once.
For now, I want to leave it be.
Back to the world of the novel for me.