life in the boundary layer
. It’s nice to wake up to daylight. Feels less jarring when you don’t have to stumble around in the dark to find yesterday’s socks.
. Earl grey + oat milk meditations.
. I wonder what it would be like to be an art student. To study and learn and create under the guidance of others. I wonder what it would feel like to pass time working with clay and metals and fabrics. To know how to turn a feeling or memory into a physical thing.
. I wonder about this little life of mine.
. This tornado drill is likely to set-off another series of recurring dreams. We all touch the green Severe Weather Shelter sign. It feels like recess for a moment, kids unleashed from their cages. The hallway amplifies our laughter and turns them into echos.
. There is no such thing as balance. Rather, we are now in a state of constant re-calibration. She understands. I appreciate how we speak each other’s language.
. Why does meeting someone new always bring up feelings of inferiority and insecurity?
. I remind her that I don’t have a dog, after she brushes her crumbs onto my floor.
. The science of improvisation.