My son just landed in Budapest.
Despite the moon, I had a long grand sleep.
I am considering painting a nine-patch on the floor. What if I just do that?
I am going to call this cloth Moving Through. I used to call it No Eyedea. For a while anyway.
I think all the beasts are strays. Honoring the freedom to Be. Yet traveling together. Keepers of the In between.
I'm rocking inward for a few days. I thought I would not post today. But I did.