Packing.
Even though there's no place to go.
I love these, how they celebrate possibility. And natural order. I could love them forever just like this. The promise of play. A never ending game of what if.
So, let's look at that thing I said, and take another perspective. Packing, because there are a million places to go.
Good Morning.
I wake, not rested.
I like the change in pattern as the light hits the blinds.
Like stitching. The magic in light and dark. Repeat.
I've managed to put a new post up at Part 2.
More looking is on the schedule for this week. Add car troubles to the mix.
Today's nine from what was on hand. A blur, but not.
Patches have become travelling companions.
...might call them "the tendency to rise up" as a nine patch. But I have a tendency to do that sort of thing.
