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Description
It's summer.

A very hot, dry, warm summer. And for the better part of it, I've been facing down a large, concrete wall.

Grey with a white line and splotches of paint, it stands, staring down at me with it's wire fence on the side and shed on the other, as if about to crush me. And in turn, I fight it, attempting to hit it again and again, straining my arm muscles with a racket to get one more shot in, just one more rally, against the impassive grey collosal.

Thwack.

Thwack.

The best bit about this is the thinking time - the way that moving ones body in such a battle seems to stimulate and move thoughts.

And I have had a lot of thoughts as of late, darlings. Mostly to do with the future - that equally impassive wall - which seems to be moving forward, me an unwilling at times passenger on a ride with a distant end. Maybe the track will dip off suddenly. Maybe not. But travel, and uncertainty, and strange but steady love... Such precious, human things.

So I've turned to journal making again. And my thoughts, those red brushed creatures, their tails flickering over my eyelids (oh wake up sleeper!) , have yet again become characters of the story.

Blessings, dear ones,
I hope you like it.
~ Marni

__________________________
Watercolour, plain writing journal, kraft paper, graphite, pen, glue and various stitching tools.

Description
It's summer.

A very hot, dry, warm summer. And for the better part of it, I've been facing down a large, concrete wall.

Grey with a white line and splotches of paint, it stands, staring down at me with it's wire fence on the side and shed on the other, as if about to crush me. And in turn, I fight it, attempting to hit it again and again, straining my arm muscles with a racket to get one more shot in, just one more rally, against the impassive grey collosal.

Thwack.

Thwack.

The best bit about this is the thinking time - the way that moving ones body in such a battle seems to stimulate and move thoughts.

And I have had a lot of thoughts as of late, darlings. Mostly to do with the future - that equally impassive wall - which seems to be moving forward, me an unwilling at times passenger on a ride with a distant end. Maybe the track will dip off suddenly. Maybe not. But travel, and uncertainty, and strange but steady love... Such precious, human things.

So I've turned to journal making again. And my thoughts, those red brushed creatures, their tails flickering over my eyelids (oh wake up sleeper!) , have yet again become characters of the story.

Blessings, dear ones,
I hope you like it.
~ Marni

__________________________
Watercolour, plain writing journal, kraft paper, graphite, pen, glue and various stitching tools.