get the f*ck out (me, not you)

for some reason i’ve taken into my head to label all my posts to date.
it’s tediously slow going and i fear it’ll take weeks to complete. i’ve only got about a sixth done. but i’ve started, so…
i’ve no idea what prompts this somewhat OCD-leaning behaviour that comes over me. perhaps some part of me feels in need of order or categorisation.

summer is here in dublin. it’s tee and flipflops warm. and sunny. which begs the question, why the bloody hell am i sitting at my laptop when i could be outside…?

off to find some compost for my pots and nasturtium seeds… hands deep in soil makes for good therapy and gentle ordering of the soul… after a week filled with people and conversation, my brain is full and i’m in need of solitude…

hoping it’s sunny with you,

LB

hit ||

i’ve been away for most of the past week (lovely first trip to belfast as a visitor since the move & then flew with family to edinburgh to celebrate my aunt’s 60th), but it’s been packed and i had little time for online things or time on my own.
i’m home for 48 hours and then heading up north again, namely to hang with my dear pal Peterson and do some ikon-ey stuff.

in this space inbetween i’ve a load of things on my to-do list needing attention and with it that over-caffeinated feeling that comes when there’s a backlog of thoughts piling up in the back right hand corner of my skull that i’ve been wanting to reflect and write upon and not had the space…

needless to say, however, all is going pretty good, and so silence for the past week is simply down to the above and not because i’ve fallen down a dark well of… well, darkness.

colour me consciously hitting the pause button and aiming for the next 36 hours to be something other than rushed and containing some solitude so i can write those piled up things out of head and onto page.

LB