The northern lights are beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. It’s like watching someone paint the sky with watercolours.
(I’m kinda tired of these kinds of posts - lists of notes of things I’ve written down while I’ve been offline - but they’ll be ending soon, when the project ends and I leave the country. That’ll be in a few weeks.)
They broadcast a list of the people who died on the radio here, daily, after the news. Just a list of names and where they lived, announced by whoever read the news that day. I don’t know how I’d feel if I found out about someone’s death this way. I think I am going to write a story about it.
The universe is expanding but the amount of energy inside it remains the same.
The universe is slowly becoming a colder place.
"You’re so pretty it’s starting to rain."
"kisses, lips, small and darting, like the plucking of some exquisite fruit"
"like living on a stage set that’s about to be dismantled"
One of the little things I like about this summer - about how my life has changed (albeit temporarily) - is the inventory of my pockets. Where once I’d step out of my house and out of habit double-check what was in my pockets (wallet in the front right, phone in the front left, keys in the back right), I have, for the last few months, stepped out of my tent and double-checked for a totally different set of things (penknife in the front-right, notebook/pen in the back-right). I like that. I like the simplification of it, the practicality of it, the dumb symbolism of it.
I was tasked by my last employer to build a specific software system. Another employee and I spent the majority of a year working on it. I estimate it cost in excess of £100 000 to create. It never launched and, for the most part, I have nothing to show for that year of my time.
A few weeks ago, over the period of a morning, I built a couple of stone steps that, with a bit of luck, will last 10 to 15 years.
It’s strange to hear people call what I’ve done this summer a “holiday.”