Maybe inspired by my recent dreams of ships and sea, last Sunday my favorite man in the world suggested that we drive to the end of the world.
And we did.
The day was perfectly gray.
The line between the water and air almost nonexistent.
I loved seeing him:
I wanted to be this bird:
I saw this tiny place... I don't know what it is, probably not a house. But it looks like a little house, and I immediately thought that I would love to stay there. I don't think that I could tire of looking at all that huge space. I felt like my lungs could breathe twice as much as normal and my heart was happy.
Actually, my heart was not happy at all while I was climbing the steps. 308 doesn't sound like much, and maybe it isn't, but I am so out of shape that my heart was pounding so much that it felt like it will burst out...
Since I can't live in that little house, I can imagine it and I can put it in my journal so I never forget.
I was cutting the words from a book that reminded me of what we experienced and randomly placing them on the page. My plan was to cut the edges with more care later, and to find just the right place for them on the page. But when I stopped to look at it - I actually loved it just the way they fell, so I left them like that.
The week is almost over, but in my mind I'm still there...
I think it's my new "happy place".
I think it's my new "happy place".





































