What is summer for?
I had dreams this spring. Dreams, oh dreams, of all the wonderful things I would spend the days doing after I finished my degree. A digital painting course, of course. Read all the books I bought but never had time to read, indeed. Instead, my drawing tablet has spent the last few weeks in a suitcase while I packed and sent my books to a storage. What a porridge. It appears to me that ‘spare time’ only exists in the mind of the busy, as the ideal salvation after a period of hard and intense work.
My plans included an online course, reading, drawing a new animal every day, posting in here daily, create an exhibition and try to sell the works to give the profits to my local animal foundation, read the few books I squeezed into my luggages, and play a list of games I have conjured up throughout the past few months.
So what do I do? I drive my sisters around (which I do like a lot). I go through all my clothes and give half to charity, half stay on my bedroom floor waiting for the day when they shall re-enter the closet. I worry about my dead Twitter feed loosing me followers, and sign in to find that I have more than the last time I checked. Lesson learned: I’m more interesting when I shut up. So that’s what I’m going to do now. Besides, I’d much rather show you this deer enjoying a day off across the pond of our garden this morning. This chick’s got it all figured out. She knows what summer is for.
(Yes, it’s a garden, not a swamp. I just haven’t cut the grass lately… In like 10 years.)