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┬áthat ‘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.

Deer in our garden. My mom's and stepdad's house, in Kvinesdal, South of Norway.

Deer in our garden. My mom’s and stepdad’s house, in Kvinesdal, South of Norway.

(Yes, it’s a garden, not a swamp. I just haven’t cut the grass lately… In like 10 years.)