The Art in Ordinary

Another week has gone by in this and that. In my London stories and my New York hat.

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I took a deep breath, drowned myself in books. Floated in a sea of familiar faces and neighbourhoods.

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Deafened myself with music, everyone else with my excitement: my new ukulele is money well spent.

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The nights have been too busy for sleep. There are movies to see, friends to meet. Promises to keep.

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This is home, sweeter for the time apart. Now I see that ordinary is its own kind of art.

[I thought it might be interesting to throw in here that the cover photo on the banner of my blog is not in fact just random coffee stains, but part of a little thing I painted a year ago. My coffee that morning looked better on paper than it tasted in my mouth.]

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the big picture

My shoes are also patched up and good to go again. Good old duct tape.

xox

Nelli

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