I’m writing this from my bed. For once. Not from an airport, a bus, a friend’s apartment or a café. From my own bed. In the last month and a half, I only spent three or four days at a time in Prague before zooming out again. Rinse, repeat. For six weekends, I was away.
Six weekends, six countries.
I spent my birthday weekend in Copenhagen and Malmö. A weekend in Karlovy Vary for a photo shoot, a weekend in Southern Bohemia. A weekend in Berlin, and a weekend in Rome. I’m flying to Croatia tomorrow morning for a weekend with my parents.
My mind and heart are full. But I am exhausted. Positively exhausted. With an abundance of material to create and write. With images and memories of people flashing in my mind. There’ll be lots to come this summer.
But it feels good to be in my own bed in the middle of a weekday. With a cup of tea and sunshine coming through my bedroom window. Writing. There aren’t words that would convey how grateful I am.