I crave an empty white room.
The cats remember me.
The kids look bigger in the apartment now. So do the cats.
The tools of survival are different here.
The way forward is to walk forward with your eyes closed and say yes.
My compost is beautiful.
Feelings are exhausting.
Both cats are at my feet now, sleeping.
We watched half of Pina before bedtime. The girls like when the dancers dance-kiss. They love the romance. The “love parts.” Maewyn says the man is sculpting the other two dancers in Café Mueller. She’s right. They do not like the red dress in Le sacre du printemps. Who does?, I think.
Watching the dancers hands is like dreaming. This is the art I want to make. Who am I kidding?, I think.
All of us agree, it would be incredible to dance in dirt.
When?, I wonder.