Two days of rain wasn't my hope for the weekend, but maybe it was what the doctor ordered. Rain slows me right down. I light candles and watch old black-and-white films, eat cheese and chocolate, my favourite sins, (so favourite there's no repentance). I avoid shopping, but buy some new Blundestones at the shoe shop anyway. I listen to Great Lake Swimmers and take baths.
I think about how little I seem to miss coffee, then I go out and get one and the new World of Interiors. I open the windows to hear the rain and stay cold so I can bundle up. I pull on my big cashmere cardigan and lay my head back on the couch. I read letters Beckett wrote, feeling the awe I feel for only a few people.
I think about the next two weeks and feel nervous and hopeful. I think about all there's left to do and the vagaries of my need for perfection and my acceptance of imperfection. I wonder about you, the people who read my blog, and I think about connections with others and how mysterious and impossible other people are to me.
Then I think about the people who know me in the real world and read my blog. And I wonder what they really think about it and who of them thinks scornful things, as surely some of them must. And I think that I probably think too much about what everyone else thinks and note that I always assume the worst.
I dream about reinventing myself. I dream about accepting myself. I make mental lists of things I'd wish for if I had three wishes (more wishes, of course). I snooze. I make a cup of tea. I watch a movie I know will make me cry. I go for a walk in the rain and let my face get wet. I think I really love the rain.
Products: Letters from Samuel Beckett to artist Avigdor Arikha and his wife, Anne Atik via / MHL Cropped Duffel from Margaret Howell / Tissue crewneck tee from J.Crew / Vince pants from Net-a-Porter / Phoebe Liberty Print UmbrellaLiberty / Signet ring from Conroy & Wilcox / Arceau watch from Hermes / de Palma Handsewn Lluc Bag from Dear Fieldbinder / Common Projects Oxford from Gravity Pope from