This week has been all staccato notes. I've been thinking in unhinged words rather than sentences, my brain jumpy and restless and unsubduable. So, I'm glad for this four-day weekend and vague, but hopeful, plans to get my shit together.
You can always tell I'm burning out when I use my blog to reach for more beautiful things. It's funny now I think about it: When it pretties up around here, I'm probably my most harried and when I'm banging on about my angsty old self, I'm probably pretty grand. A past version of me would insert something about the intentional fallacy (pdf) here, but I'm too tired.
Still, there's something of a salve in the purely pretty. Like these ceramics - beautiful, right? I particularly love the soft pink and blue mugs. Or ideas about making Elderflower Cordial, a recipe by way of home.
When I'm in this mood, all our wordiness feels like jabber. And I think how nice it would be to switch it off. Even to retire from words. And I think of Alice perhaps spending hours on Pinterest instead and beating down any sentences that spring up.
I think it's okay to feel this way for a while and know I'll 180 on myself and grow tired of the flimsiness of pretty and want to use my words again. But, this weekend: just quiet and lovely things.