Sometimes, life just calls for some calm, blue-grey, slightly sad pondering. I feel like a wandering soul, lost in the world. Other souls seem to find a kindred spirit, no matter how awful they are.
I wish I could have a little cabin on the shore of an island like Ireland or England, or a northern coast somewhere, to do with what I will, sit in nature when I want, run around naked if I please. I wish I could write and paint and draw and sculpt for a living, but that takes money, as does all living. Maybe sometime in life I will be able to afford the land, and build the cabin of my dreams... start an orchard and a garden and a few livestock for a self-sustainable existence.
I would live in softness and clouds, surrounded by light and in partnership with nature. Washing my clothes in a stream, drying them by the sun, laying naked on the hill, caressed by the sun and the breeze. Writing by candlelight, waking with the dawn. Singing with the wind, whatever tune pleases my ears. Creating whatever pleases my eyes and my soul.
If only dreams and wishes came true...
Ondine
I Capture the Castle
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