A train journey, out of the city. I sit near a window to catch the mid-morning sun. I watch as the urban concrete is gradually replaced by rolling green.
I’ve been having a lot of conversations recently that have centred on questions of passion and loving your work.
I love it when I get to have a deep, heartfelt conversation that not only reminds me what’s important in life but helps me put it into words. Happy words. Happy days.
It’s the smell that hits me first, almost sweet, and then the breeze, with a slight chill to it, brushes my skin.
It’s a ridiculously simple act and yet it makes such a difference to the person, their work and society as a whole, when we take the time to say: You do great work.
I’m usually an “any ol’ colour as long as it’s black” kind of person but sometime in the last few years my visual senses went chromatic. I’m now beguiled by colour.