knife

Before I had the Year of Art, I had the Year of Friendship. It was actually two years, but who’s counting.

These yearly themes aren’t really supposed to end when the year does. Something always sticks. One of the things that stuck from the Year of Friendship is that I now tend to say yes when someone asks me to do something. Relationships are the most important thing in life, and I don’t want to look back one day and think I should have done more, tried more, or spent more time with the people I care about.

That being said, I don’t think this philosophy will extend to eating at fancy restaurants much more often. The food is delicious, sure, but I’m mostly there for the company, and by the next day I’ll probably have forgotten almost everything I ate. I have friends who can still tell me about that incredible mushroom steak they had in Copenhagen ten years ago or whatever. That’s just not me.

Food is very much an in-the-moment kind of thing for me. I enjoy it while it’s there, but it doesn’t have a huge impact on how I remember an experience overall, as long as it’s good and healthy enough.

A very special day with the most special person.

We drove to Bremerhaven, very close to where I grew up, to visit the Klimahaus and my father. It was a surreal experience to be in those places with Anna. I usually try to avoid going there, but this time it was nice, even if Linus, my father’s ageing dog, tore a ligament later that day while trying to chase a cat.

I turned 37 on that day! That number doesn’t remotely reflect the age I feel I should be, but who am I to argue with Chronos?

We didn’t have a single day with fewer than 20,000 steps, and after a while, it definitely started to show.

I painted this without a sketch, and it shows. Which is both a good and a bad thing at the same time.

It was a cute little day.

A cup is not a precise unit of measurement, and Oz is home to a wizard.

It was a slow and cozy day.