We very nearly missed two newsletters, but I returned from the coast a little earlier than expected; now, sitting inside a stone-floored house halfway to home, writing this is heavenly after driving alongside the sun for nearly three hours. If you don't follow me on Instagram, you likely won't know that this past week I've been in the deep southwest, at the very end of the land, breathing in salty air and lurking around in dusty secondhand bookstores. It's been a needed break, but even though I've kept small pieces of work going in between, it feels like monumental effort will be required to shift back into the everything that waits for me at home in Bath.
ON THE JOURNAL THIS WEEK:
Perhaps unsurprisingly, nothing. At the moment the best way to keep up with my daily goings-on in on Instagram Stories (although to view them I think you need to have an account and the app on your device). For me they are a perfect, lightweight combination of image and text, and because they only last for a day before expiring, it means I avoid the overthinking that seems to be inherent to most other forms of publishing. Below are a few from this week, just to give you a better idea of what they are exactly (the words may well be impossible to read in the newsletter format though).
THIS WEEK I FELL IN LOVE WITH:
More than usual. When in a different or foreign place (is anything ever really foreign?) I tend to fall head over heels with tiny overgrown corners, unfamiliar people, the light on the water—in this instance the quirks that seem to exist only in coastal towns or villages.
I also adore these photograph/collage creations by Utah-based American artist Laura Hendricks.
The end.
It looks like this week will be sun upon sun, but I think I'll be residing in the shadows, finishing up loose book ends and working out how the second half of this year might need to unfold. Next time I will include a terribly-exciting book announcement, if I'm allowed to (heck).
I'll finish with: do any of you imagine me living in a certain place? Perhaps in red-earthed countries or Nordic ones? I'm noticing myself begin to pine for a new environment, perhaps at some point next year.
Farewell, see you next sometime.
Copyright © 2017 Ella Frances Sanders, All rights reserved.