I could bore you with a million wing shots. Or hotel room shots. Or shots of my telephone and headset. Suffice to say I am buried under an avalanche that is called a new cancer drug launch. Hoping to resurface in London later this week with a few days off. Until then would you kindly sympathize with me when I tell you the Nordics is currently drowning in a wave of frost from Siberia? Oh yes, it is exactly as cold and dark as it looks like on this photo.
Again I remind myself it is we who are on a trajectory away from the sun. The Earth and I are both leaning towards the cold outer space until Christmas. I look at the seashells I picked from the beach sand in Kenya, now looking slightly lost on my windowsill, and remind myself that the heat and light still exist, elsewhere. For now dear Nordics, it is candles, tea, and woollen wraps. And ice-cold airplanes in the morning.
(Hotel J, Stockholm, Sweden; October 2014)