Sometimes decisions pile up.
Sometimes I never can make one and so it floats away like a ghost (rabbit). I hope it wasn’t important or I’ll feel bad.
Sometimes I KNOW what I want to eat, what to wear, what art to make, what tasks need attention.
For a year I haven’t been able to decide what to hang on my bedroom wall. Categorise this under ‘trifling’. But I love wispy things, torn edges and drifting, floating curios.
Now I have 21 squares on my wall so I don’t have to decide. I have a Japanese whale; pictures from friends; RM’s ear; a watercolour from Sweden; letterpress cards from Australia sent to me while I recovered; a poem about melons…
My bleary morningeyes or tired nighteyes don’t mind which one.
