Member-only story
Early in the morning when the sun cracks between the curtains, my thoughts wake up and the morning chill tells me that the sun will have a hard time. My eyes wander through the quiet room. The sounds from outside try to shape my world. I pull open the curtains. A bird sits dreamily on a branch in my small garden. I wipe my breakfast off the plate and put it in the sink, later I will wash up.
I stand still in the room trying to remember my dreams. I don’t succeed. The dreams came and went. As the shadows of the watery sun move through the room: suppose I were to travel around the world. Travel through dangerous areas. Meeting people and possibly having conversations about the world of tomorrow. Traveling across infinite oceans, through red-hot deserts and watching in amazement how man tries to survive there.
The clock in the room betrays me, I’ve been standing there for far too long. I continue with my daily routine. My studio is still dark. The door is still squeaking, will I start lubricating the hinge, tomorrow? My new canvas is already on my easel. I prepare the canvas to paint the background. Browsing through my drawings I look for a drawing that I find suitable for my painting.
My mind is running again. I stare at the selected drawing. The drawing was made several years ago. Yes, I remember: that was in Nice, France.
