the feeling of interseasonal fatigue
the truth is that there is so much more i want to do — like animate this still butterfly, like draw a collection of butterflies and other insects (pin them down, as if with a metal pin, from the nebulous fog of my imagination), then draw glass jars to put them all in, tucked away in a room in this web-house, all of them fluttering at once, where i’ll inviting you to visit, to play, to adopt one, if you’d like.
but this entire week i’ve been so - fatigued - i can’t seem to do much in the vertical axis. the fridge broke and all the turkish cheeses inside are spoiling. i feel malfunctioning. today i am: abandoning all of my to-do lists and spending the afternoon reading, watching tv shows, giving myself permission to not think about all the butterflies not yet drawn. all the inspiration unchased, emails and messages unreplied.
it is warm here in istanbul — the kind of interseasonal week where you stand on a bus wearing winter jackets, feeling confused to be sweating. i think i am feeling lost, missing winter.