room with a view 3

After an anonymous airport hotel, I found myself in a stylish room with some personality and well off the beaten track.

Unusually, the colour scheme suits my skin tone. In fact, I’d look good wearing the bedspread.

Every photo is a dramatic photo when the light is this low.

Get another view of this same room in room with a view 2.

Sinful Sunday: It’s all about the image.

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room with a view 1

In transit, in an anonymous room at an anonymous airport hotel. This room either faces the front overlooking a parking lot and the road, or the back overlooking a different parking lot and an airline building. Nothing to see here.

Each room virtually the same as the next — pleasant enough, though characterless.

But what about the guests?

I have three other travel-themed series: Mile High, One-Track Mind and Aerodrome. But it’s high time that hotel rooms get their own, so welcome to my first Room With a View.

Sinful Sunday: It’s all about the image.

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Boobday: self-care

I feel deeply. It’s a mere membrane between me and the world, thin and porous. Shutting off feeling is impossible, and even if it could be done, I wouldn’t. If I did, I wouldn’t be me. The pain and anguish of others is so loud that I tend to forget where lies the boundary between “mine” and “not mine”.

So I close the door for a while.

I’m in the middle of my period today. The pain lodged deep in my gut – at turns aching, or throbbing, or twinging, or fading into a background hum – that’s mine. Neither good nor bad, it just is.


It’s a glorious day today, and unseasonably warm. The sort of day that invites you outside, to feel the breeze on your skin, to squint into the sun, to move and stretch and work, to be aware of being alive, as though the plottings of humans were irrelevant to the rising and setting of the sun and the moon, to the flowing of the rivers and the growing of the trees.

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Sinful Sunday: barefoot

Sinful Sunday

This month the theme is “simple pleasures”.

My feet get cold easily, so socks are absolutely mandatory during the colder months. Nothing against socks as a concept, but I don’t love wearing them. As soon as it’s warm enough, I delight in going sockless. I’m not sure why, exactly. Perhaps I feel more grounded. I do like being able to pick things up with my toes, though there’s not usually much call for that particular talent.

As the weather turns cooler and the leaves fall, my simple pleasure is the last few days of going barefoot.


I think being able to take pleasure in the simple things is a tremendous skill.