Here I am wanting to write something, my mind swirls. Italy, places, moments. Beauty, light, detail. They all collide and they don’t slip away. Timeless and eternal, fragrant notes, and collections on this journey. Lately I have been swept up, galvanised, electric, alive. I don’t even know when I will return. And it doesn’t matter because the archive is full. So I write from there, or here. I write from now. I feel slightly on fire. Like a girl on fire. Not that I am a girl anymore. But maybe it is that part of me that wants to explore and find something new. That knows there is so much joy on the other side. Maybe it is her leading the way. She doesn’t know what is coming, all that she knows is that she had to fight for it. She had to lean on her joy and her love to make it happen. She had to question and push against the big wall.
The wall is many things. And has many names, moments, people. Some just don’t want to grow. Some don’t want you to out do them, to be more, to be expansive, to go beyond them. But you have to be yourself, you have to claim everything you wanted and everything you believed. If you don’t take yourself seriously, then who will?
Late last year, I thought maybe I will do a few more podcasts, a few that I had been wanting to share - Bologna, Milano and tarocchi in Italy and tell a few more stories and then I will divert my attention. And then along came February and my will became so strong. So intense it felt wrong to abandon it. Wrong to ignore the excitement, the joy, the ideas, the dream.
I am a girl with too many ideas.
So I woke up. And then this beautiful thing landed in my lap. My happiness.
Sometimes it doesn’t need to make sense. Sometimes you just have to trust that maybe it will one day, when it doesn’t even matter any more.
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