When things get utterly disrupted like this water spillage, I swear profusely, clean up, apply bandages if need be, then leave it all behind to take a big deep breath up on the roof top.
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Found: a cutting of red hair, still dry.
To get back on the horse, I'll make something fresh, and fast. I have been inspired by the Pina Bausch dancers from Wim Wenders' documentary, listening to the soundtrack on heavy rotation. I want a long rope of hair again, after seeing this film, and more vintage slips to spin around in.
It was a good thing; that spill.
To have come undone. To have seen some daylight. To be provoked to shake it up a bit.
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