Having been parachuted into my new workplace - having been in the army for 2 weeks, driven by a desire to do things well and properly, not just by the book but for my men - I am now half a mess. The last 2 days at work have been clearer and more focussed than any other day this year; I find myself switching between work and reading, information, ideas quickly, the calm and peace of 2 weeks of sun and sleeplessness masquerading as wakefulness, interspersed with hours of being with R and shards of books and articles, have been more restful that I dared hope for. But there is still hunger; a desire to walk down the road talking to myself, standing still, waiting for a moment, touching every life that slips by, a hunger to spend every waking moment immersed in doing and thinking and being, a foolish hunger, no doubt, but an increasingly sharp, present and gnawing hunger. 12 hours of work a day, less sleep than I really need, and struggling to find the space to balance out my hopes and dreams with my fears and doubts, but, hey. It’s working. Cartier-Bresson never had it so easy; I am now a kaleidoscope of untold dreams, slowly awakening. Sigh.
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