Wednesday, October 03, 2012
ocean. inspiration. healing
I left my room-and-creative studio, then the house, at 6h30; Sascha the blonde German shepherd tried to follow me. But today I wanted to be alone (who on earth said you can't start a sentence with but?) so I shooed her away.
The house is 800m from the Indian ocean, that includes a steep 100m drop from the cliff top to sea level; one day I'll count the steps as I charge back up them: it's my proof to self that all resistance can be whipped, even twice if need be.
I ran to The Royale (so un-aptly named, never mind un-aptly designed: where do bad South African architects spend purgatory? I know! In Tuscany. Tuscany, Italy that is), then took the slippery steps and the winded path to the beach.
I love stripping off my vest, kicking off my running shoes, the first feet on sand-surf-white foam: At sea level, with The Greatness before me, I give thanks for my aliveness and for my healing.
This place - 595.3 km from Waterval Boven - is where I have come to live, to heal, to recuperate, to love, and to e loved.
Yesterday I rested from phone and email, today I work: I am location independent.