It’s Thursday night and theres a mist slowly creeping. The air is a little thicker than normal as the humidity rises and i’m thankful i can let my hair down, take my bra off and wash my hands of the bullshit at the end of the day. I’ve been diving into my creative pit and living in it. I have knitted pieces to post on my etsy ( finally ) and i’ve been playing around with filming as much as i could; not to mention writing every single day, even if its just a page. Hustling.
Theres not a night that passes where i don’t miss listening to the coyotes singing outside my window. One night i woke and there was a coyote right outside the window, it was so close i could smell it and he gave out a deep solemn howl. It scared the shit outta me at first, but it was so hauntingly beautiful that i shall never forget it and i will always hope to hear them in the night again. Now, it’s a remembrance of home.