The wild

Dear Hannah,

We are in a second lockdown here, which means I’m mostly inside the atelier again. It’s harder for me to surrender to it this time. I know the room and I know the view from the window. Close to everything that I see is human made; the houses with the brick walls, the gutter where the pigeons perch, the copy machine in the office building across the street, this desk and chair, my water bottle, the tea bag and its text card (today it says no joke: life has meaning).
I reflect on this word lockdown. Indeed, I feel locked in and long to break free. If I could just go into ‘the wild’ for some time…

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