I suddenly felt really weak and uncreative, and I knew the only thing that could safe me would be a pen and white paper. It feels so different to write with your hand than to type. Writing is more of a physical process than I thought. The internet can give ideas but it is so clinical and unorganic.
This explains my long break from blogging, and I guess after I told you 'bout those thoughts, I will have another break from it.
The return to the organic, to nature, to creating things with my bare hands, to sleep under the sky listening to circades rather than artificial beats, that is what I crave. To wake up and not checking the time, to dream and draw, to pick flowers and to swim in the sea.
Just a few days ago I watched "Into the Wild". It is such a touching film, based on a true story. At times i felt like shouting out "That's it! This is exactly what one should do. Just live."
