Since my last post on here I've been doing a bit of travelling, and a lot of reading! One book that I think is worth mentioning is Jonny Sun's new book, Goodbye, Again: Essays, Reflections, and Illustrations.
The book's genesis was the result of Sun's own quest to separate himself from the need to create an "end product" according to an interview he did with Shondaland.
In his search for a break from the overwhelming amount of work and rigours of everyday life, he decided to start documenting his daily thoughts, feelings, and reflections about the most mundane pieces of his life.
Short bursts of inspiration, introspection and hopeful observations.
When reading, I couldn't help but take pause, set the book down, and think more about all that was around me. Taking time to think about, notice and appreciate the simple complexities.
Sun's style of writing hit home for me. His ability to convey comfort, familiarity and calmness is a skill, and one that I hope to one day emulate.
With this in mind, I too want to be a little more open and talk about the mundane everyday. Open thoughts, worries, questions and observations that I have. These pieces will probably be short, personal, almost cathartic, diary entries. A little bit of an insight into what makes my brain tick.
In summer I love sitting on our balcony. There's something therapeutic about having your morning coffee outside, feeling the sun's gentle touch on your skin. Even better when it's five or six, and there's that gentle stillness as the world wakes up.
Sitting on the balcony, I'll often be distracted by the planes and their contrails — which I've come to learn are actually just ice crystals.
I can usually see two or three planes at once, depending on the time of day and the clarity of the sky. And before I know it I've subconsciously opened Flight Radar. Trying to guess where the planes have come from, and where they're going to.
Then strangely enough, if it's from some far flung place, I'll actually imagine myself on the plane. Getting up for a stretch, or perhaps mid-way through a meal. Or maybe I'm peering out the window down at the ground below.
Then I think about the strange connection that I might have made with someone on that plane. Perhaps someone was glancing down as I was looking up. I wonder how many others on the ground are looking up at that plane, it can't be that many? Sort of a strange unspoken unknown connection.
Every Sunday I send out a newsletter. My aim is to inspire you, make you smile and leave you having learned something.