Hello there 22nd May.

 

We were asked to send a provocation. This is not that.  It’s probably more of an invitation really.

 

Its 10.29 am. Outside the window are grey slate tiles, a sharp blue crane, clouds with rain promise. There’s no relief other than a small circle of blue that I am watching mutate to the shape of a finger. Now not.

 

I am going to go to the window to blow on the glass. Back now. I blew and drew the shape of the crane outside. I watch the patch of condensed breath disappear.

 

Invitation:

To blow on the glass of the bus, to make a mark with your hand, to watch it disappear. To acknowledge the time and the thought

This provokes  for me thoughts about the inner heat of the body, how it might leave marks real or otherwise. Not so much a binary between inside and outside weather systems be they actual or metaphorical;  more of an unseen  continuum.

I am sure I will be thinking about something else on the 22nd May. I hope to see you in the bar for a drink later tonight, your today’s night.