People often ask me, "Don't you get bored? Don't you get lonely?" I just smile. How can I explain that loneliness and boredom are from completely different universes? My solitude is the richest, most vibrant city imaginable. It's full of ideas, images, and quiet discoveries.
Like right now, for instance. I'm walking through my city, but it feels like I'm on a different planet. The evening version, washed in the orange glow of streetlights. In my headphones a random album by some Norwegian band I dug up this morning. It sounds like the soundtrack to flying over fjords. I don't have a destination. My rule is simple: turn onto the street where the light looks more intriguing or where a mysterious sign peeks out from around a corner.
Walking alone is the best way to truly talk to the city and to yourself. No one hurries you, no one tugs your hand saying, "Come on, let's go see that." You can stop for half an hour in front of a second-hand bookshop, studying the spines of old books and inventing the stories hidden behind them. You can buy a bright green matcha latte from a street stall instead of your usual cappuccino and sit on a bench, feeling like an explorer of new flavors.
In my old, worn leather bag, I always carry my main companion my sketchbook. It's not for perfect pictures. It's for moments. Like now, I've perched on a low wall by the bridge. I pull out a pencil and quickly, hastily sketch the silhouette of a pigeon against a billboard. It looked so important, so focused on its pigeon work, that I had to immortalize it.
I love trying new things. It's like discovering a tiny door inside yourself every day, leading to an unknown room. Last week, it was a pottery class. My hands still remember the cold, yielding clay and that magical moment when a shapeless lump began to turn into a vase. Imperfect, a little lopsided, but mine. Yesterday, I bought a packet of tea from an ethnic store that smelled of smoke and orange peel. It smelled like autumn in a fairytale forest. I haven't brewed it yet; I'm saving it for the right mood.
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