I’ve been staying in the home where I grew up. It is a quiet part of the city near a canal. Today, I discovered a bookshop barge. I suppose it should be expected that things change on the water. They say you can never go home, but I disagree. Old homes are like old wines more delicious with age, but still perhaps not wise to overindulge in.
Sometimes, when you are in foreign place it is the tiniest things that count. I’ve been in Taipei for two days, and of course, I take pictures of all the wrong things. A small flower at the bus stop, cynical cats, an apartment block on a grey day. But these are the things I want to remember the small sweet pleasures. The beauties that I can hold onto.
Flying to Taipei today. I always get a little jittery before travelling. It’s just the way that I am. I’m not even afraid of planes, or crashes, or anything like that. It’s just the smell of a new city, a differently angled moon, strange cola mixes. I don’t know. Anyway, did this little doodle to calm down.