Distant Sun…
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Distant Sun…

After a holiday…as we are carefully placed by the airline like the penultimate jigsaw piece in a puzzle and slipped into our usual existence, should we view it as such? The dream is over. The grind begins?

Exploring the colloquialisms of human behaviour and instinctively feeling that something has to end as something begins, is relevant but not key. Why not see ‘the trip’ as a continuous part of our existence? Another space where we take our art, ourself. Is this far more inspired? Certainly less of the ‘coming back down with a bump’?

Therefore, until the next time, the sun maybe hidden, or further away, but we are right where we are and there we will always be.

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