Shambolic and delirious (but with lucid intervals)

As I came too this morning I found myself alone, in my empty (due to previous chapter of voluntary homelessness) student room with my big black bag, tangled hair and a bar of soap. No coffee – impending disaster. To escape the void I swiftly made my way down to Skeppsholmen and my beloved, dearly missed studio, where I made an effort to take the edge off my caffeine withdrawal, hugged my computer and logged on. Inbox Horreur. Before I attempt any explanations, my thoughts need to be gathered beyond that elusive minimum of coherency as I waddle through the e-mails of december and surprisingly mild winter conditions of Stockholm… Yet at the bottom of the glass I find one echoing thought: Conquering the desert (metaphysical or otherwise) without you is alot harder than I expected.

Bisous.

(photograph snapped by Anne-Laure Kénol)