Dearest Clare,
As I write this, I am sitting at my desk in the back bedroom looking out at your studio across the backyard full of blue evening snow, everything is slick and crusty with ice, and it is very still. It's one of those winter evenings when the coldness of every single thing seems to slow down time, like the narrow centre of an hourglass
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Clicked recent entries thinking there would be more RECENT entries.
Apparently not. Haha. Actually I have nothing else to say haha. Off to school now
ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=┌(; ̄◇ ̄)┘
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