My mind is quite elsewhere.

It's two and a half years in the future whizzing through Russia on a train. Or admiring old cathedrals and art in Europe. Purchasing cute things in Tokyo. Sleeping in a campervan by the beach in Australia & New Zealand. Dancing in the bright colours of Rio. The wind whipping through my hair on Route 66. Kissing my lover in various faraway locations.

However, my mind should be in Anglo Saxon England. Or American in the sixties.

Sometimes my mind just takes a holiday a few weeks in the future to Valentine's Day. Hershey's kisses, pink champagne truffles, "Love, Please" poetry, jewelery, hearts confetti, black & white kisses, cutting & sticking, dressed up dresses, hands in hands, skin on skin, sleepy eyes, sleeping beauty, his dreamy face.

I think I want to make a scrapbook. Of things that are dear to me. & things that are constantly flying through my head. I'd need the perfect blank book. To destroy & prettify.