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Sunday 2 December 2018

Walked a slightly longer journey this morning. Lamp light glistening on paving stones, a Robin flies over and lands nearby, later a Blackbird similarly. I walk down Abbey Road with the sounds of The Who, Roger Daltry singing Won't Be Fooled Again. I walk up Circus Road, a Pret cafe is just opening, smells of baking permeate the crisp dark mild morning air.

I've had a cold hanging around me for a few days, felt a bit wiped-out yesterday morning, I found it difficult to translate my thoughts into sentences. Jude has had a rough week, two dizzy spells earlier in the week and flu over the last three days has stopped her doing anything.

Yeh, sold the computer. Mainly using this iPhone for just about everything digital, and I occasional use the five year old MacBook 11" for some bits and pieces. And I'm still letting go of stuff to the charity shops.

My notebook writings over the last months are a lot to do with letting go, gently, belonging, possession, arranging and re-arranging thinking, and movement, embodied thinking, and something to do with awareness and thought. And of course, our decay, the mulch, my landscape of consciousness and this ground, the dark rich soil, the earth.

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