friday
swam. finally. carcavelos at 7:40, water still cold enough to delete every thought in my head for a clean thirty seconds, which is the closest my brain gets to a factory reset. came out and could see again.
7:41am. the only meeting i kept all week.
Théo did the pastel de nata run while i dried off and we sat on the sea wall not talking, and it was the good kind of not talking. he asked how the interior of the lighthouse should feel and i said "like Halina's kitchen but colder" and he just nodded and started sketching. Théo does this thing where he takes my worst-articulated feeling and hands it back as a picture. see Palette & Mood.
the sea, incidentally, does not care that i swam in it. it will rise regardless. i find this enormously comforting and i cannot explain why to normal people. The sea rises regardless.
- call mama
- swim (LOOK AT ME)
- ask Théo for the lighthouse interior pass