Lately, I’ve been hitting refresh, refresh, refresh on my motivation. I’m steadily getting back on track. I figured writing more than I did back in May, might get me to focus better. Though I am looking forward to sharing a lot more random ramblings.
Due to the unpleasant weather that doesn’t belong to June, my walks along the canal have been put on hold until further notice. Everything’s dependent on the appearance of the sun. My limbs are missing the gym, the gradual muscle toning, the game-changing endorphins and the inner therapy sessions the treadmill would offer. There’s nothing like walking off my worries. Here’s to hoping the weather does a swift u-turn, so I can get back to ambling alongside the canal.
Talking of walks, I made a short trip to my local outdoor market. Not quite the same as strolls by the canal, but it is the heart of a cultural community, so it will do. Upon reaching the market all my senses were welcomed by the classical market experience. The very few stalls that were bartering, were positioned like a single, stretched zigzag. No longer opposite each other in double rows. This gave browsers more room to roam around through the widened gaps. The air smelt sweet from freshly picked crops, uniformly laid out in colourful rows. I could hear the shouts of stallholders selling fruits for a pound a bowl. Clatter, clinks and clanks came from various directions as shoppers enjoyed browsing through sundry commodities. My eyes wandered over diverse booths, tracing the colourful shapes and sizes of every visible stock. I appreciated seeing the familiar sight again after two long months.
I walked away from the market square. Bearing with me my fresh purchases. Bags full of juicing ingredients, pink lady apples and nutritious carrots. The banter between marketers and customers became faint with the growing distance.
I left with old but new experiences.
Blame It On Art 