clandestine columnists

we’ve suddenly descended into the sunday twilight blues – and yet wanted to remind ourselves of all that is beautiful to pierce melancholy’s sad slumber with the anecdote of connection and smiles-across-the-interweb.

our friends – new and longtime – real and virtual (including those we only know as personas who, if we imagine they are anything like us, might be more real as their covert self than who they have to steel themselves to be in Real Life) – are much needed and much loved.

Just saying.

Saying what?

Thank you.

That’s it.

Thank you.

we met a fellow clandestine columnist today and it felt Utterly Delicious to talk about our secret selves and who we are meant to be Out There and who we Desire to be Next.

whenever Next is.

feeling a bit sad about immigration and it really isn’t being ameliorated by the use of sugar #sigh

but we Were in the Swimming pool as soon as it opened today so (as the supermarket brand in england says) Every Little Helps.

plus the blue-blue water soothes our soul.

and we have a restless uneasy soul for so many reasons.

but then we come across street art like this and we stop In Our Tracks to imagine the wistful story behind it and that makes us smile again

the east village helps once more.

as did the Clandestine Columnist.

and the beautiful people on Instagram.

what do you do when you get the sunday-twilight-blues, darlings?

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