Easter

This Easter, I’ve felt at odds with the passing of time. It often frustrates me, the things we need to do again and again. The relentlessness of the everyday. How I can feel so pleased with myself, when I’ve managed to eat breakfast, or washed the dishes, or showered, or gone to sleep – only to have to do it again the next day.

Mostly, it’s OK. I’m an adult, I’ve gotten used to it. But sometimes, itching. This Easter, I’ve felt like a child, wanting to stomp my feet and scream at it all.

When, what I really want to do, is to marvel at the extra ordinariness. Stop, lose time. For example in the shades of this plant dyed heddle weave.