For the first time in like forever I woke up didn’t have coffee and lay down on the couch to perhaps fall back to sleep. The tall lady was like what? She was totes surprised. As I was because I usually wake and shake and start writing my blague. So here it is nearly eleven a.m. in Paris and I’m just taking a look at what the oracle is today: In The Heat Of The Noon Hour A Man Takes A Siesta. This 14° Libra symbol surely is spot on—I feel like I’m becoming one with these images. Today’s would be ruled by Taurus in a twelve-fold sequence and we know how languid people of that sign can be so it’s all lining up.

The point is that we cannot sustain constant activity, emotionally or culturall. There must be breaks. I don’t withdraw into my own sphere of selfhood enough, probably. And I have of late been burning the candle at both ends, giddy to be in the city of light and delighting my senses. Even though Paris beckons I must rest today before being absorbed into the delicious swirl. My batteries need recharging, yes, but also my imagination needs something of a reset. I have a bunch of creative projects coming up and I need to be rested to allow them to bubble up. As it is I’ve just come off producing a festival which was exhausting and I moved house which was/is always traumatizing and then we came on this big trip. Boom, boom, boom. And it’s been superfun, but super fatiguing. Both body and psyche need a time out to catch up. And to be rid of toxins i.e. certain people, places and things.

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