Last night I didn't go to church. I very rarely skip church and I didn't even have a very good excuse, but it worked for me. I spent the entire last weekend away with wild st including church after, and this Saturday I spent all day in the church hall painting banners. On Sunday I was incredibly stiff from the painting, went to the cathedral, and in the afternoon relaxed by reading and painting and cutting holes in the front of old books. When time came to go to church I made excuses to myself about being stiff, tired, and churched out, but the truth was I wasn't that tired or people-weary. I was in a pretty happy state of mind for a Sunday night. I even regretted not being at church a little bit. But I did figure out my need to stay home: I had a nice quiet evening home alone pottering and thinking, and I realised that that was actually all I wanted. Some quiet in my own head. A break from listening to things and saying things and getting to know people and going to and fro on the earth.
I really sadly forgot my camera today so I will post the efforts of my book mutilation tomorrow. It's pretty exciting. I think I need a drill.
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