Nothing is as good as the real thing

Been in the studio a lot recently , getting it upgraded to a slightly more functioning interesting artists hideaway. ( so now the electric doesnt work in half of it!) But it will get done and when its finshed it will look gorgeous, and most things will be as they should be.

But it means I have not been out or even up town for ages .I have been inside, painting decorating and on the internet. So when I went in the cafe today I was asked if I had been away as they hadn't seen me for a while. In the bank I heard someone referring to me as the signora inglesi. I waved to the man in the shop where I get gas, and who' s wife sold me the lovely bedcover on my wall. The man from the commune who is always really helpful, said, hello, and I have come back feeling all warm and cosy. I read somewhere that real life contact actually creates something in you that improves your health, and it needs to be face to face. Maybe...

Then earlier I was outside taking photos of my street and the view (again) and I realised that I can not take a photo that shows what I see. And I can take decent photos ,but it does not compare with actually being there and feeling as well as seeing it.

Tonight I am planning to go to a yoga class in Bernalda and I am looking forward to spending time with people. And I hope to get a little less creaky as well. I have tried to use a dvd on my own but I always give up.

Then last , but importantly, I got dressed up to go out and threw the old baggy clothes that I wear in the studio , cause I get painty and no one sees me anyways, in the wardrobe ( both doors open now, another thing that is fixed) and shot off on my scooter feeling at least ten years younger and looking about 2 kilos lighter without my normal 6 layers.

So hurray for real life, cause I need it to write"My life as a story".