Note to self: there’s nothing more valuable than listening to all the voices in your mind, than listening to all the voices of the other minds, attending to every new day through deciphering the rhythms of the mango leaves in the garden, dancing frantically in the wind, accidentally crazy, purposefully shocking the squirrels on their peanut-traced itineraries. At those moments everything becomes uncomplicated again; every barely tangible element in the moment transforms into a light and endless building block. And I guess it is the summer, and this endless warmth, and these moments full of time that no other season renders. Maybe it is important just to find a small travel in every day, a tiny new dance on every pavement, a new way to come home for 100 days in a row, a new way to make your story elements come together. It is never about inventing new stories, is it? It is all about how to put them together in a new way, and letting the chance in. This is also the essence of travelling – putting your own world together in a new way, every time you go far without any expectations, into the world of unknown pavements with that box of neon crayons.