I wanted to get my memories on (virtual) paper before the magic rubs off, so this is coming to you from Rome Airport and is sponsored by coffee. I am so tired. Soul-tired. After five magic days of playful juicy-assed fun, and true deep connection, all I want is a bear hug from Mr P, a bubble bath and my bed.
When I told my work peeps that I was off to Italy for a few days of painting, I was mostly met with a raised eye-brow and a look that said ‘you don’t seem like the ‘watercolours in Tuscany’ type’. And because I had no real idea what to expect (and I was a bit nervous) I didn’t really say much more. Now I know I will struggle to explain the phenomenon that is Squam.
How do I put into words that I spent three days outside with my feet in the grass and my hands in acrylic colours so rich and juicy, I wanted to eat them? That I found beautiful new friends from across the planet, all awake and searching for deep connection. For a place to be fully themselves. That I sat up to the wee small hours reconnecting deeply via belly laughs and tears, with my sisters in room three. That all of this was infused by a daily fix of gelato, green olive oil drizzled over everything, and several wood-fired pizzas the size of a small car. That we lazed by the pool, got lost on Italian roads and hiked to a thousand year old monastery at sunset, through olive groves and grape vines. It really was stupidly beautiful.
Sitting in this crazy airport, surrounded by all of this ‘real life’, the last few days are beginning to feel like a beautiful dream that is fading.
Charlie’s Angels shot by Sus