"I travelled home backwards through Los Angeles, stopping for a few days at Venice Beach, which is close to the airport. I sat on the rocks and stared at the sea, listening to crisscrossing music, discordant reggae with its revolutionary sense of harmonics drifting from various boom boxes. I ate fish tacos and drank coffee at the Cafe Collage, a block west from the Venice boardwalk. I never bother to change my clothes. I rolled up my pant legs and walked in the water. It was cold but the salt felt good on my skin. I couldn't bring myself to open my suitcase or computer. I lived out of a black cotton sack. I slept to the sound of the waves and spent a lot of time reading discarded newspapers."Patti Smith (M Train) on returning from Japan.
Closest I've ever come to this is going to bed with my clothes on.
More signs of spring: tiny alpine cyclamen at Wisley. They look hopeful. The anticipation of spring is almost as exciting as spring itself.
