Bouquet #5 - Five days
Hello and may the 4th be with you!
I’m writing from my 5 days quarantine in Padua, Italy. By the time I send this to you, I will hopefully be out and enjoying some fresh air through a face mask. Ahhh.
The reason I travelled back to Italy is that… well, I’m milking it for the next time. You never know when there’s going to be a shortage of interesting things to write about. Anyway, do kids still say “stay tuned”?
Pretty sure they now say “follow for part 2”.
The first thing I noticed at my parents’ was this room fragrance named “Golden Bouquet”. They don’t even know about this newsletter. I keep seeing this word everywhere thanks to yet another cognitive bias - the frequency illusion.
I took many of the photos that I also took last year while in lockdown. For example, the same symbolic mosquito net, only this time with a lot more dust. If this is a metaphor, I’m not sure what it means.
The same window view,
only with a shyer sun.
The common daisy reminds me of the coral reef. Some corals are turning bright neon to survive the warmer waters. The colours acts like a sunscreen, which I do hope you put on daily.
This is a newcomer at the balcony, the ever fragrant rosemary.
I took some self portraits for Mejuri. It had been a long while since I didn’t point the camera at me. In a way I find it easy, not having to direct another person. But mostly it is just frustrating, at least for a good first hour. When you get it right though, you don’t change your profile photo for a couple of months.
See the rest of the photos here.
WHERE LINKS GO:
Kiss the Ground is an optimistic climate documentary on regenerative agriculture. I encourage you to watch it, but don’t blame me if you end up living on a farm.
Subscribe to Noah Kalina’s newsletter. He lives on a “land specifically designed to produce and manufacture high-quality photographs, a highly rated podcast, and world-famous newsletters”. Not a farm.
Find out what are the best flowers to grow for bouquets.
See you next time when I will unravel the great mystery. Until then, you can buy me a coffee (or a spritz, dare I say) and share this newsletter with your friends.