An Ode to Short Trips and Throw Pillows


Welcome to the set, it’s yours. Paint it, frame it, set fire to it, practise your scales, paint your nails, and scream the lyrics to Billie Jean. Things will break, and you’ll make mistakes, but it doesn’t matter this is your set. Yours to shape, reconfigure and create. A place where your ideas will take a million forms. Your mind rests here, for thousands of hours and millions of minutes, while your bones ache from failed yoga attempts.

Welcome to my room. It’s had a colourful past that’s for certain, but there’s only so much you can do in one place. This is a feeling that even new throw pillows can’t solve. A few weeks ago I had to flee. 700KMs, no less. To a nebulous of music, smoke and foul beer. Here, a miraculous recovery was made, where my invisible sims bar turned green after being in the red zone for so long.

Small parts of you get lost when confined to four walls, surrounded by the same faces. While new is not always better, it is definitely necessary.


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