It’s been so long a time. But finally, I am here, back to square one. Eyes swollen from lack of sleep, neck hurt from craining over paintings, heart broken and stomach hurt. But happy. Not the kind of happiness that makes you feel exhilarated on cloud nine, but the gentler, quieter kind because it’s meaningful, because you’re living a life that makes sense, not on a grander scale of the world or the universe, but within the extraordinary daily life. It’s April, it’s sunny and beautiful outside. The sky has changed into its best mood. Clouds threads thinly like those of late summer, but fresher and more freely. My neighbours take turn to play music. Sometimes, someone from the appartment below plays the piano and it was marvelous. In the middle of the afternoon, tunes of jazz smooth like velvet in the mellow light.