CRUNCHING INTENSITY

I made it home, in case you were wondering. The afternoon faded into wisps of purple cloud and eventually the sun sank, bright and gold beneath the hills as I drove down the A34.

After a weekend of crunching intensity, I put on some John Mayer to interrupt the satnav - smooth, predictable bass and light guitaring with naturally harmonic vocals and some Hammond organ. Interesting songs that are fun and deep and all about love filled my car.

We watched some movies today and as ever, they've really affected me. I have to pick films carefully to avoid getting emotionally ambushed. I have no idea why Hollywood still has such a simple view of how love works.

I'm not going to go into all of that; I'm really not qualified for it.

Anyhow, despite a fun weekend with my friends. it's great to be back and to be ready to face another week of writing, singing, moaning and reflecting. It's a busy one, this. 

I ran a deep hot bath tonight and sank into it by candlelight. Allegri's Miserere came on my playlist, which made the whole thing feel like a papal funeral.

... not that I'd run a bath in the middle of a papal funeral.

The journey melted, the tightness in my muscles disappeared. There is a place for crunching intensity, I thought to myself, but I am glad to be home.