SUNDAY / 19

 I woke up in Sweden to a grey Sunday, though the afternoon was sunny. The light here in the north is confusing me, already just finding my way through jet lag and a week of running about in London. I've read that the circadian rhythms of our body are naturally aligned with the moon, just like the sea. I woke at 2 or 3, with the sun, as easy as if it were 7 and had to make myself go back to sleep.  Only a couple of days here in Sweden so I headed out to the Moderna Museet, by the harbour. An interesting enough collection, and always a nice way to pass an hour or two. Galleries are how I familiarise myself with a new city or country, usually the first thing on my list to do. The picture is from a nice reading table they had in between the Ernest Cole exhibition 'House of Bondage', which poignantly documented the lives of black South Africans during Apartheid. An afternoon wandering in Södermalm, a wine and an early dinner at a local bar and then the train home was about all I managed after that. 

YEAR TWO. 

YEAR ONE.