I was just thinking about how much I love my little owl and how its lavender smell makes me feel really cosy and calm and I looked across at my bedsheets and saw the light and shadows running through the creases in the fabric and I decided to take some shots of some of these lovely little textural details. That was quite a run-on sentence. I hope you don't come here for perfect grammar decisions.
Still and always, whenever I feel down or grumpy one of the things that helps the most is noticing the physicality of things. The shape and feel of fabrics is like a kind of magic. Fuzzy soft stuff makes everything good.
One of my favourite parts of the owl is its little feet. I like to squeeze 'em.
It's nice just to look around and notice how the light dances and fills up space. I notice it a lot, but it never loses its lustre. Owell (that's the owl's name - sort of like Orwell, sort of like owl, pronounced like Dan Howell without the Dan and the H) and I are adventurers in a large and mysterious land inside a duvet cover. Or I just need to take a nap again.
Either way, I feel nice. Like my blood is made of glitter. Cool.