Red

I seem to have accidentally gathered a lot of red around myself. What does it mean? It's probably because I'm so passionate and love to shovel raspberries into my mouth all day long. Another accidental thing that I strongly enjoy, by the way, is when I type the word moth instead of mouth. That's good. Most sentences are better that way. All hail the moths (I hope you are absorbing this pro-moth propaganda from me, mothcub).

Really though, what is it about the colour red? It does feel powerful and important. Red makes me think of blood, and berries, and Captain Sensible's beret. You know, just integral life things.

My mum found some strawberries recently, reduced to 10p a punnet. We ate a lot of strawberries. It was the best. I am hoping for many more drastically reduced fruits in my life.

I think painting feels different depending on colour. Painting with red feels important and wild, planetary somehow, but simultaneously soft.

It's probably a good piece of trivia, the fact that I sleep on lines of red, scribbly hearts. If I had a Wikipedia page that would be the second piece of information, after the bit that tells you I like salmon and cream cheese bagels. Only the most important details. None of that useless birth and history info, just my sandwich and bagel preferences.

I want to build a cosy red castle and fill it with berries.