raincoats for penguins

Ankle socks on.

Laces double knotted.

Earbuds in.

Press ‘play’.

Skip the advert before the podcast.

Time to walk the baby.

Looking back, this was a beautiful moment.

Of course I didn’t know it was at the time.

I don’t really enjoy the process of ‘going for a walk’. I do enjoy the process of creating a physical space that will allow all my senses to be inspired at a comfortable pace, so I guess I like… walking.

My natural disposition is to go through my day with an almost obsessive undercurrent of visual collection. I take a lot of photos, screenshots and Pinterest pins. I usually have a few random objects in my pocket/bag at the end of the day.

It’s important to me to understand, to know why they seemed so meaningful to me in that moment. And I’ve always needed a quiet space to do that.

My dad did this so I guess it’s learnt behaviour.

My dad spent part of his childhood in a misplaced persons concentration camp in Germany after World War II.

I imagine him walking in a designated space, finding small objects that had irrational importance to him because he was a… sensitive child.

I imagine he found a sense of peace, a moment of ‘calm’ when he secretly re-discovered the treasure at the bottom of his pocket.

He more than likely did it at night, when everyone was asleep, where no one could judge, attack, hurt or burn.