Rolling the die

I am looking at two large white lilies, still fresh on the bibliotek table. I have just cleaned the kitchen, washing many small glasses of Italian coffee. Emanuella made me lunch with brie cheese, and showed me pictures of Dawid, her garden, her room, her escutare, her friends. It made me wish I had pictures to share. Francesca just printed two research papers for me to read. Small treasures from the mountain to be archived.

It is silent at the theatre today. A Danish holiday celebrating Denmark's return to sovereignty, after being ruled by Germany for 5 years. Last night in town all the stores were open late, a band was playing, you could fish for wriggling wind-up plastic fish in a blue blow-up water-pool outside the toy store, and crowds were eating ice cream and thronging. At the bookstore, they had a small die in a leather cup. You rolled the die to see how much percent off your purchase you got -- 10% up to 60%. You could roll per item, or once per the whole set. I got 30% off everything.

Lili and I were relieved to return from town. It is like coming home to the monastery, to return here. Silent, sweet, carved powerfully deep by the intention, attention, and work.

Work is the core.

I can't start thinking, I must pack.