Oh look, another day over. And the 100 days of this diary are going past at wonderous speeds.
A morning of intense work at Corinthia, an afternoon of packing artefacts and picking up signs for the Biennale exhibition. Perhaps they make up one ‘normal’ ish day together through the diversity of tasks there. What is a normal day really?
This evening I found myself at Bahrija for sunset after I gave up on working beyond 5 ish. I went there on an errand but was so amazingly grateful to be there among the birds, bees and the occasional no entry sign.
It all feels like a completely different universe to the one I left behind this same afternoon. Question is though, which of the two is real?