I'm finally at a stage, for now, when I'm at a bit of a loose end, work wise. It feels great, for now. One of the jobs will come back at some point, I'm sure but I can finally relax a little bit. Heavenly.
My arm and hand are hurting from so much 'painting' with my wacom over the past few weeks.
But, I really shouldn't moan. I've just been reading about a Swiss woman who gave up her rich life to open an Aids clinic in the Ivory Coast to help the sufferers die with dignity and in peace. They are treated as outcasts in the Ivory Coast. She fished someones 30 kilo frame out of a dustbin where it was covered with worms and red ants coming out of his ears and mouth, barely alive, and took him to her clinic where he died 8 days later in a clean bed, in clean clothes, holding her hand. He said at one point 'why are you doing this? you saved me from hell' to which she replied 'because I love you'. I had tears in my eyes when I read that chapter in 'the place at the end of the world' book. The whole book is filled with tragedy, but what a fucking brave woman who goes everywhere in the world to report on suffering that isn't always seen. I feel like writing her a letter just to say 'thanks for writing the books'.
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