Each morning, all of three, I've rolled a little later from the warmth of scantily covered the twin. Admittedly the thrum of drizzle on the roof's top is lulling and most artists clearly do not ramble out this early based on the unpeopled streets and studios. I mean it is 5 am. But hey this isn't art camp, this is a key transitional space in which to develop a new routine for myself.
The plan. Up with the sun, which happens to be about 5, develop a write/walk regimen, communal meals, studio, read, studio, write, listen, be present with whom ever I am with even when only with myself, then return to down with the dark and a reflopping back and slithering to be undercover each eve.
Tube on! Move Kathy.