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Something warm waiting for me when I wake up. A small indulgence before the day begins.

A deliberate act of devotion, offered without expectation and impossible to overlook.

One rose, for no reason at all. I think that's reason enough.

For the maintenance behind the illusion: skin, nails, hair, and the occasional indulgence.

There is always another book I want to bring home. This helps the next one find its way to my shelf.

For museums, films, exhibitions, and whatever else gets me out of the house with a camera.

A night off, properly gifted. No obligations, just one evening entirely to myself.