19JUL
The corridor was empty except for the racks and the hum of equipment. I sat on a folding chair with my sketchbook and just drew the light — how it fell across the cables, the shadow of a hanger. It's these in-between moments I keep returning to, when nothing is required of me except to watch. The flash went off somewhere down the hall and I looked up, caught, not performing, just existing. That's the whole diary right there.
Mood: contemplative