Morning. In the studio in the garden (just a slightly fancy shed, really). I type yesterday’s note then sit, half-lotus on a chair. The sound of weather – not overhead, but in the near-distance. My mind turns to the morning’s work, but I am brought back to the present by the footsteps and flappery of a pigeon pacing on the roof. As the pigeon rests, I return to the silence, grateful.
Discipline: 6 or 7 out of 10.