It was a good week. Oddly humbling and introspective.
Colour adjustments courtesy of my flatmate.
Incredibly relaxing. Every other art I attempt will sooner or later compel me to obsess over technique and minute details above everything else, often beyond the point of inconsequential nonsense. Painting? There's just something about it that puts me on power conserving mode.
My brother sent me an unexpected text about being in Warsaw for a few days, asking if I want to hang out. That alone would make my week. I didn't see him in almost a year and we both been busy to a point where communication was painfully infrequent. He's been back on his feet less than a month after the operation, overactive as ever, recently got promoted at work and gave me a head's up about the wedding. Middle of August. Doesn't really like his new line of work very much, but opted to do it for one more year. Save some money, build leverage, get back to applying for R&D positions. Maybe even return to academia, I don't think he left it mentally anyway.
I miss him. We've been talking a mile a minute for almost sixteen hours straight, effectively mending a ten-month gap in our lives within the first three and jumping between topics while playing board games for most of the rest. Apart from being a great way to spend time regardless of company, with him it was very liberating and familiar. When it's just the two of us, among other things, I don't have to consciously make my speech slower, or avoid shorthand in fear of being seen as anything from obnoxious to smartass (not that it helps). Getting him to the airport was hard.
Cardiological check-up put me at ease. Meds received another dose reduction, and one was substituted with something which shouldn't produce so many side-effects. My overall results are a lot better when compared to the ones from March. It still somewhat bothers me that I can't train as much as I was accustomed to, but it seems to be for the better. I'll take being weaker over unhealthy any day.
The guy I mentioned last week, the one who accidentally shot the top stopper of a separatory funnel at me, came to me and apologised. I, in turn, admitted to overreacting, and we got to a common ground. He's an OK guy. In terms of raw theory, he should be schooling me, not the other way around. It just doesn't seem to carry well from paper to bench.
All of it made me recall my first time driving after getting my licence. Theoretical, closed course and open road tests all passed with flying colours, yet when push came to shove, I almost crashed into a lamp post. Guess it's one of those grounding memories I should be revisiting more often.
There's a big tournament coming up in January, and I'm in! It could be the one where I'll finally get my 1st category, so prepare yourselves for even more boring, poorly explained, crap broadcasted from my corner.
Red Mars (and likely the rest of Mars Trilogy) by Kim Stanley Robinson, because I couldn't remember if I ever finished it or not.
Meditations by Marcus Aurelius, for similar reasons.
Durant is still a thing.