Honestly I feel like every other day I’m putting on Instagram I’m ill agaaaain. So I didn’t today, though I am. I saved that nugget for here – lucky you!
Speaking of Instagram, I just want to say how much I love it. As much as I loathe Facebook (update: I just realised how that sentence might read to my followers on Facebook. Not you, dahlings, I love you, it’s the actual ‘Book itself) I’ve been on it a year or so, and I’ve virtually met some really nice people. I feel that it’s actually broadened my horizons. Either that’s true, or I’m a saddo who needs to get out more.
Where else (other than a back packing holiday, which I’m too old and achy for now, I need actual facilities including an actual bed and actual wifi) would I get to meet folks in Germany, USA, Australia, and just down the road here in Somerset? I love that Instagram, more than other social media I’ve used, allows for blossoming connections that make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
Plus, I love earth porn – I follow a lot of adventurers who sleep in tents on the side of a mountain in Canada or Peru and I am blown away by the beauty of this planet. Getting that in my feed every day doesn’t diminish it at all. Then I have a bunch of interior styling type folk that I follow – I do love a beautiful home to aspire to. Then, my main
people who I stalk arty farty types, all the fabulous artists and creatives dotted about the globe all doing their thing, their creativity ebbing and flowing, just like mine, and giving one another a wave of their cheer leading pom poms when it’s needed.
Yesterday I had plenty of cheer leading after posting this painting – if you want to know what I was whinging about to prompt the pom poms you’d better
stalk check me out on Insta.