I know that moving is high on the scale of stress and so is the death of parents and pets and friends, all of which has been part of my life since August last year. But I am longing for a little sanity. I miss my creative juices when relentless stress depletes my energy. I want to see a carving by the side of the road and make a lion roar with my camera. It will come in time, I know. I tell my people that every day, but maybe sometimes I also want to roar like a lion with frustration and just get away with it. Trouble is that I am likely to do it with a few quiet words and in writing, and so internally it ends up as a little whimper. What can I say? Be brave my soul, I need you for a little longer.