I loved my old studio: a golden little attic room, with slanty ceilings, creaky floors, and stuffed to the rafters with shiny nonsense like the inside of Howl’s Moving Castle. But it’s view was ‘a wall’. A yellowish, cracked wall, with bits of dead weed straggling from it, and on very exciting days possibly a glimpse of pigeon.

My new studio is in an attic again (I seem to gravitate towards them like a petulant bat), but as though to make up for several years staring at ‘a wall’ this one has a view of (what feels like) the whole of northern Portugal. I am ridiculously in love with it. :3 I can see the weather we’ll get half an hour before it actually gets here.