Detached

In all honesty, I feel indifferent to the Flagstaff Garden, let alone Melbourne.

No amount of sketches or photography can change what I felt that day. I was moving my pen for the sake of putting lines on paper.

On reflection, the garden is a ‘place’ but one where I have little connection.

Here I ask myself:

What exactly does ‘place’ mean to me?

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Impermanence