Finished.

At around 4pm, I strummed the last stroke of glistening gloss paint aboard the 16th mural and drew a line under the project-magnificent that has been. The initial buzz of finally finishing was short lived as the realisation that my painting-in-the-park stretch had now come to a close. It was only natural that we'd celebrate by playing some tennis; the day is burning, so let's go run about between the twinklings leaves. This is Dan at Fletcher Moss; we've just finished playing, we need some cold pop. The prospect of having some free time sinks in, so I eagerly pedal to meet Kat at Sandbar. We sip ice cold drinks beneath the dusk of the warm evening and eagerly exchange stories. I gaze around the city steadily turning into night and relish in the buzz that surrounds; there is energy everywhere and it is suited to whatever takes your desire. Another gleaming, half intoxicated ride home in a T-shirt, smiling at the world, takes me several miles away and back to the cozy confines of our funny little home that rocks like a boat.