I owe you an apology.
This letter has arrived five days late. Much like my sanity.
Somewhere between writing and taking mountains of photographs I 'forgot' about you. I say 'forgot', but I'm trying to insinuate that a great wave of guilt washed over me and I couldn't face you - that, and I've been napping a lot recently.
Despite my lateness (and audacity) I hope you'll be kind. I hope you'll be gentle and not bring as many emotional expenses as your brother before.
Please allow me to travel softly, love with all my might and keep creativity running through my veins.
Sorry, August. I'll be better next year.