By Elin Jarlsrtom
We’re meant to write scabs to look back and reflect.
On things we learn or the dots we collect.
This week, you brought me back to France.
We got pretty decent tickets as we booked in advance.
You introduced me to your grandma, grandpa and cat.
We scamped on your lawn and wore every colourful hat.
You pushed me to speak french, something I used to love.
Although my vocabulary is one of the things I fall sort of.
You showed me how your cat sticks his tongue under the sink.
I guess that’s better than mine who used the toilet to drink.
I called your cat Sebastian, but that wasn’t quite right.
In fact it was your sisters new boyfriend, since only a fortnight.
On Friday we went to Pompidou and worked on Natwest.
I think that’s when we started to feel a little bit stressed.
But as the day progressed and Paris became dark,
we decided to take a moment and stop thinking about Marc.
We watched Dirty dancing in French and ate baguette with blue cheese.
And we realised that our best work comes when we feel at ease.
I guess what I want to say with this reflection is this.
Fiona Tabastot, you are the partner I’ve always missed.
We have moments of doubt when ideas get stuck.
But then we have a laugh and decide to take a minute and not give a fuck.
We think about cats in space or places we want to go.
And all the sudden, we’re back in the flow.
We haven’t yet set up a twitter handle to become official.
But we’re making our logo with two ladies initials.
So this is for you, my friend and partner in crime.
I’ll see you tomorrow 6am, ready for scamping time.