The sun sets outside the kitchen window, a yolk of light sinking into the horizon. The days are lengthening and I forget I am hungry. The light follows my pattern of the day, rising in the corner of the high arch window of the Dovecot, gently kissing me awake. I rotate, gradually, caressing the day, as the sun dances over the studio walls. Each sheeet of paper has its moment in the spotlight. The sun lowers its gaze and runs its fingertips across my brow when it’s time to retreat home. We are at last finding our rhythm, here, together.