Dawn jazz, sea glass, and slow lessons

Woke before dawn, toes dug into cold Brighton sand while humming a crooked version of "Bye Bye Blackbird" until the gulls judged me politely. Brewed proper kettle-tea, cupped a piece of sea-glass against my wrist to remind myself how cool things feel when given time.

Gave a two-hour workshop on backdoor pleasure that read like gentle cartography — maps, patience, and more laughs than anyone expected. There’s a particular kind of warmth in teaching people to be beginners again; bring curiosity, bring biscuits, and leave performance at the door.