How many times am I up for sunrise? I can pinpoint exactly how many.
Once, for my dad’s birthday. Once, if I’m very excited, for my birthday. Once, for Mum’s birthday. Once for each of the parent-celebrating days.
See, I’m not a super-early riser. One time I had to get up very early on a school field trip. Being up very early makes my eyes hurt and droop, and I find it difficult to stomach food early on. I have sometimes wondered what it would be like, to do the opposite and pull an all-nighter, watching inky black sky bleed to… what colour is the sky at dawn? Gray? Orange?
Added bonus, it’s winter right now, filtering to spring. Being up in cold mornings is never fun, from the times I had to do so at school. And so when I do get up I think mournfully on the coffee I can’t bear to drink so early and yawn, yawning discreetly into my palm and blinking to stay awake. I’m a night owl, stay up long hours and sleep. Being in the limbo of ended study and looking for work makes this very easy.
One day I’d like to pull an all-nighter and do what Andy Warhol apparently did: have a camera on the windowsill, constantly running, to record the shifts from dark night to soft morning to bold sunlight.