I’ve noticed, over the years, that winter is not a productive time for my blog. Last winter, it was effectively buried under hospital visits, Thing1’s blood tests and my tears. This winter I’ve been buried under a project I’ll be able to describe in more detail later, and the burying has helped me see winter as something every bit as valuable as the spring months that usher in seasons of intensifying creative output because in that beautiful darkness, I don’t hibernate, I germinate.
Picking My Battles 
This painting whispers of hope at the edge of the season’s transition. The hint of blush in the sky. wispy stalks reaching out of the snow. Its beautiful.
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