Sunday, November 23, 2008
temperature
The cold is biting down on NYC and snorting through its bitter teeth. Even the traffic sounds have a brittle edge to them. Inside I have the space heater roaring away--one tries not to think about Con Ed. I'm working on a new painting and listening to music. The opposites come together and balance me happily in the middle. There is enough food in the kitchen, enough paint to make many more paintings than just this one, books that I haven't read yet, and a list of painting ideas on the wall that is only half finished. I love to make new lists where I keep the ones not attempted and add as many as my mind can concoct--its a sheer abundance of possibilities: Ali Baba's cave in code.
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I love the winter. Of course I've never had to huddle in the cold without adequate clothing and shelter.
There's something about the season that I really like. It's neat to be able to hike the mountains in winter, moving through the leafless cathedral of trees.
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