|Winter's Last Breath|
I do know that amazing things are happening during this period that feels so heavy and bleak. I know it, intellectually. While the trees seem to be dead, I know that tree roots are active under the surface- continuing to draw water and nutrients from the soil below, and even growing if conditions are favorable. And bugs, birds and other critters all have their winter stories too.
I think my art has winter periods. There are sometimes long stretches of time where I have not produced a single thing. Sometimes those are discouraging times- I don't feel the proverbial warmth of the sun in my work- I feel brittle, cold and dried up like last years leaf. But I am old enough and have seen enough of those "winters" to know that spring comes. Every time. And with it comes the fruit of the dormancy and rest that are sometimes necessary to become productive again. With each new "spring", I find that I am responding to color a little differently, or working my brush with added confidence, or have "unearthed" a new insight that I didn't know I had until it appeared on my canvas.
Sometimes winters are longer than others. But as with the actual seasons, we don't get to mandate when the the leaves will fall, or the snow will start or the buds will pop. Patience wins here. And we can be assured that everything will eventually cycle back to growth.