I'm losing track of which day it is. It happens in retirement or so I've heard from the old timers. I'm not worried about losing track too badly because I have Kathleen who is working Monday through Friday every week. Kinda keeps me on track, if you know what I mean. Any way this is coming off as very spacey which is not my intention. Just my unfortunate effect.
Winter...I never get over it or in any way master the season. The climate brings me to my knees and the psychology of living with people who are confined for months would inspire me to art if I wasn't so depressed and just downright emotionally cold. But that's the climate here in the Mid-Atlantic. It's given to extremes. No wonder the local people are stoic and act like soldiers.
I've never been a soldier. On my mother's side of our family, my grandfather died in WWII and has been the last in a long line of soldiers dating back from the American Revolution. So I guess I've got soldiering in my genes but not in my heart.
So when Spring arrives I write and when the light is good, I paint abstract art. I hope to express myself well, humourously, and to a few of your likings.
But in the meanwhile I wait for March. March is the beginning of my new creative year. And It can't get here soon enough!!!
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