Winter Given Voice

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I keep the heavy curtains to the sunroom closed in winter. Shutting out the cold air that pushes its way through ancient windows. My houseplants are happy there. Not freezing, sunlit, and unexposed to dry indoor air. When the sun shines that room transforms in to a greenhouse. Capturing the heat and trapping it there.

I returned from a trip up North with renewed energy. My friends had gotten married and the rest of my friends worked their tails off making the vision come true. We’ve thrown lots of events together and each time we do I am honored to call so many hard working, talented folks my friends. Some of us were photographers, some of us were musicians, some of us were sound engineers. Some of us DJed, and some shoveled lots of snow. Some of us built campfires and some of us decorated. We moved furniture, organized, made drinks, did dishes, cleaned and danced. It was amazing.

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I came home and immediately started tearing down drop ceilings (because that is what I do best when I’m happy. I demo). My legs are sore from stepping up onto and down off of a stool some 200 times. I am embarrassed by how sore my legs are. I am itching to get digging in the soil again. I limped around the dining room, unsure what to do next. Orders have slowed down, the ground is still covered in snow, and there is no more space left in the dining room for giant bags of drop ceiling which are waiting patiently until they can be brought to the transfer station. I filled up jars of water to give the plants a drink and when I went into the sunroom it was a greenhouse kind of a day.

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Weeks like this I feel untethered. For so long you focus on one project or another, and then they’re done and you’re not quite sure what to do with yourself. You question whether or not you ever really know what you’re doing with yourself. You wonder (at least I do) what in fact it is you are doing with your life and why. And then you water a plant. And the moment the soil gets wet, the warmth in the room allows it to release the scent of spring, and life, and living, and growth. And then you remember that this doubt speaking inside you is only winter given voice.

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