Hello, winter.

Y’all. Last week I spent 3 days in Canada and saw ACTUAL DEEP SNOW and made a snowman and slid down hills and broke several nail snowshoeing and it was everything I’d built up in my mind since I was little, which is lovely because so often the things we’ve anticipated forever are not as wonderful as we’d expected. I often didn’t have enough energy in the daylight hours (THANKS, CHRONIC ILLNESS AND EXHAUSTION) so I’d go walking alone at midnight in the snowy woods, which is probably a recipe for attracting serial killers but it was totally worth it. (In my defense, I did carry a cheese knife with me everywhere which is a questionable weapon but I think it could scare attackers off because it’s so unhinged to pull out a cheese knife and wave it around threateningly that I think even serial killers would be like, “Oh shit. Is that a cheese knife? Maybe this one isn’t worth it.” Also, it had one of those graters built into the knife so it’s basically two weapons in one, but not at all.)

Anyway, this week’s drawing is a nod to those deep and quiet and lovely woods…protective, threatening, magical… to the moments when nothing existed in the world except the trees around me and the snow under my feet and the air so bright and cold it never let me forget where I was…when I could hear my own thoughts…when I could listen to the world spin and feel part of it, if only for a few minutes.

I don’t have any words for this drawing. It’s just quiet. Sometimes quiet is powerfully loud. I hope you all get to experience it once.

I hope I get to experience it again.

Love,

me