Today we're being hit with another winter storm. The north wind is rattling the windchimes and spinning the anemometers in wild orbits. New snow is whitewashing the ground, covering the gray remnants of the last few snowfalls.
It has been a long winter. But I'm not complaining; in fact I thrive on the austerity of winter as a foundation for my creative life. Winter scrapes the palette clean before springtime unscrews the caps from the tubes of colors and squeezes out the reds and yellows and greens.