blue sky, blue joy

Some days simply are better.

I know we’re supposed to love every moment and there is only the now and la la la, but I want to go on record saying some days just are too rich, too sumptuous, too good for words or photos and being such, they are better than those days when everything feels pinchy, or grinchy or wrong despite all efforts to the contrary.

The challenge, of course, is that there is no telling when or how such days roll in.

Take this morning– well, I guess we should start with last night, or perhaps, better still, yesterday– hmm, where does it begin?

For me, it begins with the light. There has been so much full on sunshine and today when I woke up, if it hadn’t been for the cold– I would’ve thought it was a summer day. It was that sunny and bright.

So I walked around the apartment taking photos while the dogs looked on with their typical bemused indulgence at my ridiculous behavior.

Would you like to see my nascent studio space?

Perhaps this is the source of all the joy?

Despite the fact that it is still waiting on my easel, table and another hutch from Soliden, I have been in here in the evenings messing about and yes, I think creative play + sun = joy.

In my world, at least.

As I have been goofing about with my “fairy meadow angels,” I have been listening to books on tape– first David Sedaris, and now– Watership Down– which, shhh, don’t tell me how it ends.

I know you all read it as kids– but I never did. I knew something bad would happen to the rabbits and I couldn’t bear it. Now, however, I am progressing with it slowly and it is really fun to have a long, well-written story being read to you (by the author himself, no less) while a fire snaps and crackles in the wood stove and you curse yourself for (yet again) gluing your fingers together and the dogs stretch and sigh on the floor while glitter floats down, ever so slowly, ever so quietly onto their golden fur– not to be seen again until the next day when it catches you by surprise– nearly imperceptible glints about their ears in the morning light.

Bisous, E