13 March 2013
the turning time
I don't know that I could ever live in a state without seasons.
Yes, there are days when I go out my door and scrunch up my face against the 15 degree snow filled sky or curse the times when the temperature gauge hits triple digits but the turning times, the moments in between two seasons when one is trying to push the other out - those are my favorites.
There is a struggle for life, for position. The compressed timeline when the world hasn't decided yet which way it wants to be.
Spring is the most incredible to watch, there is a shudder to every moment while the warmer weather quietly nudges it's way in, trying to sneak behind the snow without winter noticing.
Art is much the same way, isn't it? The quiet moments are when the biggest things happen, a dramatic shift on an axis that we can barely keep our hands around. It's often nothing dramatic, just a single moment in the studio when you reach for one thing instead of what you were aiming for. And in the end, a breath rushes out of you when you realize you've found something new.
Always changing. Always evolving.
A constant spin around the turning time.