The Wind in the Trees

The East Wind raged
last night.
Angry that the leaves still clung to the trees.
I watched the gusts
whip the upraised branches,
almost to the ground they emerged from,
it's impatience evident.

Today there is no brown earth beneath them,
only shades of gold.
The Alders stand,
branches like bare bones
swaying in the bitter breeze.
Soon the snows will ride in on the
cold East Wind,
bringing Winter down from the mountain.

And under Death's mantle
the remnants of summer will decay,
biding it's time,
to emerge once more as verdant tips on white branches,
swaying in the warm breath
of some tomorrow.

paint joy over the pain

finally painted this morning. it's been a couple years since i did. maybe when i was in wyoming for that spring...keep thinking, "i need to set this space up, and then i can paint." or "after i do this other crap i need to do, i can paint."

reality is i just have trouble starting. i don't know if it's fear of failure, fear of success, or just plain having trouble manifesting my life outside my head. most likely it's all that and more.

but this morning i'm feeling all the sadness descend, and it was the most readily available creative outlet available, so i dove in. amidst the mess of the living room that i'm supposed to clean, but rarely happens, i pulled out the starter set my fiance so thoughtfully bought for me and used the minimal palette to create an underpainting for what will be my first painting in years, and will hopefully open up the blocked creative juices that have my mind whirling, but my hand raised frozen in uncertainty of where to start...

paint is a great laxative. do not take internally.