{With attention drawn elsewhere, victory was all too attainable.}
Awoken this morning to the repeated bleating of my alarm clock and Misha scratching at bedroom window desiring to be fed, I seem in full grip of winter hibernation. I am rugged up in hand-knits, I am lolling near to heaters and I am enjoying occasional serves of buttery toast. I am in the familiar embrace of all things winter as I note the summertime fancies of my friends far away. I am enjoying the aroma of Louise’s hot chocolate indulgence in the evening, watching Olive knead the woollen-covered hot water bottle as though it were another cat (it is pale pink like the silken pads of her paws and the tip of her nose), reading whilst wrapped with rug about shoulder, and cutting out new collage pieces. The days may be shorter but the long nights more than make up for that. They stretch pleasingly before me, and second only to its predecessor, winter is a beloved season of mine.
To work I return, I have my scissors at the ready and a slew of collected imagery to slowly cut away from page. This is a part of the process I greatly enjoy for it affords me time to think and for my thoughts to run almost out of view if I don’t keep up pace.
{Underfoot.}
{Egyptian homage.}
{When not working on floor, this is where I tinker.}
{In the light my Omar's eyes are blue.}
+ By post today arrived a bounty of hand knits from the ever lovely and talented Kylie whom I have known since art school days. Tomorrow, or thereabouts, I shall show you what delights she posted to Louise, my Mum and me.
+ mlazenby's ffffound!
